[ julienned. he's watched wenzhou do that before - it's not hard, like creating long matchsticks. fei du makes a noise, an affirmative, and turns his wrist deftly to start to cut the vegetables. it's easy, methodic work, and his cuts are true and precise.
his gaze falls on the wine glass for a moment, brows jumping up in surprise, before he looks up to wenzhou... and then back to the glass, quirking a smile. ]
While my hands are occupied? [ there's a playfulness to it, as if he's lamenting, while he cuts the veggies. ] That's a different kind of torture.
no subject
his gaze falls on the wine glass for a moment, brows jumping up in surprise, before he looks up to wenzhou... and then back to the glass, quirking a smile. ]
While my hands are occupied? [ there's a playfulness to it, as if he's lamenting, while he cuts the veggies. ] That's a different kind of torture.
[ no heat to that at all; it's a joke. ]