the scrape of the plate in your direction would have startled you had you already not been well aware of his movements. ( if you were someone who could believe your talents on stealth to be better than average, you might have succeeded in pretending you weren’t watching him with fleeting glances from the beginning. ) it isn’t difficult to to gauge the expression on his face: the open honesty he carries less than others, yet more so than your own depiction. even with the lack of structure on his appearance that indicates anything, you still can piece together the offering & questioning look silent on ikuya. the plate of onigiri, made from the leftovers you carefully packaged in your own fridge, sits more towards you than him. it’s confusing, the request for a snack that he’s hardly put a dent in, & the lowered gaze he provides in your direction — - insistent, even with no presented explanation.
there are two, your mind provides: he’s either not as hungry as he led you to believe, or the meal isn’t any good. ( the third, wiggling in the back of your brain with its own perseverance, says that he’s extending it to you, to share. you ignore it. )
“ huh, why — - i made that ... ” what could you say if you had the backbone to do so? ( if you had the courage to dictate it, it would be akin to: i made it for you. or because you asked me to. ) or are you going to feign an expression of exasperation, a natural inclination for you under circumstances of your gutless acts? with the pinch of your brow, the insignificant downturn of your mouth, it seems your cowardly mentality wins out once more. how the words, extended under the pretense of full affection & care no matter the stiff tone to your speech, disappear before they’re even conceived. you don’t think to wonder if your voice trembles when you mutter: “ eat it. ”
@guideheart : ❛ [ slide ] sender pushes an item across the table to receiver ( from ikuya! ) ❜ ★
