#loganrambles

satoru can’t help himself then— he licks his lips slowly, tongue darting out to slide over his lower lip, getting another taste of you. he hums. “sweet.”

(he’s an A-list actor, known for his professionalism once the cameras start rolling. he always nails his lines and the improv he adds when he sees fit, so he rarely ever has to reshoot scenes— but for some reason anytime you both have a kiss scene he’s always fumbling something that makes it so that you both have to start the scene all over again… he’s essentially pretending to forget his own lines so that he can keep shoving his tongue down your throat a little longer)

lingering near his gravesite long after everyone parted ways, admiring how the sunset reflects off the marble gravestone that read his eulogy. rolling an unlit cigarette between her fingers inside her pocket, debating lighting it. the image of satoru’s upturned nose flashes in her mind, then. a look of disgust on his face while he dramatically waves his hand around to disperse the smoke quicker. shoko laughs, softly— so lost in her own thoughts she doesn’t register the tears rolling down her face, nor the subtle breeze that seems to pass right as they reach the apples of her cheeks. almost as if satoru were standing in front of her, wiping her tears with a small smile, shaking his head at her for crying over him like this