#seisu

Between frits of sleep, the third path between slumber, she wonders how he managed to lighten this load too, alongside all the others. Buried between sheets and his possessive fingers trapping her in place, Isuzu absentmindedly traces circles against his skin that gradually grow in size.

What a comfortable prison, she marvels.

Isuzu thinks about shifting out of his reach and fulfilling her usual motions - fish out a cheap cigarette, casters, the ones that smell of Shiori - sit out on the balcony and watch the sun rise.

But he’s so selfish. As if somehow reading her semi-conscious mind, he holds her closer instead, until her face is pressed right against his chest.

He breathes. Heavy. Slow. Alive. His heart follows - strong, and proud.