He was already sorry that he'd pushed him before Keigo hit the couch, but Ichigo didn't apologize or make any effort to take the motion back, or even prevent Keigo's legs from exiting his lap. He glanced down at his empty lap briefly, before looking up at Keigo again. He scratched idly at one still-pink cheek with a finger, then flopped his arm against the back of the couch and tried to look unfazed, pushing his shoulders back into the material as if he could recede into it.

"Nn... N-not exactly." Although he no longer looked quite as flustered, the blush and uncertainty still lingered, and Ichigo pressed his lips together and actually paused to think about what he said before he said it. "You're just more... Your features are s-softer. And beauty is about being delicate and... refined?"

Just because he thought about what he meant to say, didn't make what he said any better.