[The rush of heat that coils low in Miyano's stomach, then rises up through his chest, making his heart go staccato-quick, knotting in his throat and making it hard to breathe -- it isn't unfamiliar, exactly. He's felt it before, a couple times, towards other acolytes or regular worshippers. He's always been taught that it was something he should ignore, some sort of sin that he had to transcend, somehow. It wasn't befitting of someone promised to the temple and the gods.
But it's never been this intense before. It's never made his whole body go hot and shivery and weak. It's never made his head spin so hard that he instinctively grabs onto Bruce's cloak to steady himself, heart racing so loud he's sure the man can hear it.]
Oh. Okay. [It comes out hoarse, a whisper. Miya isn't sure if it's agreement or permission or -- something like that. Or if it's just the only thing he can verbalize just then.]
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But it's never been this intense before. It's never made his whole body go hot and shivery and weak. It's never made his head spin so hard that he instinctively grabs onto Bruce's cloak to steady himself, heart racing so loud he's sure the man can hear it.]
Oh. Okay. [It comes out hoarse, a whisper. Miya isn't sure if it's agreement or permission or -- something like that. Or if it's just the only thing he can verbalize just then.]