Lloyd loved listening to you talk, even when you spoke so fast you stumbled and stuttered on your words. He loved listening to your ramblings, about things he either didn't understand or didn't care for. In his eyes, all that mattered was that you looked so happy talking about them. He especially loved the way your face absolutely lit up when you realized he was, indeed, still listening.

Sometimes, you'd begin speaking to fill a void of awkward and tense and anxious silence, that was really the only time it bothered him slightly. Because he knew you were speaking to cover your own nervous energy, and oftentimes that only made you more anxious.

Of course, Lloyd could always remedy this by gently taking your hand in his and rubbing his thumb over the back of it, a silent reminder that he was there, that he was with you.

But today, you were rambling. He couldn't understand what you were saying because you were talking so quickly your words ran together, and he could tell you noticed that he couldn't understand you, because you somehow managed to speak faster.

So he carefully grabbed your hand, fingers intertwined with yours, and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. Upon seeing that this didn't help, he leaned in and pressed a quick, gentle kiss to your lips, whispering with an amused and gentle voice, "breath, dear, I can't understand you when you speak so fast."