▲ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ
The air between them is stagnant and the tension is a series of thin wires lacing them together, strong and rude and digging into their skin but for either of them to have an outward reaction is uncalled for. They're years deep into this feeling now; just used to it. Akise is accustom to avoiding eye contact and keeping speech minimal around his family--
(but remembering why he is this way is pointless and aggravating like: sandpaper against his mind, trying to catch smoke)
And they walk through the aisles of the grocery store, Akise practicing his perfected skills of avoidance, hands pocketed, face blank as Eiko pays more attention to what they actually need to buy. He does look over once or twice, only for a half second to look away again.
Finally stirs up the atmosphere (if only slightly), half yawning, half annoyed, "Are we done yet?"
