#theoreticalheart

“Oh!”

Takumi slammed his hands down on the shared table he and the idol were sitting at. He was standing up from his seat and staring straight at him with a very focused look. The people who sat around them stared on at the goggled teen whispering among themselves, no doubt about Takumi, but the Detective-in-training could really care less.

“Rap doesn’t have many tuba solos.” Is what he says like its the greatest revelation in the world and sits down, “that’s what I was trying to say, there’s distinctive lack of tuba solos in rap songs, its oddly disappointing.”

theoreticalheart

Haruka was having one of those rare moments where she wanted to sing. Looking out her room’s window, she softly sang Maji Love 1000%, the song that held meaningful feelings to her. She sees a bird that was struggling on the branch; stretching her hand out for it to hop onto her finger, but that doesn’t work out too well. Her body slips forward as she reached farther, to the point she was about to fall out. 

Staring off blankly with droopy eyes, the teal-haired male sighed quietly as he leaned himself against a tree. As relaxing every other day seemed to be, today at this very spot had to be it -- the very best in his book. Another sigh escaped him, a quiet melody becoming more initialized as words.

Send me a ★ and i'll answer...

If we kissed:

[x] This wouldn’t happen.

[] Oh disgusting.

[] Again, again.

[] Kiss you back.

[] Let’s take this to the bedroom.

[] Slap/Push you away.

If you asked me out I’d say:

[x] Um no.

[] YES.

[] HOLY ASDFGHJK YESSSSS.

Can we cuddle?:

[x] No.

[] Ew.

[] Sure.

[] YES.

Sex?:

[] Let’s do it.

[x] No. You can’t handle my d.

[] FUCK YES.

[] No.

Should you reblog this?:

[x] Yes. I want to send you one.

[] Yes.