#fiorediamant

Dejavu.  The only term to describe the half breed’s current situation; not counting the obvious differences. The environment was entirely more peaceful than when he and the gourmet first got together through a ghoul’s only ‘human’ beverage. It was a rather relaxing moment as he continued to allow the ice to clank together in his cup. Rather than respond right away to Shuu, he took in a deep breath; cleared his mind of any haunting memories of the time he went on this all-too-familiar date. If that was what he was willing to call this. It did have a nice ring to it, but he didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

The vibe that was given to him was a whole lot different than the first from the older ghoul. Instead it was calmer, less.....predator-like. He certainly has changed and that left the younger at ease. The two have become close.

Vore became still as soon as he saw the man. The man was well-dressed, suited up in bold colors and patterns. His hair was similar to Vore’s--similar enough--and he gave off an air that screamed “fabulous and flamboyant.”

Vore felt a small connection to him in that moment. The main difference between the two was that the man was conventionally attractive whereas Vore was more lanky, perhaps in the awkward way, but never mind that.

He approached and sat down next to the pretty man. He leaned a little into his space. “Excuse me sir, I couldn’t help but notice you have violet hair, I have violet hair, and that we are both well-dressed young fellows with good taste.” Vore gestured to his own stylish outfit, then gave a dashing smile. “We should bang.”

There were rare moments that Kaneki would express his thoughts out loud when by himself, unable to contain such sentiments. An example would be such as this one, while he gazed upon the twilight sky.  It seemed that another had heard him however, when he heard someone agree with him. 

Kaneki tilted his head, meeting gazes with the owner of the voice. He hadn't given him much thought earlier when he saw him, but the stranger was rather ... a spectacular sight himself, now that he had gotten a careful look. Someone rich & sophisticated, he assumed, by his appearance, and the sense of elegance that he gave off.

     Lips press into a thin line. The man across the street... a part of him had hoped he would have left the country, given he’d been presented an opportunity to escape. Yet there he was, standing in front of a coffee shop as if he might be considering whether he truly wanted to go in or not. There was no question about who it was standing there, either... no, he knew that profile all too well.