#❪ ─ literare. … kenji kishimoto.

[warnes]

( ⸺ KENJI KISHIMOTO. i don't like it when you're evasive. 𝗹 @literare

❛ i don't like it when people believe they're for some reason entitled to know personal details about my life. ❜ but figure turns around now facing another male when hand reaches towards own bed and grabs white tshirt to cover exposed torso and scars scattered all over his back. he can only hope kenji won't start asking about tattoos and their meanings. ❛ they are my birthday gifts. ❜ the fabric slips above temples and down across biceps until thorax is covered and now the only thing that irritates brain ( besides kishimoto's presence ) is the touch of his feet on the ground. but figure is wrapped in exhaustion, too tired from previous events to search for socks right now and without noticing body hits the end of his bed with an exhale. emerald gaze finally meet another's features, the look doesn't reveal anything. it's like talking about the most normal daily activities he's involved in every day and in this moment he's grateful for years of training not only his physical reflexes but also his mind.

❛ from my dearest father. and don't you dare pity me or give me a sad look or i will shoot you. ❜

[warnes]

❛ it's a dog. ❜ irritation is audible when he speaks and cold emerald diamonds travel across the room towards the intruder of peace and quiet. he knew what would happen once he unwillingly agreed for kenji to move in right next to their house, but ella was so happy. he would rather suffer in silence every single day until he dies than wipe that kind of pure and genuine exhilaration from her beautiful face. ❛ and i never said our dog is cool. it's not. if anything, it's loud and negligent and extremely intrusive. ❜

for @warnes, aaron warner : starter call.

" my dog is cooler than your dog, "

[warnes]

( ⸺ KENJI KISHIMOTO. i don't have much time to explain, but i'll try. 𝗹 @literare

he doesn't look at another male approaching him, doesn't even flinch when familiar voice hits his conscious and momentarily pulls him out of own mental decay. mind is occupied, stolen from reality by terror that clouds judgement and paralysing fear that slowly kills him from the inside. he doesn't desire to talk to anyone, doesn't desire anyone's company, not until she's safe in his arms again. until then there's no space left for communication of any sort beneath cortex. nerves burn with hunger for her touch, heart bleeds with colors of despair and every time sharp air fills his barely functioning lungs, invisible knife cuts ribs apart. it almost feels like she stole his heartbeat and without her it's impossible to breathe. without her, he's nothing but a shell of painful memories of her presence that keep him up at night.

when he finally speaks, emerald eyes remain locked with the ground and own shoes that rest on the floor. his voice is cold, frozen like the rest of his silhouette and this time he doesn't try to change the tone to appear nicer. he stopped caring the moment ella was forcefully taken away from him despite the efforts to keep her alive. ❛ instead of telling me this, you could have already said whatever it is that you desire to explain. ❜

[warnes]

it's hurricane inside his head so intense and so loud he almost loses own balance standing up from the chair in his office. maybe placing every single storm to designed place of his mind where it belongs could help : erase the screams of torture escaping a young unknown girl because they do not serve you. accept the painful truth that another girl, the one you're closely observing from the distance, might be 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 from never ending misery. forget about childhood best friend and his 𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 because before you left, there was a flicker of hope beneath his eyes. delete father's disappointment — there's a knock that startles his thoughts. ❛ tell kent i will be there shortly. ❜ the answer is meant for delalieu who he anticipates on the other side of the door but when familiar sound of boots against the floor captures his attention, kishimoto is the last person he would have ever expected to walk inside his bedroom uninvited. not that he dislikes his presence entirely, sometimes he manages to make him laugh and sometimes he fills the silence where his own social skills fail, god like features are instead covered in genuine surprise of the unexpected. ❛ what are you doing here ? ❜

( ⸺ KENJI KISHIMOTO 𝗹 @literare

[warnes]

a muscle twitches within jaw and he has to physically clench teeth together in visible i r r i t a t i o n that slowly takes over vulnerable frame like plague. sometimes he has a hard time believing another's audacity : not only he invaded his own personal space ( that perhaps is not his own anymore considering kenji now walks in uninvited every time he feels like disturbing his time alone or worse, his time with juliette ), now he also allows stupid words on the surface, the ones that would be much more beneficial if kept inside. gaze he meets another male with is i n t e n s e, eyes glow with icy green colours that cut through another frame like sharp diamonds. a sigh falls from tongue : one that represents exhaustion and own inner torture so intense it serves as physical pain wrapped in v e x a t i o n knocking above skull. ❛ i was only nice to you because of juliette. ❜ but now she's gone, his darkest secrets exposed and thrown upon her and ɘnoϱ ƨ'ɘʜƨ. away from his touch, her scent far away from his senses, her silhouette ripped away from his barely beating heart and realization alone leaves scars above inner organs so painful his lungs almost collapse by one single thought of losing her. gaze remains locked with kenji's, steel vision connects with low icy tone of his voice and he remains there paralysed, unmoving while tension makes a home beneath skin. ❛ she broke up with me. i see no reason why not turn a threat into an action. ❜

he is met with a heavy roll of eyes. would probably have rolled to the back of his head, if it was humanly possible. never met someone so . . . aaron warner. can't be blamed for being worried. and curious. and honestly, he isn't quite sure what it is, because somehow he hasn't expected the other to have any flaws what so ever. barely seen him with a hair out of place. a little off putting, if he is honest. a muscle twitch in jaw while dark gaze is settled upon him as he pull t - shirt over his head, and for once he keep silent. if only for a moment. if only because warner is talk without more encouragment. or nagging for that matter. keep himself standing a few steps inside the room, not planning on leaving, but doesn't stroll into his personal space either. it's a little freaky, doesn't seem like himself. gaze drift to his back, despite the t - shirt covering up the old scars, he's still seen them. knew they were there. and he shouldn't be surprised he think. his father was . . . cruel. everyone knew that. not a secret to anyone these days just thought it was reserved for, like, not family. that his son would go without it. then, it's a little more warner peaking through, and he can't stop the scoff. " oh, will you shoot me ? you not gonna come up with another threat, 'cause i've heard that one from you, at least like, five times. "