you're used to the quiet, and he's used to watching you fill it
warnings: none, ooc touya as usual
a/n: collection of my recent touya thoughts... unedited..
touya, who absentmindedly starts touching you at random, his hands clammy and unsure, settling awkwardly around your waist while you brush your teeth, fingers resting over your clothes like he was still trying to figure out if he was allowed to hold you like that.
touya hovers more than he speaks, by the kitchen table, the doorway, the window with the cracked glass where the breeze slips through. you don’t always hear him come in, one second it’s just you and the sound of water boiling, and then his boots are by the door, his coat slung over a chair like he has always lived here.
most nights, you’re curled up on the couch with something half playing in the background when touya drops beside you without a word, arm tossed along the back, not quite touching until his fingers drift, brushing the edge of your sleeve, the curve of your thigh, tracing over your knee like he's grounding himself. it’s not intentional, it’s just what his hands do when he feels he doesn’t have to think.
sometimes when he thinks you’re asleep he reaches out, fingers brushing your ankle like he’s checking you’re still there, like part of him hasn’t fully believed you’d stay. the first time he really stays over, not just until you’ve drifted off or the sun starts to bleed through the curtains, you find him in the hallway, crouched on the floor next to your shared laundry basket, rifling through a pile of clothes he clearly has no intention of folding. he doesn’t notice you looking at first, just holds one of your shirts in his hands, staring at it like it said something back to him.
you don’t question him, just let your hand slide over his arm as you pass. he’s still figuring things out, just like you, and for now, that’s enough.
©TUOYYA.