As soon as she visibly agrees to the request, trading off his clothes for the other two towels is easy enough; Shizuo seems pleased enough with the confirmation that his suit will be back to him by tomorrow. (It'd really be no good to lose track of them--sure, he's got a full wardrobe of identical sets, but it's the principle of the thing...)
But then Namie's suddenly at his side, pulling his arm over one of her shoulders, and Shizuo very nearly freezes up on the spot; this isn't helped when she hooks her other arm around him too, all very warm and--once again--surely too close to be safe. He hadn't realized just how short she is in comparison to him, either...his head jerks, and he looks away across the room. There's that heat in his face and chest again--both such a far cry from the usual burn of his temper that it's almost as alarming as it is mystifying. Ah, what the hell's the matter with him? It's not like he's never had anyone help him across a room like this before. He's done this exact same thing with Shinra more times than he can count, so why...?
"If I fall now you might as well just leave me on the floor." It's a grumble that might be directed more to himself than it is to Namie. But he moves forward anyway, slowly, and the process is easier with the support at his side--even if he's apparently having very mixed feelings about said support. He rests his arm across her shoulders very gingerly, far too anxious to consider resting much weight there, but when the dizzy bursts come he can't help leaning into her a little anyhow, and it manages to work out all the way to the couch.
"...You make it a habit of helping strangers like this?" He's surprised that the question even makes it out of him, but there it is, after a stretch of silence.
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But then Namie's suddenly at his side, pulling his arm over one of her shoulders, and Shizuo very nearly freezes up on the spot; this isn't helped when she hooks her other arm around him too, all very warm and--once again--surely too close to be safe. He hadn't realized just how short she is in comparison to him, either...his head jerks, and he looks away across the room. There's that heat in his face and chest again--both such a far cry from the usual burn of his temper that it's almost as alarming as it is mystifying. Ah, what the hell's the matter with him? It's not like he's never had anyone help him across a room like this before. He's done this exact same thing with Shinra more times than he can count, so why...?
"If I fall now you might as well just leave me on the floor." It's a grumble that might be directed more to himself than it is to Namie. But he moves forward anyway, slowly, and the process is easier with the support at his side--even if he's apparently having very mixed feelings about said support. He rests his arm across her shoulders very gingerly, far too anxious to consider resting much weight there, but when the dizzy bursts come he can't help leaning into her a little anyhow, and it manages to work out all the way to the couch.
"...You make it a habit of helping strangers like this?" He's surprised that the question even makes it out of him, but there it is, after a stretch of silence.