( he knows, he's heard him say it over and over that komaeda didn't ruin his life, that he made every decision, and rokkun's just someone who accumulates bad luck. even through all of that, seeing him angry, upset, even those days he worked off feelings when he wanted to give and have nothing in return — komaeda had always thought if he didn't pry, if he had done things differently, then maybe. it could be rooted into his way of thinking, maybe it is, that so much that happens around him is his fault, even if he isn't there, lady luck decides to play her hand.
komaeda would equally share the good and the bad with him, that tumultuous whirlwind of their luck must have drawn him in, even if at that moment it was just his good luck at work. if he kept finding him, then there had to be a reason, his will, that drive... his hope.
there were times komaeda would ask if any of rokkun's marks were because of both of them, or mostly him, and he remembers something he said, it echoes in his mind. "you were there for this one, and that one... the one here too... [...] ...physically, at least." so that constitutes to... that? that he watched him die, physically, but what he thought, and how he felt... almost sounds like a short-lived relationship, he's even said he didn't imagine he would live this long. did the komaeda then feel anything, if he didn't, then that was an improvement, and if he did... it's because he's not heartless. that human trait chains him down too, he feels happy, he feels sad, and... it always feels complicated.
yet, he can't stop himself from cupping the other's face, his thumbs brushing against his cheeks, and his heart aches, or maybe that sickly feeling in his stomach makes him nauseous. he's said it before, if he could have somebody's love then he could die happy. slowly, his fingers push back a bit of black hair, eyes staring right into rokkun's own like he's searching for something. his mouth parts, inhaling, it's hypocritical he believes to be like this... even when the other almost died, komaeda at that moment, didn't want him to go, asking for help... the last thing he'd do, he so used to doing things alone that...
for some reason, he breaks out the norm that he knows for him, only a small step because he doesn't fully cross it. he's nervous, his organic fingers twitch against rokkun's cheek, his prosthetic is completely still, sort of... one finger there twitches too. he's overthinking it, perhaps he's waiting for rokkun to say that he's joking, that he doesn't mean it: this love of theirs. though, he presses their forehead together, the faintest brush of their nose, and maybe he can feel the way komaeda's lips ghost over his own.
with his eyes closed, his voice barely above a whisper, he thinks it over and over — just between them, only for them. )
"Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation."
no subject
komaeda would equally share the good and the bad with him, that tumultuous whirlwind of their luck must have drawn him in, even if at that moment it was just his good luck at work. if he kept finding him, then there had to be a reason, his will, that drive... his hope.
there were times komaeda would ask if any of rokkun's marks were because of both of them, or mostly him, and he remembers something he said, it echoes in his mind. "you were there for this one, and that one... the one here too... [...] ...physically, at least." so that constitutes to... that? that he watched him die, physically, but what he thought, and how he felt... almost sounds like a short-lived relationship, he's even said he didn't imagine he would live this long. did the komaeda then feel anything, if he didn't, then that was an improvement, and if he did... it's because he's not heartless. that human trait chains him down too, he feels happy, he feels sad, and... it always feels complicated.
yet, he can't stop himself from cupping the other's face, his thumbs brushing against his cheeks, and his heart aches, or maybe that sickly feeling in his stomach makes him nauseous. he's said it before, if he could have somebody's love then he could die happy. slowly, his fingers push back a bit of black hair, eyes staring right into rokkun's own like he's searching for something. his mouth parts, inhaling, it's hypocritical he believes to be like this... even when the other almost died, komaeda at that moment, didn't want him to go, asking for help... the last thing he'd do, he so used to doing things alone that...
for some reason, he breaks out the norm that he knows for him, only a small step because he doesn't fully cross it. he's nervous, his organic fingers twitch against rokkun's cheek, his prosthetic is completely still, sort of... one finger there twitches too. he's overthinking it, perhaps he's waiting for rokkun to say that he's joking, that he doesn't mean it: this love of theirs. though, he presses their forehead together, the faintest brush of their nose, and maybe he can feel the way komaeda's lips ghost over his own.
with his eyes closed, his voice barely above a whisper, he thinks it over and over — just between them, only for them. )
"Goodbyes are only for those who love with their eyes. Because for those who love with heart and soul there is no such thing as separation."