Oh. Food and wine- a picnic. That's what the basket is for. Viktor's expression softens, but then colours with a tinge of panic as Xander goes on.
Intimate? Paint on the body? Oh dear. Viktor's brain stops working for a moment, and he feels suddenly very nervous. There's sort of a stunned silence as he continues to look up at Xander, before realizing he's being very rude.
"I-- ah, I'm sorry. A picnic sounds lovely. I... I may decide on the paint later on, if that would be alright," he stammers, blushing. "I didn't-- I haven't prepared for... Ah..." He looks down at his dirty hands. He's trying to say he hasn't had time to get ready for a date, if this is a date, so he doesn't look his best, and is this a date? But the words just get all tangled up, and he doesn't have the nerve to ask that question anyway.
"Sorry. Yes." He puts down his screwdriver and wipes his hands of grease.
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Intimate? Paint on the body? Oh dear. Viktor's brain stops working for a moment, and he feels suddenly very nervous. There's sort of a stunned silence as he continues to look up at Xander, before realizing he's being very rude.
"I-- ah, I'm sorry. A picnic sounds lovely. I... I may decide on the paint later on, if that would be alright," he stammers, blushing. "I didn't-- I haven't prepared for... Ah..." He looks down at his dirty hands. He's trying to say he hasn't had time to get ready for a date, if this is a date, so he doesn't look his best, and is this a date? But the words just get all tangled up, and he doesn't have the nerve to ask that question anyway.
"Sorry. Yes." He puts down his screwdriver and wipes his hands of grease.