( smarter than he looks, then, or so he wants to say--but the truth of the matter is, devil or not, this thing next to him moves with a shrewdness that seems to speak to a certain level of knowledge, or even training; his face is kind, and his smile is warm, but there's a wariness there, as though he's practiced at it, as though the lackadaisical nature is both earnest and put-upon. it's sort of oddly fascinating to watch it; he takes another drag of his cigarette, his other arm folded in tight against his stomach--his gaze follows the man, hawks, as he patters around with his coffee, as he eases back onto the bed, as he takes his few sips.
this isn't the sort of situation that he's ever been in before--and never planned to be in it, either. most of the times he's gotten drunk, he's been safe on his own living room floor, or ferried home in a taxi away from an izakaya after a company dinner. waking up to a handsome man naked in his bed is entirely unexpected.
but, if they're sharing names-- ) Hayakawa.
( another soft pass of smoke, thoughtful. ) Hayakawa Aki.
( it's not impolite, and certainly not tinged with any disgust--it's more like he's reading questions off a script, polite, as he lets the cigarette hang between his knuckles-- )
What are you?
( a human? a devil? hybrid? in the end, it likely doesn't matter, in a place like this. but it would give him some peace of mind; he's never seen wings like these, soft, like something's happened to them--there's a slow swallow, and then he tilts his head back against the headboard. )
...It's not out of spite. You look injured.
( if not at his back, then maybe it's the look in his eyes--like he keeps expecting the world to fall down around them. )
no subject
this isn't the sort of situation that he's ever been in before--and never planned to be in it, either. most of the times he's gotten drunk, he's been safe on his own living room floor, or ferried home in a taxi away from an izakaya after a company dinner. waking up to a handsome man naked in his bed is entirely unexpected.
but, if they're sharing names-- ) Hayakawa.
( another soft pass of smoke, thoughtful. ) Hayakawa Aki.
( it's not impolite, and certainly not tinged with any disgust--it's more like he's reading questions off a script, polite, as he lets the cigarette hang between his knuckles-- )
What are you?
( a human? a devil? hybrid? in the end, it likely doesn't matter, in a place like this. but it would give him some peace of mind; he's never seen wings like these, soft, like something's happened to them--there's a slow swallow, and then he tilts his head back against the headboard. )
...It's not out of spite. You look injured.
( if not at his back, then maybe it's the look in his eyes--like he keeps expecting the world to fall down around them. )