@halfrest
“so,” it’d been the only word spoken after a very long silence - if silence was not truly silence, and was instead the distant scream of cicadas and the soft flutter of a moth swarm still unattached to any particular light; the buzz of the lights on the porch they stood on, creak of the wood beneath their feet, beneath ducky’s worn vans, duct tape mending split rubber. he’d let the silence go on for too long, again, though his brain’d still been caught in some sort of fog, body solid in front of airi but still somewhere else entirely. “i - uh, think they... like me. probably.” dry to the point where even he’s not sure if he’s joking or not, ducky clears his throat and takes a step back farther from airi as if the distance would allow him to breathe properly - to breathe right, for once, through this entire ordeal. “d’you think they’ll, fucking... invite me back? for dinner? should bring fucking... flowers, next time.”
