Thanks. I mean, I swear it is, but I'm realising it's kind of like riding a bike.
[ Barnes had, once upon a time, been a ladies' man. The dashing flirtatious skirt-chaser of a sergeant, with a friendly wink and a smile for pretty much anyone. That particular version of him is long-gone, buried and dead — but sometimes echoes of it stir back up and he can almost remember what it was like, like some ancient muscle-memory in his fingertips. A moment too late, though, he realises what that sounded like. ]
Not that... you're... the bike.
[ He winces, his nose scrunching, and he leans his face against Daisy's shoulder instead. ]
no subject
[ Barnes had, once upon a time, been a ladies' man. The dashing flirtatious skirt-chaser of a sergeant, with a friendly wink and a smile for pretty much anyone. That particular version of him is long-gone, buried and dead — but sometimes echoes of it stir back up and he can almost remember what it was like, like some ancient muscle-memory in his fingertips. A moment too late, though, he realises what that sounded like. ]
Not that... you're... the bike.
[ He winces, his nose scrunching, and he leans his face against Daisy's shoulder instead. ]
Yeah. See. Foot in mouth.