#// satoru who only wanted to make sunflower salad now with his nips on display

[b0kksu-gone]

                      @kuidaorc     :        [ WET ] + [ STRADDLE ] + [ STARE ] // @kuidaorc ;3c

         The tall branches of sunflowers, fields of gold that he was eager to become lost in. Fertile soil, he remembers it in youth, hiding from the world that wished to keep him caged. Each kiss from the light burns against the balmy skin, pale with thin blue veins, the blunt knife hits against each stock placed carefully in the woven basket. Tea, seeds to be eaten, he would strip them apart as gifts for others; the benevolence of a kind God. Rainfall soon catches him, the presence of one who used to be his other half, “Escaping again?” callous, the remark falls as his haori sticks to his frame. Robes that are slightly skewed open, crimson flesh tattered && frayed, devilishly he wishes to sneer with a dagger like tongue. Where did it begin? Bickering that led into shouting, the sound of their skulls knocking together, blood that is thick on the teeth as he wishes to spit it outwards. Satoru wanted to scream, snarl, the tendrils of black tickle his skin as he moves to maneuver himself on top yet finds it futile. Broader, thicker, the thought sends his head into a spin; even the taste is despicable but isn’t this their fate? To see death by the other’s hands. A fire crackling where thumbs pressed into his windpipe, somehow, the end isn’t scary by the one he loved the most. Ire grows thick within his belly, the land has only known peace, now, this torment threatens to consume them whole, poisoning the soil.

    “Get off” bandages that were torn from his vision, he reached to conceal his eyes, lesser men knew better than to catch his gazes - oculars that vibrated burning deep as if to warn, the soul would become corrupt. Bird bones that thrash, heavy kicks that must sting, even the white of his underrobe has become dirtied in a mixture of their bile.  I love you, he remembered the first time it found its way out of his mouth, awkward && fumbling, I love you - I should have killed you the first time. Soft locks, cradled in a touch he would sink into, feast upon until there was nothing left, his body shudders believing it to be the cold seeping into the bone. Though, a child born at the highest mountain point, where the snow never vanished would never know the cruelty of such frost, it was that wretched heartbeat within his chest.

      The suppleness of his small pout, a mouth that glowed red, torn skin on the bottom tier, teeth that flash as if to warn he would rip out Suguru’s jugular if given the chance. Once more his form bucks, heat dispersing from the pit of his gut, feral as it is carnivorous. This could end quickly, in a gust of removing himself from mortal touch but the sting that is left behind feels like a scorching flame, he laughs, cackles madly. “Coward, do something” the mocking God echoes, then in a nasty sneer, his lips curl upwards.

        “That’s right, you’re too pious, too revered as a benevolent guide to touch me” a fistful of black, shaken as he moves to sit on his elbows, snickering as he lets go. Anything that was broken would begin to heal itself, the sharp snap of bones somehow would make it more bearable, or lest he believe it to be. The swipe of a thumb, it leaves him to ache, anything to escape the sensation of being gutted alive. “Is this your plan? To take me in front of a patch of sunflowers? Wow, you’re horrible at romance. Desecrating this land with your own selfish desires, if only you were braver, less full of yourself to actually do it” suddenly, a long leg jots out. Moving to roll on his side, ivory hair is slicked back, stained with dirt && coated in a mess of red. They’re both equally pathetic, dragging the other into the deepest pits of hell, with a spat blood seeping inwards as he tries to stand.

     “Pervert, age has made you worse, suffer in this rain or find refuge back in the cabin with me - the choice yours”