nana's note. how do the tokyo revenger boys love you? i pooped this out in an hour because i fell in love with draken and hanma all over again. hanma's is suggestive GEHEHEH... typical nana behaviour.
mikey loves like a breath of fresh air, the inhale you take when you need some space away from everything and everyone. everyone, but him. mikey knows when to simply bask in the comfortable silence that envelops you two—like a warm hug that has no intention of pulling away. big black eyes glancing over at you as you cling onto his waist, cheek pressed into his back. his thin fingers interlock with yours, squeezing gently as the wind rushes past you and him. he navigates the roads expertly, stopping by the shops to get you and him snacks.
draken loves like a protective touch to the small of your back, guiding you through busy crowds, or simply telling everyone that you're his—and he's yours. drapping his patterned jacket—it's length so long it basically swallows you whole—over your shoulders when you complain about the weather. scolding you gently that you aren't dressed properly, but never truly getting angry with his baby. draken shifts so you're always on the inside of the sidewalk, and never once does his palm leave its place on your lower back.
mitsuya loves like the smell of breakfast getting made from downstairs. he greets you with a warm smile, pouring a glass of milk for mana whilst making an omelete for luna. you scold him for not waking you, to which he always responds with not wanting to disturb your sleep. the two of you start off the morning like every morning, and end your night like every night. mitsuya loves you like a learned routine—it comes naturally to him. to him, taking care of and loving you is like breathing.
baji loves like the lovesick churning in his stomach every time he lays his eyes on you. his body is sending him signs that he's in love—heartbeat pumping, chest tightening, sweaty palms, an undeniable smile that only you can cause so quickly. his mind runs 100 miles an hour whenever you're around, and baji swears he's never used his brain this much—so this, is love. baji knows he's in love when he thinks about how his words and actions will impact you. for baji, you're his mediator.
hanma loves like the feeling of waking up in his bedsheets with no clothes, the evidence of last night's events blooming blotches of red and purple on your skin. or more specifically, hanma's favourite parts of your skin. he caresses his creations with sneaky fingers, grinning against your nape when you squirm in his arms—waking up yourself. neither of you are in a rush to get up, or even move from your position. the birds chirp outside his window, cool winds sneaking in—making you inch ever so closer to his warm skin. trailing kisses along your jaw, hanma throws the blanket over you two once more.
