#jubilantking

If you had asked him why he had done it, Kanae wouldn’t be able to reply. There was no logic in the act, not at all -- Lashing out at the one who cared about him, who loved him. It was absurd. Absurd to listen to the words of others, to those that said he was a bad influence, or more often simply that Sinbad was unhealthy. But that couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t let it be true. He needed him. 

A choked and unsteady breath, eyes fixed on the wound he had inflicted with one wild and disjointed thrust of his kagune. Panic. Panic at the blood dripping off of his kagune and all over the floor, panic at his own actions -- Sinbad was going to be mad, mad at him and he couldn’t have that he couldn’t. 

Sinbad’s laugh echoed in his ears, ripping his eyes, wide with horror, away from the wound to the other’s face. Sinbad’s laughter could sound like music on the best of days, but this, this sent a new wash of anxiety through him. He was chuckling, he had just been stabbed and he was chuckling. That wasn’t music, that was impending disaster, a thought only heightened as Sinbad pulled him close. 

As those arms closed around him, Kanae had to remind himself that he loved him.       “I--”

How typical of Kouen to be unable to express himself properly and leave his younger brother alone with a foreigner to explain with prettier words. A sigh.

Send me “good morning” for my muse’s reaction to waking up next to yours. || Accepting 

There was a brief moment of surprise that there was someone else in his bed when he first woke up. The other body sprawled next to him wasn’t unwelcome however -- Seeing Sinbad upon awakening had brightened his day already.         “Bonjour, mon amor.”