#lichtgrau

That voice message had left him reeling, to be honest. He was glad Arata replied, but also pissed that he decided to ramble on in a goddamn voice message when he knew he was on holidays. But mostly confused. A heavy, guilt-flavoured confusion that chipped away at his confidence that he knew exactly where himself and Arata stood in terms of their unofficial-best-friendship. Now why did Arata have to word it like that?! Fumie-san must have seen his mood right away, and he had to give it to the man for trying to cheer him up in his own unobtrusive fashion. But the trip was over before he knew it, and he barely remembered anything about the last three days of it.

He still got the souvenirs of course - stashed inside his overnight bag which was slung over his shoulder. He had just gotten off the train station and was walking slowly back home when he spotted a figure in the distance. On a bicycle. There was no way... "You're fucking kidding me." Sometimes, reality was stranger than fiction. The tires squealed to a stop, then the self-dubbed unofficial bestie climbed off to meet him. Did he tell him when he'd be back? Even the time? He didn't remember. Maybe Aina told him...

Their faces were half in shadow with the sun setting quickly to their right. Like something straight out of a fucking romance drama script... Arata seemed excited to see him again, even if he was probably trying to tone it down for his sake. Worse still, by those warm, empathetic eyes of his, he had the feeling that he had already forgiven him, as he always did. The words felt like stones in his mouth, but he would keep it simple.

soft & small moments・❥・@lichtgrau

"... Why come here? Why do you call on me?" The voice boomed around the chasm that made up the dreamworld they resided in. Despite the volume, there was something unsteady about the voice - a child playing at something bigger, crafting shadow puppets on the walls.

The realm itself was like an Escher painting. Staircases that led to walls, which were really floors to another building. The people who traversed these odd spaces were just as strange. Their faces would morph, ever so subtly, from one identity to another. Almost not discernible, especially when your mind kept screaming out that they were the same people - didn't you recognize them?? Occasionally one or two would simply blink out of existence, only to enter a door a few minutes later.

recently, there was a photography contest with a prize of a brand, new camera. think of what she could do with that! she got giddy thinking about it. but this would be a really big step. the winner would get their own photography exhibition and she knew that this was only a hobby anyway, did she have the right..?

after days of contemplating, she decided that she'd go for it. she wanted to showcase her artistic eye. there was bound to be someone who thought the same. as she was scouting locations, the camera's shutters go off at the same time a man turns around. she gasped, both in shock and in awe, how did he fit that timing perfectly? there were shots like these, and it was one of her first ones.

[x]

"Excellent. I'm glad to be able to give you a reason to check out a festival." Z was doing a little shimmy, a bit delighted that Arata had agreed to go with them.

Now Mito understood. The struggle of choosing a date outfit = clothes strewn all over the bed, 3 minutes posing at this angle and that angle in front of the mirror before everything is taken off again. If he had Isagani's wardrobe, he knew that he would take one whole day to decide the next day's coordinate. The two of them had set a theme for their matching clothing, but nothing concrete, since an element of surprise was still nice. He still had two hours before the rendezvous. It was time to make a decision...

The spring weather made it all feel so much giddier as he finally made his way towards the workshop. He had bought a small bunch of pink and white tulips as a gift. His blonde hair was worn half up, with a blue beret patterned with clouds on top. He chose a low-cut white tank top, over which he layered a frilled shirt in silky, translucent blue. These were tucked into high-waist ivory jean shorts with a slight flare at the hem to bring out his slightly fuller hips. A cable knit cardigan was draped over the shoulders. The sky and cloud motifs were repeated in his knit bag, socks, and accessories, and of course, his makeup spoke entirely of spring and new love.

@lichtgrau・❥・haha what if we shipped them meme

Miran wanted him. Despite her interest being clear from the start, the woman had held back. Maybe not with words but certainly with other advances. What if he started to feel uncomfortable around Miran? What if she was too forceful, too sexual? Too much of a dominant person? As much as she pretended not to care, she did - especially wondering what Jonghun was thinking. Maybe, a kind soul like him deserved someone better, someone who was not a force of nature, someone more delicate - even though Miran could be just that. Most people around her only saw her as a tough person and ignored the other sides. The one craving touch, security. Genuine affection.

In the end, she had to try. She needed to know if he could react to her the same way Miran already felt whenever his name or picture popped up and she answered a little too soon. And so, after their usual gym date and a nice, warm shower, she tugged at his shirt and pulled him towards her. For a while, silence came over them both and while not the unpleasant kind, certainly a nerve-wrecking one. As Jonghun seemingly remained close without pulling away, Miran caressed his face, leaning in to indeed take claim. Whether he accepted or not would still be up to the man, no question. Yet how could he decide if they never came to this point? If all there was would be intense flirting and no action?