[ He almost feels guilty for saying so much, knowing how shy they can be and how very unaccustomed to this they are. Almost, but not quite. He meant every word. Cairngorm deserves to hear it all.
Lupin lets them pull him to his feet (not that he has much of a choice in the matter), keeping his fingers wrapped around theirs. No matter how this turned out, he wasn't going to regret any of it, but this part, the part after he tells them, is the one he could predict least of all. As far as he's concerned, there was a non-zero chance of them yelling at him and straight-up running away. But they don't; they're confused and sputtering, but they're not letting go, either. That spurs him on, just a little. He stays close to them when he stands. ]
How could I not be? You're beautiful, strong, clever... You can try to hide it all you like, but you've got a good heart, too. [ the words come out naturally - he's got no plans, now, just whatever's in his heart, and as he speaks them, he feels them burning stronger. Yes - how could he not be? Who else would defy him fearlessly, spit fire at him, yet still take his arm and carefully step around his feet when he wanted to show them how to dance? The same beautiful, delicate features that he'd gently held and mended with his own hands belonged to a warrior that could topple giants and shatter glaciers. Only the most spectacular jewels could catch the eye of the gentleman thief. There's no one else like Cairngorm.
he sighs, just slightly, not from exasperation or nerves, but from simple heartache. The more he says, the heavier it feels. He wants nothing more than to hold them and tell them every little good point they have until they're more of a ruby than a quartz and have no chance of forgetting any of it. But he's a gentleman. ]
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Lupin lets them pull him to his feet (not that he has much of a choice in the matter), keeping his fingers wrapped around theirs. No matter how this turned out, he wasn't going to regret any of it, but this part, the part after he tells them, is the one he could predict least of all. As far as he's concerned, there was a non-zero chance of them yelling at him and straight-up running away. But they don't; they're confused and sputtering, but they're not letting go, either. That spurs him on, just a little. He stays close to them when he stands. ]
How could I not be? You're beautiful, strong, clever... You can try to hide it all you like, but you've got a good heart, too. [ the words come out naturally - he's got no plans, now, just whatever's in his heart, and as he speaks them, he feels them burning stronger. Yes - how could he not be? Who else would defy him fearlessly, spit fire at him, yet still take his arm and carefully step around his feet when he wanted to show them how to dance? The same beautiful, delicate features that he'd gently held and mended with his own hands belonged to a warrior that could topple giants and shatter glaciers. Only the most spectacular jewels could catch the eye of the gentleman thief. There's no one else like Cairngorm.
he sighs, just slightly, not from exasperation or nerves, but from simple heartache. The more he says, the heavier it feels. He wants nothing more than to hold them and tell them every little good point they have until they're more of a ruby than a quartz and have no chance of forgetting any of it. But he's a gentleman. ]
You have no idea how wonderful you are.