#♠ ▌┊「IC.」 ❝ ᶦ ᵗʰᶦⁿᵏ ᶦ ᵃᵐ ᵖʳᵒᶜʳᵃˢᵗᶦⁿᵃᵗᶦⁿᵍ ˢᵘᶦᶜᶦᵈᵉ ❞

[lamentis]

               “You could do so much better, you know.” It’s not spoken from the place of someone who’s feeling down on themselves or even trying to garner pity; it’s more like a passing comment made in comfortable silence while he’s too tired to try lifting himself off the couch. His face is half buried in the pillow where he lays face down, not minding the birds that have decided to take a nap on the back of his neck -- in retrospect, he can’t be sure he would’ve even heard his muffled voice. “Than me, I mean. If you saw yourself the way I see you, you’d realize that, too.” / @rationalclover.

[lamentis]

               “We could run away before the light of day.” / @messianfell.   ♪

[lamentis]

               “You know, in this sometimes dark life ... you’re the bright side.” /  @rationalclover. ♪

[lamentis]

               “I hope that you fall in love and it hurts so bad. The only way you can know is if you give it all you have.”  /  @rationalclover.  ♪

[lamentis]

               “  .  .  .  ”

[lamentis]

               “Public service announcement: I love Suumi Kent soooo much, he’s soooo cute!!”

[lamentis]

               “I think I broke my wrist.”

[lamentis]

               “You don’t think Kuma actually cares about you, do you?” Imagine sinking so low he’d show cruelty towards a child; he’s never looked at someone so young and felt so disgusted, but times have changed. It’s hard to remember, at times, that his captor hadn’t destroyed the world entirely on his own. “You’ve seen the people he manipulates and hurts. He’s a liar. And lying is all he’s good for.” / @childrenswar.

[lamentis]

               “Hey, Ken...” His voice isn’t as loud as he wants it to be when he calls out to him -- he finds himself hoping he can hear him over the sound of the television and the two birds singing along to whatever musical he’d turned it to for them. He’s not sure how long he’s spent staring at the ends of his hair with a look of clear dissatisfaction on his face now; he’d meant to just take a shower and lay face down on the couch for a few hours until inevitably passing out, but the longer he looks at himself, the more agitated he starts to become. God... how wrapped up in life had he been that he’d forgotten he’d bought hair dye almost three weeks ago; the blue along his ends had almost completely faded out at this point, making the color completely pastel. It wasn’t going to last another two weeks, maybe not even one.

          What a seemingly ordinary problem considering the life he’d had lately...

     He glances behind him at the bathroom door he’d left open, suddenly glad he’d decided to be completely devoid of ceremony when he’d changed into pajamas for the night -- being clad in nothing but an over-sized t-shirt that was at least five sizes too big and a pair of stupid bunny slippers practically screamed of not only lack of care, but being ready to make a mess everywhere. For once, it’s not like he had work tomorrow, either. “Are you busy doing any work for the rest of the night...? I think I need your help with something...” / @rationalclover.

[lamentis]

RATIONALCLOVER, ♠

        His impulse was to immediately tell him yes, to solemnly face him and say it, but he choked on his own breath when he opened his mouth. Ikkyu wouldn’t believe him if he simply said it like that; otherwise he wouldn’t be asking then… and he wouldn’t have questioned it when his secret was revealed. Yet even without knowing that, he was perfectly aware that that simple statement, as heartfelt as it could be expressed wouldn’t be enough; so there was no doubt in his mind that this couldn’t change that. Still, he wondered right then and there what was there left to do working under those assumptions. If he was to simply show how he felt through actions and their shared sensations: then, was he supposed to stay quiet about them when it came to talking?

That logic felt infinitely flawed to him. Surely he knew that saying it wasn’t enough, but was that really a reason not to say it? He’d been puzzled over that matter before, trying to find a balance, but only now did he have a greater certainty. The fact was that even knowing what the most likely result would be: there was no doubt in his mind that he couldn’t keep those three words to himself. Even if he disregarded him, even if it took all his courage to even get to the point where he could say it just to be shut down… even then it was worth it. He’d learned that already, hadn’t he? He couldn’t shield himself on his pride when it came to the most important person in his life; if he wanted him to trust in his heart, then he had to allow him to break it. Painful as it was… he’d let him.

So, despite what felt like an eternal struggle within himself, it barely took him a minute for his thoughts to calm down enough for him to close his mouth. Taking a deep breath then, he was terribly aware that it was very likely he could feel how nervous he was. And still he turned his body towards him, making the effort to take hold of one of his hands before promptly looking down at their feet. He didn’t need to be told that he was blushing, but he failed to notice that his free hand trembled as it tightly gripped on the fabric of his own shirt. It was only when he finally managed to lift his head up to properly see into his eyes that he made the effort to speak.

“More than anything,” His tone was soft, a sudden calmness washing over his expression, though disregarding the ever-present shaking. “I wish I could make a grandiose confession, but I didn’t prepare in advance…” He smiled. “I really do love you,” It was getting hard to breathe, the nervousness slowly taking hold of his lungs while he struggled to keep eye contact. “I’ll keep saying it,” He paused to breathe deeply once more.“It’s… no matter what, I won’t stop telling you that I love you.” He wondered if he could hear his heartbeat too.

“I’m…” Don’t say that you’re sorry, you idiot. “I’m seriously in love with you.” Shaking his head, he chuckled for a bit; albeit a bit forcefully. “You know it takes me a while to even come to comprehend feelings, including my own… but that only makes me more certain when I finally get to understand.” Would his heart break one more time after he said it? There was really no guarantee, but… he didn’t care. No matter how much it hurt to breathe, he’d keep at it.

“Ikkyu, I love you; more than anything I’ve ever loved…”

               In all honesty, he’s not even sure why he bothered asking. He’s never been at a more confusing crossroads than he’s at now; it’s been bothering him since their secrets were revealed and he’s sure it shows in the way he’s done everything in his power to avoid him the past few days in despite of the emptiness it’s left in him. That feeling isn’t anything new, he’s used to moving through life whilst knowing there’s something missing from it, but this is… Different. He should feel uplifted now that he supposedly knows the truth – he should feel thankful that Sonozaki confirmed his own feelings for him hadn’t been one-sided, but therein lay the problem, didn’t it? Staring at his back with a blank expression, hands pressed firm against the counter he’s leaning against, he can’t help the deeper issue that tugs at his nerves. Does he believe him? And if so, why did SHE have to be the one to tell him? If he did love him, why didn’t he love him enough to let him know? Even when he knew how he felt, why didn’t he… There’s a part of him that realizes how unfair it is to pin that on him – it crosses his mind that there were moments he tried to confess, but they had been so subtle, how would he ever realize it? Using the link to share their feelings, but never being able to voice it.

          Maybe that bothers him even more. Maybe, even if Kent does love him, maybe he doesn’t love him enough.

     He’s so lost in his own mind, he doesn’t notice how long it takes to get a response out of him. Coincidentally, when he seems willing, that’s what gets him to pull out of his own reveries anyways. He can feel nerves in his stomach and they make him cringe due to how familiar that is – before another second passes, his anxiety starts to rise, too, until he has to grip the edge of the counter tightly out of fear he’ll fall over as he turns to face him. Kent grabs his hand and he immediately turns his gaze away – not that he’d been trying to make eye contact, anyways. A decision that turns out to be for the better because he notices him staring right at him before he speaks; unsurprisingly, the sound of his voice makes his body go stiff.

               “…” He’s not sure what he’d been expecting him to say, but apparently it wasn’t that, because hearing him confirm it was almost enough to make him immediately start crying. As it were, he stubbornly presses his lips together, eyes narrowing as he desperately tries to keep himself from crossing that bridge – it leaves his vision blurred, but he doesn’t care. There are so many things he feels right then – it’s too much, to the point he has no idea how to discern one emotion from the other. There’s a part of him that feels so much relief he thinks he could lose his balance just standing there, but there’s hurt too. Hurt, fear, doubt, lack of understanding, concern, disbelief, guilt, love, anger, desire, happiness – everything muddles together. He’s not even sure what parts of it are his anymore. He does spare him a brief glance in which he tries to take in what his expression is, but the smile, the blush, it’s all too much for him and although Kent seems willing to keep eye contact, he isn’t and, ultimately, he looks away again.

          “If you feel that strongly about me, why did she have to force you?” When he finally finds his voice, it sounds hoarse. If his expression doesn’t give away the fact he’s on the verge of tears, that most certainly does. “Why did she have to force you to confess to me if you love me that much? You knew how I felt, you knew how important you were to me and you knew how much I was hurting, but you still didn’t—…” He hates how composed the other is in comparison to him. He feels almost childish in his upset; like he wants to bang his fists on his chest and scream at him until his voice gives out on him. He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what he feels anymore. It’s a jumble, his thoughts are a jumble; everything is making him feel like an anxious mess. “You’ll keep saying it, will you? What if I don’t believe you? Will you keep saying it until I do or will you get sick of talking? Will you keep saying it until I don’t feel alone anymore, until I feel like you’re actually here with me, until I say it back? What’s your limit? Where do you draw the line?”

          He doesn’t want to be cruel. He wants to hold him, he wants to kiss him, he wants to feel victorious that for once he’s finally gotten the love confession he’s always wanted, but now it’s tainted. It feels empty, hollow…

     “You needed time to comprehend your feelings, but even before she outed you, even when you had the chance, you still didn’t tell me first before she made you. You could’ve told me last time we talked instead of hinting at it. I needed to hear it, Ken, and you still couldn’t tell me. While you were taking time trying to figure your feelings out, mine were destroying me. You knew that and you still…” He suddenly yanks his hand out of his and puts distance between them, hand raising to haphazardly run his fingers through his hair. He doesn’t notice that his hands are shaking, or that his entire body is trembling. He does notice that he’s started crying, so he raises his sleep to dab at his eyes and takes in a deep breath that turns into a sniff halfway through. Even still, he gets himself under enough to control to turn and face him again, this time looking at his face. His own expression is angry and hurt, but beneath that, there’s something not unlike desperation. He seriously feels like he’s about to lose it; he feels exactly the same as he did the day they had that conversation – as if he’s about to break. And even though his voice raises, there’s still something inherently soft about his cracking demeanor.

               “Tell me you love me. Look at me and prove you love me; but this time, say it with conviction and confidence, say it like you actually feel it. Don’t half-ass it, don’t bullshit me, stop being meek, stop being quiet, don’t give me excuses, don't even try to apologize, just say it, because I need you to. Tell me like you should’ve told me before she forced you. I deserve that! And you deserve not to have me doubting you, so say it like you mean it!”

[lamentis]

               “What, with all due respect, the absolute fuck.”

@starscasket.

[lamentis]

               “Do you have those people that you’d go anywhere with unconditionally, like they could say ‘let’s go check out that dumpster’ and you’d be like ‘I’m in.’“

@childrenswar.

[lamentis]

               “And when you smile, the whole world stops and stares for a while, because you’re evil and you smiling like that generally doesn’t indicate anything good.”

@kyuubcy.

[lamentis]

               “I just wanna be hot enough to make over-compensating fuckboys with fragile senses of masculinity panic and start questioning their sexual orientation.”

@rationalclover.

[lamentis]

               “Who needs ghosts? Haunt your own house. Wander around your own living room wailing and crying. Knowing you, you’ll make a calling out of it.”

@blancowls.

[lamentis]

               “The fact that sloths aren’t extinct somehow proves that if you go at your own pace and mind your own business, you too can succeed.”

@dereliquit.