[Be that as it may, Lelouch still attempts to tug that blanket over the two of them as best he can—his legs are really long and really far away, okay—scooting upward as he does. In spite of the intuitive way to stagger their height difference, he's inclined to press his face into those golden tufts instead, arm slung about his broad shoulders, the other's face tucked against his collarbone. Gino's hair smells of his shampoo, and even more faintly of what he assumes smoke from earlier. It's only moderately jarring, however, because the more he quietly breathes it in, the less he smells it and the more relaxed he gets.]
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