#digenvez

However, all this meant that the small box in his pocket suddenly weighted heavier. Hands in his pockets, he absentmindedly fiddled with one of the ends of the ribbon holding the lid in place.

Looking past his teacher, he caught sight of auburn strands disappearing into their classroom. The girl he was hoping to see. Suguru opened his mouth to call out to her, but hesitated and closed his lips instead, looking back at the taller man in front of him. He nodded, and set off to fulfill his new duty.

It took much, much longer than anticipated, and it wasn’t until later that night that he got back, sweaty, roughed up. His neat top knot lower in his nape with strands of silky dark sticking out unruly.

Walking back to his dorm with limbs heavy and aching, Suguru had nearly forgotten what he had meant to do in the morning. As he walked past the lit kitchen, he took a double take and a quick step back to look into it at the sight of Shoko by the counter.

« There she is, » he said as he approached, as thought it hadn’t been him the one that was away.

They exchanged a few words, and the taller boy accepted a cup of tea from her when offered.

« By the way, » he said after finishing his hot drink, feeling revitalised. He produced a small box from his pocket - sadly it didn’t look as pretty as it did before the day started. Dented, to say the least.

And he was bashful when he handed it over, because he had wished he could give her something pretty without any traces of their reality. That had been too much to hope for. At least the contents were unscathed, fine silver bracelet sitting inside it for her to discover later.

« Happy birthday, Shoko. »

@digenvez : how about you talk to me about dark romance, hmm~? [ from satoru :) ]

'' Satoru ... ''

The Binge Eater gave him a slow and silent stare, eyes filled to the brim with something unspeakable, unreadable, undetectable; until he willed to expose his motives. By the set of his jaw Satoru could see that he is resolved, the strength is in him. The Honored one's flame of concern could be rightfully kindled by devious gleam of raw intensity in his eyes manifesting seconds later. It was also Geto endorsing and minimizing the distance between them in no time to bare minimum. Precursory appendage rose, sharp fingers claiming the collar of his shirt with firm tenderness to keep his balance still and in place, composed for conquest. '' It is that sense of kinship that drives me to tell you I hold you in esteem but there's nothing educational for me to tell you, or perhaps -- ... ''

With that pause Geto compromised frivolity with his next attack and leaned to his face. Closer and closer, maybe too dangerously so, until their conjoined vision briefly evens but then his own teeth sank into albino's plush roseate. So plump and full, biting and pulling on his lower lip, relishing sugary taste of flesh and fruit amid low and sultry exhales against his mouth. '' -- only show ... .''

@digenvez : i saw ur comment u little shit >:| maybe if you could actually talk about your feelings proper, your own romance wouldn't be so dark and dreary >:/

'' Comment? What comment, '' he suddenly experiences flashbacks and gasps, '' oh, that one??! '' AND suddenly he's attacked. '' Are you trying to tell me ... I am incapable to talk about feelings? If you think that's what selective romance is about you don't know me well then. C'mere, I have all the bad romance reserved for you, '' he winks.

@digenvez : sits on his lap~ 💕

There's a presence of heavy (*butt) landing on his -- !! Mugen.

@digenvez : it's Shoko today that would occupy his lap 💕 obviously just because she wants to bother Satoru~ and maybe because she just likes to snuggle him up a lil bit 💕

𝐆 𝐀 𝐒 𝐏 !

'' Hey!! '' Found out and claimed. Feeble sounds skitter in a cascade of sheepish peals, coming out from the archway midst of tightening corridor in his throat. Like a hybridous whimper when there's a new conqueror declaring dead-aim strife to his solitude, furthermore occupying entire territory of his poise and bearings.

Doubtless fact - he was able to swallow that one soba noodle in time was a blessing in disguise, as otherwise, it would have stuck in his throat in stupid chew-out factors that could cause him dire discomfort.

Sudden and maybe unhoped-for. Timeless bangs move with a puff of air coming out from lined controversy of duck face mimic, light tint of roseate creeps its steam ... troweling over perplexed countenance now pleasantly lit, and then a tinkle of tempestuous laughter asserting contention in the spotlight when his face impactly buried into her shoulder blades and legs firmed knees.

More muffled chuckles and undetectable whispers sow deep duskiness among oblique valley of her infraspinatus, more to feel, to enroot, to fructify with procreative chill and movement of his lips chanting cants of unspeakable 'shouldn'ts'. Entwining pearls occurring in ruins of respiration never to be touched by sword-stroke but revel in deep riches.

Frigid aspects of discipline lose track of self-preservation and smush among the warm structure of cottony sweater, he could sing forbidden glooms of vespertine narratives to her spine and lustrate condiments of each trembles all night long. Brisk inhale draws in crisps of fragrant compounds commingle in tracks of bourbon firewood, chocolate, and rich Cuban tobacco. Arms built with months and hours of hard strain and training hardships wrap around the slim frame of a hickory swan nesting in death's embrace, remaining positioned right beneath her rib cage like an impenetrable fortress in reaction to her wordless slope; allowing her to relax and rest assured he won't shoo her away. Why would he; how could he? Because he always missed her too.

'' Feeling wicked today? Just wait till someone figures, " but whatever reason it was his attention is drawn away from the bowl with noodles and he just sits there, savoring the moment of peace and mutual comfort, " -- I have a bad idea let's annoy him together. '' For once he was allowed to be the pest too. With mobile discovered in his pocket, instantaneous fingers clicked and scrolled via joystick until Geto found a contact named 'Cattoru' and started to type:

ㅤ📲 :ㅤ𝟒:𝟎𝟕 𝐏𝐌 [ Hey, Satoru. Guess what ... ] ㅤ📲 :ㅤ𝟒:𝟎𝟖 𝐏𝐌 [ There's a hot chick on my lap right now ... ]

@digenvez : pulls a little on his hair instead? 💕 [ satoru ]

Their life was rivality. To the outward eye it was but inner storms and turmoil seek to dedicate themselves to higher cause until the hand ( *to tear away the veil and reveal the mystery ) of another decides to dictate whether he can endure the sight of prophecy. On the pulse of dead of the night -- acknowledgment of his name tightens warmly around his ribs.

" Restless? " unlike in nature different question comes instead of why his curls are being so presumptuously twiddled. With no sound to spare Geto just merely moistened finger in order to turn another page of the book to get along without refraining from killing, injuring, or distressing beyond inked sentences.

He encourages such modeling alongside divinatory hopes mindlessly brushing such moments and tracing prior trails hanging down as sericeous cords. There's a delicate pull on raven locks -- a hiss silent half a daze but welcoming at the same time lamenting insecurities like seeds of black pomegranate. Spine line arched position of his seat, shoulders slumped, back of his scalp subsided, following the path where the hand came from and met support in cushion with a soft bump -- resting for an instant only in company of breaths and his own restive heart, looking at his towering frame now upside-down.

@digenvez : She might have picked out this specific sweater just for him. Might have picked it specifically because it was very soft and warm and good to cuddle against when approaching Suguru out of the blue, taking only a second to wrap arms around his neck and pull him into a hug for him to relax a bit. [ ♡ weeee ]

To honor the fall in pursuit of new missions and folklore hunting Tokyo squad from Metropolitan Tech assembled march from campus in the sign of tripping! Their anchor - a cottage where the world feels less tacked, engulfed by woodland realm in the mountains. Geto mysteriously delayed beyond the river that divided the residence of students from Senseis by the fault of passionately conceived ideas and returned when there was nothing from the hearkened light of day. With three Pumpkin Spice lattes in his clutch, the reason was none of reaping profits, ( he merely discovered much to his surprise and bewilderment a store that sold gauges from real stones on his secret venture to scout early birthday surprises he could discover for Satoru and Shoko ). '' Sorry, I came back a bit later than planned, I discovered-- … '' The noises of cracking fireplace filled the room where a vintage tune played from the stereo. No alumni in the zone of sight, the room seemed empty so he safely assumed the rest of his companions and colleagues scattered somewhere - technically how could they not, there was a lot to explore around such a place of novelty, and students had to be wild crazy from rare tripping if not frightened by the fact they all had to awaken at deep night to track and seal rare apparitions for their mission. The scarf and outdoor shoes were first to come off, the coffee trio multitasking challenged tank by needle drop.

The Sorcerer medic before she’d been bowed and tired meanwhile slipped out of another room as soon as the other had entered; following intuitively node of interconnection. She could ambush him in rainy weather just as in warmest of sunny days. With interest that spanned far and wide, he observed her movements scooting closer. He caught a glimpse of her eyes like tones of earth and warmest tree barks looking at him with the force of nature and calmness of ponds and in addition to what is usual or strictly necessary something that brought his auto-pilot flight back from the brink.

" Oh, you're awake? Thought you went to take a quick nap since we are about to wake up late at night, either way, I brought us some coffee, '' he couldn't help but feel accomplished at the eye-welcoming shine and blink in surprise once spotting one fluffy sweater, " and it has been long since you used such crafty method on me. " A reason more to treasure sporadic over habitual that brings him highs of joy. Continually, in all kinds of ways he has to be able to stomach falling short of the mark, but there is a certain unique and strange delight when she is the one to confine him in the place of caught breath and solstice.

Behind her, the ensemble of fox-trotting flames from the hearth outlined her silhouette from shapen light-like planetary lodge kissed by lava, breeze that ventured over the window pane ajar raised and played with her hair much it would remind him a witch dancing by the fire. She found her victim, imprisoned him, and hypnotized during darkest dusk; with no chance to escape but to submit and obey her will (* and gladly). Her colors sit in his intuition, sweetening his backward eye. Always ready for a showdown she reminded him of caramel, strong and sensual browns magicked by dappled light, she could skin a bone without blinking an eye, an ever-morphing butcher of the dead, the glow of personality brought a vibrant warmth to his heart and soul. Inseparable from his own. Her fingerprints a surging medicine for mind texturing comfort, so avert from judging eye, unkind words, and frequent attempts to conceal mental pain, softening, reducing spellbinding marvel in their simplicity.

Better days are ahead for those who have put bitter ones behind. The language of her gesture resonates through the gaps and the core of his sentient being; reckoning to envisage their common relaxation. In the very midst of the desert, lucid invitation to live and to create binds itself around his neck. To feel and perceive her hues his arm concealed reverence for her virtues, returning the favor and retaining potency in tinge of lingering smile amid mutual embrace. 

Shoko.