Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: The Poppy War Series - R. F. Kuang
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Relationships: Fang Runin & Altan Trengsin, Chaghan Suren/Altan Trengsin, Fang Runin/Yin Nezha
Characters: Altan Trengsin, Fang Runin, Hanelai (The Poppy War), Jiang Ziya (The Poppy War), Yin Nezha, Chaghan Suren
Additional Tags: POV Altan Tengsin, Astral Projection, Drug Abuse, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Compliant, Fang Runin and Altan Trengsin are Cousins, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Sexy and unbetad, no beta we die like altan trengsin, I wrote this instead of studying for my civics exam, These two are so fucking complex I need to put them in a jar and shake it
Summary:
Altan had indulged in the fantasies of revenge almost as much as he did in opium. He dreamt about what the screams would sound like. How good the terror would taste.
He never thought he would get to experience it. But he did. With his limbs blown off, and sinking in the Omonod Bay, with the Phoenix finally silent in his mind, Altan heard the screams. The screams of every man, woman and child in Mugen. He saw the smoke and the raining hellfire through the refraction of the water.
Altan being a good cook!! I just love how kinda random it is. Me and my friend were trying to come up with hobbies for him besides gloom and doom and we landed on that.
Just imagine chaghan and qara describing naimad food to him and altan trying to recreate it.
Maybe this is in a modern au/happy no war au where they have access to good ingredients LOL
The weather is unpredictable, and so is Kuroo Tetsuro.
But you think you're good at matching his energy.
w.c: 2.6k || Fluff || Gender-neutral reader || Awkward Teenage love
It's autumn, and winter is approaching.
You're very much aware of that, yet, you can't help but think that it's too cold. Snow can be felt without there being any, and you worry that if you—for whatever reason—forget how to breath through your mouth, you'd perish on the spot with a nose full of snot. Had you known the weather would change this drastically, you would have decked yourself out in a thicker coat, scarf, and maybe even grab a pair of gloves.
Alas, the weather remains one of the most unpredictable wonders of life, and you curse this fact throughout your whole walk towards the school gate. Like the weather, being held back after class was not something you anticipated. It was sunny the moment the bell rang, but responsibilities kept you chained to the campus. The thought pisses you off, because you could've been tucked away at home and avoided being trapped in this harsh wind that bit at your cheeks until they turned numb.
"Woah. Now that's a new look."
You jump, snapping your head around to assess the danger.
Conclusion? Super dangerous. Level 10 threat. AKA, The Crush: Kuroo Tetsuro.
"Thanks. I worked hard for it," You retort flatly, fixing your hair while you attempt to conceal how mortified you felt towards him seeing you like this.
"I can tell. It's...a lot." He snorts, hand reaching up to ruffle your hair. A whine escapes you before he pushes the tousled strands away from your face—the surface of his hands are rough from years of volleyball, yet still weirdly gentle. Too gentle for you to handle. "Heading home?"
You nod, leaning away while taking note of his attire, "Mhm. Does the volleyball team have practice today?"
"Yup," he pops his 'p', shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. You had not expected to see him, but it makes sense now.
"Isn't it cold?" You examine his warm-up jacket with a scrunched nose. Never could you imagine wearing only that type of outwear in this weather.
He chuckles, stepping closer while pinching the edge of his sleeve to show off the material. "It's warmer than it looks."
Curiosity takes over, and without thinking, you grab his sleeve yourself, "Huh, it is thicker than it lo—"
You stop your own words when you notice him visibly flinch.
You're used to Kuroo messing around with you—ruining your hair or slinging an arm over your shoulders—so you had assumed that he was welcoming to physical contact. Obviously not, based on his reaction, and admittedly, it stung a little.
"Oh. Sorry."
Before you could back up, his fingers wrap around your wrist in a flash, which startles even him.
"No! I mean—Uh. I'm sorry," he murmurs an apology, and you think if he were a cat, his ears would be pointed downward. The sting immediately goes away.
"For what?" You raised a brow, biting your cheeks to prevent an incredulous laugh from spilling at the mental image. "I touched you first without asking. It's my bad."
He opens his mouth, closes it, and then glances away entirely while his arms move to cross over one another. His cheeks are red, and you wonder if he's lying about being cold.
"Nah, It's fine. I don't mind it." He lifts his hand slightly in a dismissive gesture, his face returning to his typical relaxed grin. "Anyway, shouldn't you be more worried about yourself being cold instead of me?"
He's clearly trying to change the subject, but you decide to bite the bait. "Who says I was worried?"
"Ouch. What a way to hurt a guy's feelings." He pouts, one arm still crossed over his chest while the other raises to press his knuckles against his chin. You both share a laugh before the conversation falls into a smooth rhythm.
It's pleasant.
Talking to Kuroo is always pleasant...is what you'd like to think if you were able to resist your teeth from chattering. Your words come out shaky, and Kuroo cocks a brow at the sound of it. You don't dwell on it, until a zipppppp interrupts your complaints about your math teacher, snapping you out of your mild irritation to watch Kuroo slide his jacket off his shoulder.
"Uh, what are you—?" You don't get the chance to finish your question before you see a flash of red and feel another layer of warmth enveloping you. It takes you off guard, and you think you're gawking at him, because his sly grin grows even wider as he holds the collar together with one hand.
"You're welcome" He puffs his chest, but the only thing your eyes are trained on is his thin t-shirt. Attempting to push his hand off the collar, you narrow your eyes. "Thanks, but I'm fine. This is your jacket."
"Yeah. But I don't really need it." He shrugs. His face is straight—unreadable—but there's a soft flush that forms as his gaze darts between your face and the jacket wrapped around you. "You do though."
"Really?" It's your turn to smirk at him. "Your face looks a little red for someone who doesn't apparently need it."
Your observation causes Kuroo's grip on the jacket to loosen, his eyes to widening. In one second, he's silent, but then the next, he jerks back as his thoughts come tumbling out. "I promise I don't! I'm cool. Totally cool! Er, cool as in like, I'm doing fine, you know?"
You really wanted to laugh, but let him continue. "Plus I'll be indoors, running around...all of that. So, uh, yeah. I'm cool. I'm fine."
"Uh huh." Your smile nearly splits your cheeks as you find enjoyment in watching him overexplain himself.
Kuroo is simultaneously easy and difficult to be around.
He's got an annoying but admirable confidence that both provokes others and makes him a dependable person. When he speaks, there's no indecisiveness in his delivery, yet every word is carefully considered and tailored to the listener. Even during the rare times where he gets like this, he doesn't back down, facing you earnestly with that cheeky glimmer in his eyes that you've become fond of.
The one that appears when you ask him for help on an assignment, wish him luck on an upcoming practice match, or when he helps himself to the empty spot next to you at lunch like he belongs there.
He's easy to hang out with, that's why you like him.
But ironically, it's that same crush that makes it hard to relax around him.
"For the record, I think you are cool. The other kind."
His gaze finally becomes steady on you. "...What?"
"You're a really cool guy. I hope you know that." You look at him directly, shrugging. You know your feelings are probably one sided—you're pretty certain of that.
But regardless, you feel grateful to have met a friend like him, and you wanted him to hear it. "I'm glad we're friends."
For what felt like the nth time in the past 10 minutes, Kuroo's eyes go wide again like you've become deadly ill from the cold. "...What's up with the sudden sentimentality?"
You click your tongue, but even you could tell that it lacked a lot of bite. "I can't be nice anymore?"
"You're never nice." He sticks his tongue out at you mockingly.
When you scowl at him harshly, he's quick to raise his hands in surrender with a wild grin, "Kidding! I'm kidding!"
It leaves as quick and it appears, replaced with a smile one would wear when reuniting with an old close friend. "Seriously though, where's this coming from?"
"I was just thinking, that's all."
Your response doesn't quite satisfy him, but he doesn't press either.
"I'm glad we're...friends too."
"Why'd you hesitate you jerk?" You narrow your eyes in faux offense—playfully kicking his shin—to which he hides his hands behind his back like a kid who's been caught causing mischief.
"I don't know what you're talking about!"
His tone is nothing short of childish—this whole conversation was, in fact—but you cackle and play along nonetheless. "Are we not friends?!"
"We are!"
"Liar!"
"I mean it! You're my bestttt friend," he pleads for you to believe him, his arm pulling you closer into his side.
"You wouldn't have hesitated if I was!" You peek your elbow from under his volleyball jacket to nudge his chest, the smile on your facing contrasting the frown that you desperately kept trying to maintain.
"Come onnn! I only hesitated to leave room for other possibilities too!" He argues, tilting his face to look at you directly, as if it'll allow you to see how genuine he is.
"What other possibilities?"
Your question makes him pause, mouth gaping like he hadn't meant to say what he did. That alone was enough to capture all of your attention.
Because Kuroo is always careful with what he says.
"Nevermind. Trust me when I say you're my best friend, okay? Pretty please?" He returns to normal, but the damage is done.
"Why should I trust you when you're not even telling the truth!" You close your fist, angling it like there's a microphone in your hand before holding it up to his lips. "Spill, Mister Kuroo! What did you mean by 'other possibilities'?"
This gets him to back away first, now wearing a nervous smile and shifting on his feet. "...I was just, you know."
Your face drops into a deadpan, "I don't know. That's why I'm asking."
You can tell he almost rolls his eyes at your sarcasm, but answers you anyway. "Saying I'm glad that we're friends...sounds like I'm happy with being friends."
"...Well, duh." You drop your microphone in disappointment, furrowing your eyebrows—half with confusion, half with amusement. "So you're admitting that you're not happy with our friendship?"
"I'm happy but..." He trails off, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head as he debates whether or not to finish his thought.
"...I'm a selfish guy. At least, when it comes to you. Being only friends just...doesn't really satisfy me."
The world goes quiet in your ears as you process what he just said. The type of quiet that comes with a searing heat that overwhelms all your other senses. You don't know what exactly you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't that.
Kuroo is an easy friend to be around, but is also difficult.
Because he pulls too much tricks like this. Ones that you fill you with so much hope it hurts.
The silence drags on a little too long, you think, because Kuroo nervously grins, eyes lids lowering into a softer look as he bumps his fist against your shoulder. "Just kidding!"
...Just kidding.
Yeah, it would be easy to say its a joke and pretend this never happened. After all, you were so accepting of remaining just friends mere minutes ago. If he is really joking, then pressing this topic will just be humiliating for you.
But if Kuroo was going to mess with your heart like this, then surely you're allowed to do the same?
"I'll let you go now. You should probably head home before it gets too cold for poor lil old you—"
"What were you thinking?" You interject calmly, gripping his jacket tighter around you. "If not 'just friends', what else were you considering?"
If you weren't so focused on getting an answer, you would've loved to tease him for how bugged out his eyes were at your candid interrogation. There was a sense of gratification in seeing how you were able to render Kuroo Tetsuro—the guy who dishes out comebacks like he's a Michelin star chef—utterly speechless.
He covers the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand, contemplating, which only seems to burn his face a bright shade of red. Under his breath, you barely hear him mumble his idea. "...Dating...wouldn't be so bad."
You resist the urge to cheer.
"But! To me, you're way more important," he continues swiftly, concern painting his face. "So, no pressure yeah? I really was joking. Just being around you already makes me happy enough."
You feel all your previous confidence leave your body, and you even think that it might've been transferred to Kuroo in this instance.
"I...really like you. More than a friend," He rubs his neck with a bashful smile and furrowed eyebrows. "You make it hard not to, you know?"
Seeing him now, you feel frustrated with your past self for not noticing earlier. How could you not, when he looks at you like you're everything he's ever wanted?
"KUROO!" A voice boomed, startling you and the man in trouble. "BREAK ENDED 5 MINUTES AGO, GET YOUR ASS BACK TO THE COURTS!"
Peering behind Kuroo, you're met with Yaku's...less than pleased stare. Kuroo follows your gaze and grimaces as his friend's anger—which intensifies when Kuroo acknowledges his presence. "Yikes...looks like I'm in trouble with the little demon again."
He turns back around to you, smirking, but it's not quite the same as what you're used to. "Wish me luck okay? And get home safe."
"Hold on, can w-"
Get home safe?
You couldn't help the uncomfortable feeling bubbling in your chest at the innocent send-off.
He wanted you to go, but how could you without sharing the joy of having your feelings be reciprocated?
"WOAH! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU HAD A LOVER KUROO!"
Annoyance consumes you when you're cut off by a new friend joining intruding on the moment. You're about to continue what you meant to say...until you register what was said.
"HAH?! WHERE'D YOU GET THAT IDEA FROM?!" Kuroo whips around, shouting at who you assume is underclassman. It gives you a full view of his nape, which is completely red.
"Isn't that yours?" The kid saunters towards you two despite Yaku's protests, pointing between the jacket you're wearing as a cape and Kuroo.
"Mind your damn business, Lev. I lent it cause they were cold." Kuroo scolds his teammate, storming over to block him from getting any closer.
Although Kuroo offered an explanation, the kid only pressed further, moving on from Kuroo to you. "Hey! Are you Kuroo's lover?"
"Hi. Shouldn't you introduce yourself first before asking those types of questions?" You raise a brow at his brashness.
"Lev Haiba! First Year Student and Nekoma's Ace!" He responds like he's in military service, and you could almost visualize him saluting to you as he speaks.
His answer makes you deduce that he's either really arrogant, or really foolish. Or maybe both. Either way, the reaction it pulls out of Kuroo makes you cackle, and you can't help but want to add fuel to the fire.
"Nice to meet you, Lev."
"Stop bothering them. I already answered your damn question, so move along." He's annoyed, it's evident, but there was also a brief glimmer of giddiness in his eyes at Lev's assumption of your relationship.
He nods rapidly before probing once more, "So? Are you his lover?"
He's met again with Kuroo's intervention.
You let out a exasperated huff of endearment, totally captivated by this man.
"I am."
That's all you say. Two simple words. But they silence everyone there.
At least, for a few seconds.
"WOAH! You really are?! Why were you trying to keep it a secret? Don't you trust us?"
"That's—!" Kuroo is at a lost for words, looking at Yaku, Lev, and then you, especially at you, blinking like he's unsure if he even heard correctly.
"I should get going now." You decide to make your escape. Was it cruel? Maybe, but that expression on Kuroo's face was too good, and your heart was beating with so much excitement that your energy level feels like it could last you for days. "Good luck with the rest of practice. Text me when you're done, okay?"
With one final wave, you turn on your heels, heading towards the front gates to exit with a pep in your steps. But then, you stop for a moment, remembering one last thing that you needed to tell him.
"Oh, and thanks for the jacket, Tetsuro!"
When your back faces the school once again, you laugh even harder when you hear Yaku and Lev behind you—one screaming at Kuroo to get off the ground, while the other asks why his whole face is a bright red.
You have never seen Tetsuro's room in such a state, but you're not surprised that it's today: you don't know much about it but it must have been a hell of a day for him.
His usual alarm would ring out at 7:45 - which makes you complain because if he wasn't so adamant about sleeping as much as possible he wouldn't have to rush to school and you two could spend some time together before classes start - but today it was two hours earlier because the team had to catch a four-hour train ride to get to Sendai, where coach Ukai from Karasuno had been able to book a volleyball court for the whole day. The two teams had been wanting to play against each other again for a long time but no one could find a solution to the problem of the distance: neither of them could stay over for more than a day and neither of them was willing to go through a twelve-hour round trip in just twentyfour hours.
Then coach Ukai used his connections, which he has thanks to his grandfather and some classmates from high school, to find said volleyball court in Sendai. The total amount of hours for the trip decreased from twelve to eight, and coach Nekomata thought it was a brilliant compromise so he agreed to the younger's proposal.
You haven't heard much from Tetsuro for the whole day, but he's sent you messages from time to time to let you know he's still alive and breathing and that he ate and drank and that he missed you so much that Kenma was starting to have seizures because of how much Tetsuro had been rambling about you to him. He's so dramatic it should be illegal, and you think that it's pretty funny that people only see him as grounded and responsible without taking into account the fact that, to put it lightly, he's a fucking idiot.
Nobody except you and Kenma really gets that the two things aren't mutually exclusive. The duality of man.
After school, instead of going home, you passed by his house with the spare keys he gave you yesterday. His parents left today for a trip themselves and they'll be back late into the night, so no one would be there to feed Satan, his cat. It's not her real name, but it's the only one you will accept. She hates you, and the feeling is mutual. Still, you gave her her disgusting food, tried to avoid her angry little claws, and then decided to go up to his room to drop off your biology notes from today's class on his desk.
When you opened the door and saw the mess that was lying behind, for a moment you wondered if maybe someone had broken in to steal, then you realize that the rest of the house is in pristine conditions and that nothing seems to be missing, so you surmise that the problem is simply him and his inability to wake up at the first rings of his alarm. You think you have a clear picture of what happened: he decided not to hear the alarm once, twice, and then when he opened his eyes he realized that he was late and scrambled to put together the gym bag that you heard his mother tell him to do last night, when you were on a call. He dismissed her concerns, saying that he would just do it the next day.
Responsible, your ass.
Now his room looks like it was ransacked. The entire content of his closet is lying everywhere, on the floor and draped over the back of his desk chair and on the unmade bed, the latter's covers being stripped off for some reason. His desk is covered in textbooks, notes scribbled on loose sheets, pens, old and new notebooks. The desk drawers are open and everything that had previously lied inside is on the floor, spread everywhere. He was probably looking for his My Number Card, you guess, but then again, you're tired of trying to piece together different clues like you're on a crime scene.
You put your hands on your hips and sigh.
It's almost 10pm when you hear Satana mewl from downstairs and then the sound of keys being inserted and the front door opening. You stay right where you are, sitting cross legged on his bed, but you follow his movements based on the sounds he's making. First he baby talks to Satan for a moment, an habit he has that doesn't match the depth of his voice all that well. It does make you weak in the knees but the fact that the addressee of said baby talk is your archenemy. You hear him go to the bathroom, then to the kitchen. You're about to come out, figuring that he's going to take his time in there to fix himself dinner, but then his footsteps are going up the stairs.
He stops right in front of the door of his room. You hear him sigh and then say to himself, <<God. If you fix the warzone behind this door, I'm giving you my firstborn. The male one. You're not touching the girl.>>
You suppress a snort and then the door is opening. Tetsuro peers inside and you peer at his hair, which is no longer following its usual perfectly chaotic line and is instead looking like he slept in several uncomfortable positions on the train ride back. He takes a moment to take in the scene of his room, which you cleaned up and brought back to mint conditions. His hazel eyes, looking almost hysterical in their exhaustion, then squint at you.
<<...God?>>
You give him a sarcastic smile and join your hands in a prayer-like gesture, bowing your head. <<Welcome home, master.>>
He doesn't even react as he enters and closes the door. He leans back against the latter, blinking a couple of times. <<Am I hallucinating you? I think I'm hallucinating you. Aren't you supposed to be home?>>
<<Yes, technically,>> you shrug, hand buried in the plastic bag of chips resting between your crossed legs. <<But after I fed the thing downstairs I did a quick check of the house, and errrr,>> you grimace at the thought of the state his room was in.
Tetsuro nods, looking very much like he gets it as he drags himself toward the bed and toward you. <<I didn't hear the alarm.>>
You arch an eyebrow. <<You made the conscious choice of sleeping through it. Be for real- oof, hey!>> you squawk when he drops his 75 kilos on you and forces you to lie down. <<This is the thanks I get?! You're destroying my chips!>>
Tetsuro doesn't seem very interested in your chips. His body is dead weight on yours and breathing is difficult because your chest is crushed under his own, but your protests - half-hearted to begin with - abate pretty quickly. He's obviously exhausted and you don't want to force him to move, so you pull out the crumpled bag of chips out from between your bodies and put it aside. After wiping your fingers on the back of his shirt, you start drawing featherlight circles on the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape.
<<...did you just clean your fingers on my shirt?>>
<<It looks like it went through worst things than that.>>
He agrees with a vague sound. <<We got caught up with Karasuno and almost didn't catch the train back, so we basically had to run all the way to the station while coach Ukai drove coach Nekomata. We didn't even have the time to shower. Yaku sprayed deodorant all over himself and it caused a reaction and now he's covered in a rash.>>
<<Oh my god, you didn't shower?!>>
His amused huff tickles your neck. <<Really? That's what you got out of all that?>>
Your fingers are exploring the smooth skin on the back of his neck with gentle tenderness, and your skin tickles when he presses his nose against the crook of your neck, dropping a casual kiss on the same spot. <<My boyfriend is covered in grime after playing volleyball for a whole day,>> you reply matter-of-factly, <<and going through two train rides. And I changed the sheets, so you're not getting into bed like this.>>
<<Wow,>> Tetsuro mumbles after a beat of silence, rolling off you to lie on his back. <<I see a glimpse of the future and it's glorious.>>
You snort and nudge him with your foot, sticking your hand back into the crumpled bag of chips and pouting to yourself when you touch only the pulverised crumbles he left in his wake. <<Go take that shower.>>
Tetsuro is unresponsive for a moment, then he groans when he realizes you're not kidding around. He actually appreciates the way you're looking out for him and herding him in the right direction, which is to get rid of the dirt and sweat from the difficult day, but moving feels particularly challenging right now. He's never experienced such exhaustion, and he's pretty sure that the 360-kilometer haul round trip he went through has something to do with it.
In the end, he hauls himself up into a sitting position and then to his feet. He drags his uncooperative body to the closet and grabs a couple of clothes that he doesn't even get a good look at.
<<Yell if you slip in the shower!>> you call after him. <<I can't lift you back up but I sure as hell can take a video.>>
Tetsuro just throws you an okay sign with his fingers over his shoulders.
When he re-emerges once again, it's fifteen minutes later. Considering he usually takes ten and you were expecting twenty, you guess that the water must have woken him up just enough for him to function properly and not drown under the spray.
<<Hey, champ,>> you greet him, scooting over on the cramped mattress of his single bed without taking your eyes off his Nintendo DS. You're fucking up his winning streak with Lolly, his Labrador on Nintendogs that usually aces every competition, but he doesn't need to know that.
Tetsuro croaks out a vague sound and drops face first next to you. He's silent for a long moment. You keep playing but shoot glances at him to check if he's still breathing. A minute stretches into two and now you're worried he fell asleep with his nose buried in the pillow, but then he sighs and says, voice muffled by the fabric: <<You know what's going on right now?>>
You shoot him a side glance. <<That's vague.>>
<<Glutamate.>>
You blink, lowering the Nintendo and scrambling to lower the sound level when the sad music signalling another loss starts playing. <<...That's the new sports drink, right? The one you wanted to try?>>
Tetsuro shifts awkwardly, his long limbs nudging you out of the way as he turns on his back. His eyes are glazed over as he looks at you and blinks, his brows furrowing in slight puzzlement that's mostly laced with tired apathy. <<That's stupid.>>
<<Wow.>>
<<It's an excitatory neurotrasmitter. Its levels are stable throughout the day because there's a draining mechanism that ensures its regulation, but when one is doing difficult tasks that demand attention and dedication it goes up up up until it's empairing the lateral prefrontal cortex by pooling at the synapses between neurons. It's basically the space of the brain that's in charge of working memory and cognitive flexibility,>> he's rambling on, his voice rough and dragged and sounding like it's about to shut down at any moment. His eyes are closed and he's massaging his eyelids with his thumb and index finger. <<Glutamate. That's all. Glutamate. I jumped and blocked the whole day and sat my ass down on two four-hour train rides and now glutamate. Just glutamate.>>
You level him with a concerned glance. <<Yeah. You sound pretty done with it.>>
<<I hate glutamate.>>
You chuckle, and in the following silence Lolly's barks are loud despite the low volume. Tetsuro rolls to his side and drapes an arm over our lap, burying his nose against your hip. He allows himself to close his eyes for good and when he speaks, he's barely moving his lips. <<You playing with Lolly?>>
<<Mhmh.>>
<<How's she doing?>>
You look at the virtual dog's sad face as the judges talk shit about her poor performance in the Junior Cup. When you loaded up the game, she was in the Master Cup. <<Great!>> you chirp. You'll tackle the problem when he finds out.
<<Nice. At least one of us is. Hey, thanks for cleaning up my room, baby,>> he tightens his arm against your stomach and drags you sideways into him. You're quick to put the Nintendo aside, on his nightstand, where he can't see it, and then you gladly melt into him.
<<Don't mention it. I like doing my fair share of charity,>> you speak into his hair, pressing a kiss into it and breathing in the delicate scent of his shampoo.
Tetsuro huffs an amused breath. <<Witch.>>
<<You love it.>>
<<You got the crooked nose too.>>
<<Hey!>>
The laugh that rings out of him is low and velvety despite the clear fatigue so deeply etched into it, and it makes your blood sing with the kind of saccharine happiness that you've only ever felt because of him. Because of hazel eyes and a sleek grin that haunts every corner of your brain even when he's not with you. You have long since realized that he's like a drug to your system. You're not big on chemistry like he is but you recognize the tells: the way your blood pumps quicker, the way your head gets all hazy. He makes you not think right. He'll be the end and the making of you.
<<C'mon, go to sleep already,>> you murmur, getting comfortable under his arm still draped across your stomach. His nose brushes against your cheek and leaves tingles in its wake before he plants a light kiss on the line of your jaw.
<<Wake me up when society starts noticing my absence and Kenma weeps for me on national television,>> he mumbles back.
<<Might as well get into a coma.>>
Tetsuro chuckles again. It's lights out after that.
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