Tidus is caught in the act -- a hard to miss act. But there's no scolding, no terrified demand, so he gives up the pretence of wanting to do anything but look at his friend. And to see that expression, so delightful, so warm. It creeps a goofy smile up on his own lips, and while he could answer, he doesn't.

He rests an elbow on his legs instead, leaning forward. Propping his head, fingers a line along the side of his jaw, his cheek.

"That's a nice face," he comments, a praise and compliment in a tease. Features scrunching together as he brightens that smile, the tickle of a chuckle coming up his throat. "Want another song?"