There is a long pause. Kaworu isn’t sure what to do with himself, because Conan is looking at him warmly and while it is certainly a glance that Kaworu is well trained in performing, it is not something that he finds too often is so steadfastly returned by Lilim— their hearts are tentative and the walls build around their souls dense as steel.
Closing his eyes, he reminds himself that this is nothing out of the ordinary— and even if it was, he really has no reason to be cold towards the boy.
Deep breaths, Kaworu. You are fine. You have dealt with far worse problems than a language barrier, you are perfectly fine. Standing up, he smiles at Conan— that same smile he has all but trained himself to do, eyes squinted, eyebrows lifted, lips curved just so.
He nods his head and gestures his arm in a sweeping motion for the boy to lead the way.
YEAAAH. YEAAAH!! No rejection from this guy. Neato. Conan’s cheeks started heating up more and his stomach was filling up with butterflies. Kaworu was such a nice guy.
Conan gently took Kaworu’s hand and held it as he lead the way to his own home. Bless you, pope-san. Thank you for taking this kid home.
