the doctor is in (agony)

can i say that i like mtf hirose who discovers more about their identity post game with mion's help ^-^

sometimes you need to imagine laying together on an old worn couch far too small for the both of you in a million different ways. piercing needles left in bathroom sinks and sticky notes covered in a small neat script scattered about in every room. being dragged to bed and curling around each other, so close its impossible to tell yourselves apart. smudged lipstick and gentle hands.

and sometimes i imagine sitting on the hardwood next to your desk chair and leaning my head on your waist, glasses nearly useless with the only light in the room coming from the dim strings along the ceiling's edges and a singular desk lamp. red ink pens and rollerballs nestled in the same container on the counter, medical textbooks wedged between figurines and fanmail, a coathook of a cartoonish deer's head mounted at the perfect height for a lab coat all too serious for it to be hung on it every night. giving up on the practicality of it all, the strict system of how to exist in my own space, for the sake of flexing and relaxing into the space you carved out just for me - sleeping less efficiently curled up in a bed much too small for two, you practically on top of me, somehow more comfortable than i've ever been even with half the space in my lungs as usual. yes, sometimes i think extensively about your steady hand being the first to ever apply my lipstick, the way you coaxed me and the understanding of myself being with you gave me to consider it in the first place, how it was such a similar shade to your eyes i felt suddenly compelled to smudge kiss marks all over your face to complement them. sometimes i think about the constancy of it, the overarching knowledge that every particular moment and even every specific fact about ourselves and the spaces we shared will never fully paint the picture that we once had. and i smile, and write it down again, to hold onto for the life we're building today.