“We’re too young for that to be true,” Midousuji gravels out in a sleepy mumble, his eyes thinning shut, their subsequent appearance not unlike a baby bird’s. If they were somehow wed in a world they were allowed to be wed in (aka Kyoto), even outside of how outrageously complicated those implications were outside of the legal, Midousuji figures eight wouldn’t be late unless they were in their late forties, married for at least 7.
Which is so weirdly specific and also not real. It’s not like his mind works too fast for him to sit down and parse things, after all!
“You don’t have to tell me,” Midousuji eventually answers, and yawns. His head rocks gently sideways. How does a day sneak up on anyone? Midousuji is confident that’s never happened to him. Every day is with exhausting hyper scrutinized routine—what Ishigaki says sounds more far fetched than Peter Pan.
His heavy eyes lid, his limbs feeling heavier than sand anyway as the warmth penetrates through his bones deep.
He doesn’t mean to—he even tries to fight it, actually!
But before long, head mostly sideways against the counter of the kotatsu’s table surface, Midousuji is deeply asleep. The day didn’t sneak up on him, though; that’s not why he was this tired. It was because Ishigaki snuck up on him. Not today specifically, but over time. Like an ornery cat, Midousuji can’t recall a time he’s fallen asleep in front of someone since his last caretaker.
It’s no mistake, just as a distrustful, damaged cat may, that Midousuji allows himself to doze off.
no subject
Which is so weirdly specific and also not real. It’s not like his mind works too fast for him to sit down and parse things, after all!
“You don’t have to tell me,” Midousuji eventually answers, and yawns. His head rocks gently sideways. How does a day sneak up on anyone? Midousuji is confident that’s never happened to him. Every day is with exhausting hyper scrutinized routine—what Ishigaki says sounds more far fetched than Peter Pan.
His heavy eyes lid, his limbs feeling heavier than sand anyway as the warmth penetrates through his bones deep.
He doesn’t mean to—he even tries to fight it, actually!
But before long, head mostly sideways against the counter of the kotatsu’s table surface, Midousuji is deeply asleep. The day didn’t sneak up on him, though; that’s not why he was this tired. It was because Ishigaki snuck up on him. Not today specifically, but over time. Like an ornery cat, Midousuji can’t recall a time he’s fallen asleep in front of someone since his last caretaker.
It’s no mistake, just as a distrustful, damaged cat may, that Midousuji allows himself to doze off.