He blushed at the compliment, turning away. “You… you always say that. But I’m rather plain.” He sighed and looked away, eyes downcast. “Give back my glasses, Francis. Please. I would prefer to look better.”
A hand was brought up to rub his cheek, shyness apparent.
“I always say it because it is true.” He smiled and leaned back. “I will not give you your glasses. You will either have to at least try contact lenses or…forcibly take your glasses from me.” Francis smiled at him.
“….try contacts? Truly?” He sighed, giving Francis an annoyed look. “I have a pair that were given to me…but I have no way of putting them in. I…Touching my eyeball…is not something I feel comfortable doing.” The contacts were a gift recently given in one of Vash’s attempts to get Roderich to to wear his glasses less.
Francis nodded. “It’s not hard, truly. I was able to get my to boys to do it, but Mathieu and Alfred are stubborn creatures and now only wear their contacts to look presentable at a party or when meeting someone important. They wear their glasses only to be comfortable. Contacts are not as scary as you think.”
“…then…perhaps with your assistance? I…I am unable to do it myself.” He was red faced as he confessed this, his eyes turning up to look through his lashes at the French man. “I…I fear I will poke my eye or some other similar tragedy.”