I'm scared that you're not real, that you're a dream and I have to wake up.
words hinted at so much more, hidden meanings covered beneath thick layers of narcissism, an act for the audience that dropped when there was none ( when he stopped being one of the crowd, it made him happy ) and yet, as soon as he had broken the silence, it still weighed his heart down, shrinking it before he had even been able to process them when they still lingered in the darkness.
“ . . . ” he hesitates, wishing to say something - anything that’ll lessen the pain, that’ll lick his wounds but he can’t quite put the right words together. in fact, he doubted he could even muster the right reply, not even if he was given hours or days. this was one of the things you just accepted in silence, but that wasn’t enough for him.
jun closed the distance slowly ( i’m real ), shoulder leaning against hibiki’s and gloveless hands hesitant in their approach only to stop midway. anxiety was what caused it, not sadness; he wasn’t sure if this was a mix of both, one where we couldn’t get rid of the former without drowning the latter. in a futile attempt to do it either way, he inhaled deeply. i can’t just let him say that and stay quiet. he took off his glasses, being close enough for him to see hibiki without needing them, and remained in silence as he stared at his friend. gaze soft but unwavering, brows furrowed in the slightest in the shadows underneath light bangs.
“ i’m here, i’m real. ” hand hovered over hibiki’s, “ and i’m also afraid. ” of something different, of course, but he couldn’t bring himself to voice his fears when being so close of having them come to life ( by taking his ) should he make one single mistake. “ i’m real . . . ” a pause, “ hey. ” lips parted for an abrupt exhale, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards at how ordinary that was.