[ choso is so, so silent for a long minute afterward. for that minute (seventy-nine seconds), there is only the sound of their breathing; the steady rise and fall of choso’s chest, the whisper of each exhale through his teeth, the individual cacophony of each fiber in each thread in each shift of their weight on the bed. even his heart feels quiet, its beat become muted in the perfect inertia of this singular, aching moment
the maelstrom of his thoughts has quieted.
In the aching, heavy pause after Yuji has spoken, Choso whispers back, (quiet as he can be but it is still an agonizing grate, a jagged stone stumbled into a mirror-surface pond) ]
no subject
the maelstrom of his thoughts has quieted.
In the aching, heavy pause after Yuji has spoken, Choso whispers back, (quiet as he can be but it is still an agonizing grate, a jagged stone stumbled into a mirror-surface pond) ]
I love you too, Yuji. I will always love you.