“It’s just something that I could picture hangin' off your bag or whatever. Don’t look too deeply into it.”

hidetoshi-kun…………no!!!!

Dazed and half a glass into a rare weekend nightcap, ice to the nads does wonders for the attention span. 

It draws a yelp, culminating in a sharp hiss that curls him forward. 

“ It’s– It’s fine, really. ” A thumb pressed hard to his lips is a paper-thin veneer of held composure, willing the idea of tequila dripping down his inner thigh to pass. 

It was fine. It really was. Until he is to look her in the eye and his last nerve finishes short-circuiting. Those eyes; the same red-hue, the same show of concern. A ghost that couldn’t have been brought on by a simple fireball. He looks at her as sure as if she had slapped him herself, and recoils thus. An unfortunate decision; one that dropped his stomach to the floor the moment he pushed back from the wobbly bar stool. Out of desperation on his way backward, he clings to the side of the bar for dear life, held in awkward limbo between gravity, and a two-legged chair. 

If one atom would give way, it would drop his sorry ass to the floor.

God, help him.

i know im not on the right blog but. hrm.