[ It'll bruise, he's sure. Imprecision is often at fault for such shrapnel when it embeds itself in nearby flesh, the tenderest of which catches the worst friendly fire. Without intent to moor itself in, Kizuna is left with only that, the tug that hauls him upwards as if he weighs next to nothing. He doesn't, but this is more than a matter of skin and skin, muscle and muscle. Perhaps he's gotten spoiled, being in a place like this for so long.
If only his insides felt like that too. Weightless. ]
A bad precedent in a place like this... [ He manages, his voice hoarse with the salt of an ocean sucked dry by fire and heat, the moon in him dull, dusted over. ] Take what you want.
[ His hands or the meager shield of his jacket rolling off his shoulders. ]
no subject
If only his insides felt like that too. Weightless. ]
A bad precedent in a place like this... [ He manages, his voice hoarse with the salt of an ocean sucked dry by fire and heat, the moon in him dull, dusted over. ] Take what you want.
[ His hands or the meager shield of his jacket rolling off his shoulders. ]