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lafuriosare replied to your post:
“Since when is sex poetic? I suddenly don’t feel...
Gimme a sec, I’ll — Every time you peel back my skin, pry open my ribs, && feast on my insides. Every time, you make a meal of my heart, && every time, I let you. — That more your style, bratty prince?
“Do I look like Hannibal Lector to you or something?”
Since the final battle all of their lives have been a mess--- things were supposed to get better, but things got worse, and now Squalo can’t even get a day where breathing doesn’t feel like a marathon. Deep down he knows Xanxus will pull through (at least he tells himself this) but he knows that this is all his fault.
And despite his own injuries, Squalo keeps working, and buries himself in the reconstruction of their organization until he forgets about breathing & forgets about eating & forgets about everything else that makes him feel like he’s dying.
Casualties were sporadic, but the numbers kept trickling upward, and there is still business as usual to conduct. Lussuria brings him food and reminds him that he needs to eat---needs to stop eventually---and at one point Squalo falls asleep in their arms like a goddamn child.
They always have been good at picking up the pieces, where Squalo always has been good at breaking the pieces into tinier pieces. It’s a good way to even things out. But now that Xanxus is out of the hospital, Squalo knows he’ll have to see him.
It’s not like he didn’t go at all---he just wasn’t able to bring himself to speak---he felt so ashamed.
Squalo all ready has a glass of whisky ready for him. All ready has the filet mignon hot & ready, sitting on Xanxus’ desk. Everything is perfect. Everything is as it should be. Shit, even Bel is on his best behavior---so is Fran---but he can’t stop the tight knot in his stomach from coiling even more. Benvenuto a casa. Welcome home. He wants to say it, but can’t, so he simply steps to the side so Xanxus can renter his domain, and prays to God that Xanxus still finds him useful in some way. Even if it’s just that he can cook a decent fucking steak.
Anything is better than nothing.
