[Akechi doesn't know what that glare is supposed to mean, hence, the question. If he was going to be scolded for sounding like he was mocking either Tifa or Ren himself, perhaps, though he'd expect disappointment rather than anger. Anger is a good look on him, he thinks, even if it's not an emotion he usually associates with the other.
He opens his mouth to ask once again, or perhaps taunt him, "Cat got your tongue, Ren?" but before he can form any words there's a hand on his hair and lips crashing against his own in an ungentle kiss. For a moment, he's frozen in place from the sheer shock of it, every muscle snapping into a rigid uncertainty as even his own thoughts scramble into an incoherent mess.
Then, as if something chaining him back had snapped all at once, Akechi surges forward with a low growl, tilting his head to deepen the kiss in something almost animalistic in its unpracticed fierceness.]
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He opens his mouth to ask once again, or perhaps taunt him, "Cat got your tongue, Ren?" but before he can form any words there's a hand on his hair and lips crashing against his own in an ungentle kiss. For a moment, he's frozen in place from the sheer shock of it, every muscle snapping into a rigid uncertainty as even his own thoughts scramble into an incoherent mess.
Then, as if something chaining him back had snapped all at once, Akechi surges forward with a low growl, tilting his head to deepen the kiss in something almost animalistic in its unpracticed fierceness.]