—— On the Town | Tsuki & Hirato
Mierda. Por qué es tan difícil? Tsukitachi stood in the center of his bedroom, hands tugging at his hair as he spun slowly on the spot, taking in the mess of clothes strewn around him. He was supposed to be getting ready for his date with Hirato - no, not date, he reminded himself firmly; a friendly dinner. The only trouble was that he could not decide what to wear. Tsukitachi had never thought of himself as vain before but standing in front of his mirror after having tried on eighteen different clothing combinations, he did rather feel it.
Sighing in defeat, he sat down heavily on his bed, closing his eyes in thought. It should not be this difficult for him to choose an outfit. He didn't care about that sort of thing, did he? He'd never had this much trouble getting ready before in his entire life. Perhaps it was the way that Hirato had asked him that had left him in this mess - in his mind, he was still thinking of this as a date and so didn't know how he wanted to present himself. Did he dress smart? Did he dress comfortably? Did he dress colourfully or less so? Dios mío.
After another moment full of heavy sighing and quiet muttering, Tsukitachi rose to his feet again, slapping his hands against his cheeks as though to clear his head. He's not going to care how you look either way, idiota. Pulling an unwrinkled red shirt from one of the clothing piles on his bed Tsuki slid it on, buttoning it up and leaving the top two undone. Smart casual, he had settled on. It seemed only fitting and he felt somewhat silly for having spent almost three hours fretting over something as unimportant as clothing.
Leaving the dark jeans he was already wearing on, Tsuki grabbed one of his warmer cardigans and pulled it on over the top, glancing in the mirror for only a second before he left his bedroom. If he spent any more time staring at his reflection, Hirato would arrive and he would not be ready. Making his way into the living room of his apartment, he only had a few minutes to pour himself a small glass of wine before there was a rhythmic knock at the door. Punctual as always.