[ Venti fumbles a few times, the leather loose on his frame instead of snaring tight. Fingers were skilled at a lyre, but in his sleepy daze – not so much at being a tailor. He stops when Zhongli offers and he thinks for a second. ]
Oh! Sure, can you spot me? Am I close?
[ His finger tries to thread towards one of the little openings, missing it every time. Venti leans forward into the table, exposing his back further. ]
no subject
Oh! Sure, can you spot me? Am I close?
[ His finger tries to thread towards one of the little openings, missing it every time. Venti leans forward into the table, exposing his back further. ]
If not, forget it, I'll keep it off.