❝ 𝗻𝗼𝗼𝗼𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝘆!!! 𝗻𝗼 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗮 𝘀𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀?! ❞ she's holding the treasure with upmost care, a rare copy of 1981's station starring one ken takakura. umber hues are practically sparkling as they scan the cover over and over, almost in disbelief that she's holding it in her hands. it's one of the last few movies she needs to complete her collection, a fact she'd mentioned in passing, a fact that okarun actually remembered, leaving an odd, foreign warmth spreading throughout her chest. ugh-- 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭!? once more, he's the cause of her warm face, the frenzied nerves tickling her belly, and a rush that threatens to spill out into a smile.
all at once she sucks in a breath, cheeks puffing out as she keeps it in. they're obviously spending way too much time together, that's the only explanation for the mess of emotions swirling about her mind, a jumble of extremes tugging her this way and that. it's too much to deal with, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯. so she'll blow all her air out, the strange giddiness along with it. one day, she'll finally make sense of things, one day, she might be able to put a name to whatever the hell he brings out of her, but it sure won't be today, not if momo's got anything to say about it. all the sparkle washes away, gaze settled back into a glare as her eyes meet his, ❝ i hope you know i'm still mad at you. y'can't just buy your way back into my good graces. ❞
ft. ken okarun takakura, @awkcult | surprise starter bc ilysm