#lemillon

       "  togata.  "  you almost, almost, attach a ' - senpai ' to the end of his name, out of respect, but it still feels too foreign against your tongue  (  you’ve never been one to use honorifics  )  ----  &&  you swallow it, only allowing his name to leave. you assume he's at the 1 - a dorm to check up on the child, eri,  &&  lucky enough, she's the reason you're approaching him.

            “    i’ve heard about you before!!    you’re amazing!!    ”    not so much whispers,  but real information about the aspiring hero known as lemillion.    what he hadn’t heard,  however,  was what happened,  completely unaware as he was thrilled just to meet him.

     -!!! 

 familiar arms wind around his torso and tug CLOSE, enveloping tamaki in a cage equal parts warmth and vigor. surprise soon melts with quiet SMILE, unseen but perhaps felt in the subtle shift against the others shoulder. limbs PREVIOUSLY frozen move on their own to reciprocate, finding HOME within small of the others back as he enjoys their closeness. they HOLD for several moments, silently relishing unadulterated CONTACT. yet all good things must come to an end. it’s bittersweet to pull apart when awarded the blondes beaming GRIN, radiance helping his own grow for no particular reason other than feeling just RIGHT. his expression wore rare shades of impish, shown to precious FEW.

true to this, tamaki relaxes instantly, arms wrapping around his BEST FRIEND to return the hug. it hadn’t even been a PARTICULARLY BAD DAY ---- though he’s not complaining, because a hug from mirio is one of the best possible things that could happen.

he rests his head on mirio’s shoulder and LETS HIMSELF FORGET that eventually they will have to get out of this position.

💤 —

if  kuri’s  calculation  was  correct  (  and  it  often  was  ),  she  would  be expecting  a  very  special  visitor  in  around  half  an  hour  —  a  boy  she  affectionately  called  sunday.  that  probably  wasn’t  his  real  name,  but  she didn’t  know  what  it  truly  was.  all  she  knew  was  that  every  other  sunday  at  ten  ‘o  clock,  she  would  see  his  familiar  blond  tufts  of  hair  brushing  against  the  doorframe,  only  barely  avoiding  collision.  he  asked  for  the  same  every  time  —  white  daisies.  she  had  grown  so  attached  to  the  customer  that  she  tended  to  the  daisies  with  fervent  care,  in  order  to  build  him  the  gallant  bouquet  she  felt  he  deserved.  after  all,  no  one  came  as  regularly  as  he  did  —  what  else  could  he  be  but  a secret  admirer ?

today  wasn’t  a  sunday;  it  was  the  fourteenth.  regardless  of  what  day  it  was,  he  always  came  in  on the  fourteenth.  if  it  was  a  weekday,  which  it  so  happened  to  be,  he  would  visit  her  at  four  thirty.  kuri had  been  working  all  day  —  not  only  did  she  have  a  morning  shift,  but  she  took  over  a  coworker’s  in  order  to  see  the  stranger  who  had  caught  her  eye.  fortunately,  the  day  had  been  slow  and  allowed  kuri  to  nap  most  of  the  hours  away.

she  was  beginning  to  doze  off  once  again  when  she  heard  the  chimes  on  the  door  ring.  in  walks  the  subject  of  her  daydreams,  who  she  had  no  other  name  for  than  sunday.  he  walks  up  to  the  counter,  gives  her  a  warm  smile,  and  asks  for  yet  another  dozen  of  daisies.  as  she  goes  to  retrieve  his  bouquet,  she  braces  herself  to  finally  speak  to  the  boy.  before  he  can  even  take  the  flowers,  she  grabs  his  palm  between  hers  and  stares  deep  into  his  soul.