[ it is... touching. it touches choso in a way he can't quantify, a feather-light brush over some raw thing inside of him that rather than flinching away from, he lets wash over him, envelop him, possess him.
And it is warm.
He lays the box aside to better handle his own ring, lets the wink of the stone in the light hold his gaze as he tries it on each finger in turn. Which would it fit? Which one felt best? Important questions. It would live on the digit he decided on, after all: this was a gift from Yuji. This was Yuji's precious connection to Choso. ]
I will never part with it. [ Simple, iron conviction: he really won't. Ever. ]
1/2
And it is warm.
He lays the box aside to better handle his own ring, lets the wink of the stone in the light hold his gaze as he tries it on each finger in turn. Which would it fit? Which one felt best? Important questions. It would live on the digit he decided on, after all: this was a gift from Yuji. This was Yuji's precious connection to Choso. ]
I will never part with it. [ Simple, iron conviction: he really won't. Ever. ]
Thank you, Yuji.