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writetomyheart2019-04-10 11:50 pm
bluedreaming) wrote in writetomyheart2019-04-10 11:50 pm
[team sonic] these rabbit holes
First word(s) from amends. This post is scheduled.
At ease, Seishirou tells the Russian Blue in the window. She rumbles a warning, but doesn't otherwise complain, preoccupied by the cityscape.
“Have you see Subaru?” Seishirou asks, but the cat ignores him, eyes tracking the motion of the vehicles streaming along the skyways. He sighs, resting his chin on a hand. Across the view, billboards change their messages faster than he can absorb their contents, unless he pays attention.
What it—? he starts to wonder, but stops that thought in its tracks. Instead, he thinks about the soft skin of Subaru’s hands.
There's a clatter, the sound of someone swearing under their breath, and Seishirou knows it's Hokuto before the door even swings open.
“Oh, you're here,” she says, shrugging off the strap of her bag and letting everything fall to the floor.
“Of course,” Seishirou says, reaching out to brush a stray flake from the shoulder of her jacket. It's a pale pink, almost white, and reminds him of the cherry tree. “Did you run into Subaru on your way?”
“Subaru?” Hokuto asks. “Yeah. Why?” She's busy prying feet out of her heavy boots, and doesn't look up. Seishirou balances the flake of paint on the top of his finger before taking a breath and blowing it into the room.
“No reason,” he says, and watches the paint blossom twirl away.
At ease, Seishirou tells the Russian Blue in the window. She rumbles a warning, but doesn't otherwise complain, preoccupied by the cityscape.
“Have you see Subaru?” Seishirou asks, but the cat ignores him, eyes tracking the motion of the vehicles streaming along the skyways. He sighs, resting his chin on a hand. Across the view, billboards change their messages faster than he can absorb their contents, unless he pays attention.
What it—? he starts to wonder, but stops that thought in its tracks. Instead, he thinks about the soft skin of Subaru’s hands.
There's a clatter, the sound of someone swearing under their breath, and Seishirou knows it's Hokuto before the door even swings open.
“Oh, you're here,” she says, shrugging off the strap of her bag and letting everything fall to the floor.
“Of course,” Seishirou says, reaching out to brush a stray flake from the shoulder of her jacket. It's a pale pink, almost white, and reminds him of the cherry tree. “Did you run into Subaru on your way?”
“Subaru?” Hokuto asks. “Yeah. Why?” She's busy prying feet out of her heavy boots, and doesn't look up. Seishirou balances the flake of paint on the top of his finger before taking a breath and blowing it into the room.
“No reason,” he says, and watches the paint blossom twirl away.
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