#doueegezh

[despairforme]

I look like you? : |c Hu.

❝ Too bad 'da person who said it was hidin' their face, so ya don't even know who insulted ya. ❞

[godsbox]

" Do you want a key to my private place? " Specific emphasis on specific words with specific voice. " Then you can just relax--- " after? After whatever they did, wouldn't matter. Just a means to be ---, a sign to show that he wanted him around - fully.

his neatness is an amendment, behaviors pruned and holding his own knees stiff enough to not upset a stack of wax-shined wrappers     some with the candy silently spat back in, bored of working through the coating. wanting only for the preoccupation and having had an entire carton to spare for it. it felt ... rationally alright, stoppering up his own words and finding flyaway thoughts wouldn't come as easy, could deflate like a flat gum bubble and hold his tongue just as stained with the failure of it all. felt like something suguru wanted ; like some twisted up mistranslated mess of whatever satoru could make of it, holding his hands clear of touching on the past, of being a poor house guest, of saying anything displeasing & finding himself entirely silent at the end of it all. and thirteen candy wrappers deep into his carboard carton with thirteen sentences quietly bitten into soft taffy squares, satoru's brows tick up, surprise in the addressing like being roused from sleep, like being finally called from a very long waiting room sit.

was it a reward ? he'd pushed a wad of candy to tuck to the side of his cheek and gingerly wiped knuckles at his lips, black glass the only cautionary measure pulling bare bright eyes back away from the draw of his attentions     never needed to wonder when people'd become such gnats to dim bulbs, suguru's was a light that blinded. he could rationalize burning the skin of his fingertips just to touch on that warmth for even a little while. ❝ isn't that .. ? ❞ words stall a little. tasting like fruit flavoring, like strawberry. it was an intimate thing, wasn't it ? a facsimile like a near neighbor to being asked to stay, move in, live together ( maybe only in the movies. maybe only in an imagination free from context, cut from reality. ) satoru added another wrapper to the stack, split the candy between his teeth. ❝ if you're offering. guess so. ❞

[godsbox]

why do you suck at the kissing thing so much, do you need someone to train with

delights him in a way that sprouts unabashed to hear him, him and the perfect coil of a cult charmer voice lightened down to grit and grime and an ease like ice melted into lukewarm limbs ; brushing hands, outward knuckles. closeness in small doses that he'd bottle all up and sip from reserves in the dead hours, pulling warmth from his own guts. ❝ -huh ? suited me just fine. ❞ retort like a jerk of a knee strung itself over the word, kiss, kissing thing     a missed meteoric wrinkle in the the makeup of his mind, all the tangled facets to the topic of geto now so damnably tinted ( but embarrassment was a melty misshapen thing to fit between them. no room for it, a wrong shape . he'd rather taste than stay stuck sharing breath with shame and patience. ) ❝ what'd you want me to be good for ? i'll get scooped up for sure, then     get a whole line going when demand gets as high as my quality. ❞ grin bitten, suguru's wrist a hot heartbeat in the circle of satoru's hand, ❝ you want me to yourself, right ? tell me it has to be you. ❞