#all this while wearing shitty beach shirts i have to laugh (<- copium or whatever)

[darkenforcer]

the mention of attachment holds a profound weight, as if the meaning runs deeper than a simple object on dar's wall.

however, yuri says nothing, he merely gapes at dar'khol as he's drawn back toward the colorful sky-- the man's bashful anticipation evident enough for the both of them. although managing to appear relatively calm, the swordsman faintly registers his own grip tightening reciprocally, subconsciously bracing himself for the display to come.

and it arrives sooner than he'd expected. the recognition in dar'khol's features -- a raw mixture of emotions yuri can't distinguish or name -- shifts his attention toward the explosion of red and blue, staring wide-eyed at the image they paint upon the night sky. once a hasty logo for a nonsensical game, now a representation of so much more beneath its unassuming surface, glittering just for them.

it is silly. the only thing sillier is how thoroughly the sentiment rocks yuri to his core, overwhelms him past the point of coherence and directly into a reddened tailspin.

he buries into dar'khol's shoulder, the extinguished sparkler clattering to the floor as his freed hand comes up to twist at the front of his rival's shirt.

"…can't believe you kept that stupid thing," put it on his wall, too! after he'd left him hanging that same evening…

it's almost comical, looking back on the time since his feelings became clear. he'd wasted so much energy dismissing them, convincing himself that dar saw him as nothing more than a friend to tease -- and that's likely how it was at first -- but the suggestion's unthinkable now. there's no doubt in his mind that a person so earnest, so caring, would only go to such lengths if they truly meant it.

(what'd he even do to deserve the affections of someone like him-- a man who brightens the world around him simply by existing within it?)

he resurfaces, then, his face defined by a tentative, yet genuine fondness. it's a hazy state of being that he's in, dizzy from the waves of warmth beneath his skin, and that which burns within dar'khol, as well.

"funny. i'm stuck with an attachment of my own," he'd waver if he spoke any louder than a rumble. in his lull, the fingers on dar's shirt traveling to the russet brown strands at the nape of his neck, idly tangling through them. "can't imagine why. he's a real piece of work--" (of course he knows 'why', he's painfully aware of all the traits and quirks he'd been missing until recently) "--but i like having him by my side, anyway. can't stop thinking about him when he isn't..."

showing vulnerability, even roundabout, hasn't become any less daunting since their cage match. his gaze has long since shifted downward, stumbling through his attempt to express how he's felt and knowing it'd only worsen with eye contact.

another firework shoots into the air, carrying his soaring heart along with it.

"what i'm saying is, he -- damn it -- you mean a hell of a lot to me, dar." and he hopes the man heard him the first time; yuri doesn't have the strength in him to repeat it.

where, he asks, yet the answer lays not in words, but in the sight dar'khol is left with. dual-toned eyes are already guided to what he can see of a smile; an infectious thing that prolongs his own. of a face framed so perfectly by darkened strands, and a monochrome set of eyes full of such life, splashed with highlighted color from every crackling display lit off into the sky.

many travelers would look towards the stars, seeking out the one that shined the brightest to follow it home -- and he's sure he's found his, in this very moment. he wished to be nowhere else but here.

having yuri's fingers intertwine with his only strengthened that feeling, along with his heightened pulse. briefly, do dar's lips part, words yet to form ghosting along his tongue but, ultimately, being left up in the air. he says nothing, the unspoken message as clear as the vibrant view. where words could not go, actions would speak for him -- his own fingers mirroring his rival's hold, his weight shifted to further lean where they pressed together.

everything felt warm, his chest alight with a persistent rhythm. so much so he almost felt dizzy. if not for yuri speaking up, dar might have let himself melt in the moment, right then and there. yet the others voice worked like an offered rope, pulling him out of his daze.

the light of the sparkler dancing circles in yuri's hand brought dar'khol's attention back to his own, wrist rolling to move the sputtering light through the air, "i find them a cute addition, truth be told. somethin' to do aside from merely waitin'." though they've done more than just that, no matter how small the actions were.

mention of a surprise is what finally has dar'khol's ears springing up, the squeeze to his hand only offering further fuel to the fire spread across his face. he'd almost entirely forgotten about the display he'd purchased. "oh, that --" but his words were met with a sudden boom; brighter than the previous eruption before it. a shape takes to the sky, after it a message, then another display... none of them his. not yet. it has his stomach twisting, slightly, all the same.

"i ain't good with holdin' expectations, don't go pilin' 'em up on me." even if it was his own fault for keeping his mouth shut about it. "it's--" with a quiet grunt dar's averting his gaze, smile having faltered but that softness never leaving him. "... somethin' i end up lookin' at every so often. hard not to, havin' it hung on the wall and all, but..." it's his turn to offer a squeeze, almost as though he's trying to keep yuri from slipping away.

"... i've grown attached to it, silly as it is."

another thunderous boom, the sky alight with color. the miqo'te's gaze pivots towards it, watching the previous display slowly fall and flutter away -- then another follows it, and he feels his heart leap in his throat. of course it was something sentimental, how could it not be? something that was suppose to be nothing -- a throw away gimmick -- had become a cherished reminder of how quickly he tumbled into the string of events that lead to this.

he'd requested it be displayed as best as it could be to his recreation of it, perhaps straightened out better than drawn. brought to life with a signature, blinding red and an equally vibrant blue -- the shades mixing in their display to cast a warming shade of purple across the beach and boardwalk behind.

that same scribbled image of two, particular weapons crossed. an image the warrior had grown so ridiculously fond of.

"...heh. go big or go home, right?"