#since that kinda thing would definitely make him transform FBGFJGKJFG

[dnangelic]

at first , he only stares .

and he stares ... and stares ... and stares ... until finally ---

( he grins . )

' are you suuuure --- ? ' that's what i thought ! or was it : that's exactly what he had hoped for ; jealously wanted to hear ? a mewl like that suited sakura so much more than himself , and even the brusque words chewed out between grit teeth felt complimentary ; sweet music to his ears .

rationality was a thorn in his side whose sharp prick he loathed : there was , in fact , still plenty of sense , if not security for the other in his going ... but he's confirmed all that someone like him could have possibly needed to stay , no matter the trickery and conniving , wheedling out sakura's greedier , far more sincere feelings in between her frantic push and tugs .

defiance , reason , excuses . he would have left without complaint had sakura simply been silent . instead , he stays with his overwhelming conceit cheshire-curling every centimeter of his expression , until he turns his body once more and makes his slow , gradual pace back towards the apartment's interior . the tips of his wings drag themselves along the floor all the way , and with their feathers and instinctive sentiments exposed , he can neither help nor seems to notice their satisfied , giddy flutter .

' --- well , if you're going to cry over me so much , then i guess i don't really have any choice but to stay . '

words in the other's mouth again ! he lays himself down across the length of sakura's sole futon like it were his own , stretching with the sort of languor that only someone effortlessly talented in claiming others' things for themselves could have possibly mustered . his laughter is haughty and punctures even sakura's uproar : what would he know , exactly ?

more than sakura would ever , or have ever liked to realize , surely .

still , he'd keep what he knew a secret , if only for the sake of his other self . ' it's not that difficult to figure out , is it ? i borrowed a uniform , walked around in it once . everyone only had good things to say and free things to give out . it almost even made me consider quit being a thief ! '

lies and more lies . yet his slow , low tone never once picks up its pace in an attempt at convincing the other . nor does sakura's final verbal retreat seem to bother him : with his usual wry grin , he stares the other squarely in the face .

' ... that's a funny thing to say to the person on your bed . ' he even pats the empty space of it , flourishing a palm across in snide , comfortable coax while retracting his wings . ' i didn't think you'd ever be one to care for formality , either --- but fine . what else did you have in mind for yourself ? unless you aren't serious about your name , either ? sa-ku-ra-san ~ ♥ . '

Haruka goes to roll her eyes, she does... But in the process she sees his wings coming out and him moving away, over to the door, and it’s confusing. She’s frozen; half-hearing, half-there, only, because all she can think is What the fuck is he doing?

“F—Fine, be grateful to me, be whatever, but—”

(It makes no sense; nobody she’s ever told to leave has ever actually done that purely because she said to. She’s used to push-back, used to a fight, for one reason or another, not easy acceptance. But now Dark’s just gonna...?)

‘I go, and you let the rest in again, right?’

‘I go...’

“...you’re gonna go?”

And, god, she hates the way her voice comes out all small; like she’s scared of him leaving (because she is, deep down she’s scared of everyone leaving, but he doesn’t need’a go knowing he’s included in that!). Embarrassment for the everything—the reaction, the speed of it, the fact that something she said has lead them here at all—colours her face; she wasn’t, she wasn’t really wanting him to leave, doesn’t he know that?

(Geez. Under her fucking skin, that’s where he gets.)

She grits her teeth.

“You bastard,” Don’t make my guilt be for nothing, “that’s when you choose to take me seriously?” I never meant it to begin with. “I already said that your ass ain’t leavin’, so what the hell’re you doing?”

Does he really think either of them’d be in this position if she really did feel like it was a bigass problem?

(No, this, their shared company, is a selfish one of her wants. It doesn’t matter what feelings come from it, she’s still choosing this. Anyone who managed to find their way into her life, managed to carve out their own paths that weren’t just her beating them to the ground, was subject to this selfishness—she’s at a point where she finally recognizes that, to some degree, if only because people are now wanting to stick around her at all.)

I don’t want you to leave.

(Besides, isn’t he choosing to stay here, too? Even if it’s just out of necessity—whether it be because she was willing and choosing to do it—and just until he finds new things to go and pilfer in some other place...she hasn’t gotten that much wrong, right?)

A tongue clicks to teeth; no matter what, there are things that remain.

“It ain’t like they only see me here anyway, yanno; they’re not you. I see’em at school and durin’ patrols’n shit, they’ll manage to live with not comin’ over here so much.”

It isn’t isolation to her, not really, so—

“I wasn’t bein’ serious, and you don’t...”

(Unless he really does want to leave, but that’s a whole other conversation that ain’t happening now. For now, they’re talkin’ about not doing that.)

“You don’t have to go.”

...where the hell is this conversation going, though? Forget him for a damn second—

“H—How would you even know, anyway?!” And just like that, she’s back to her usual self. “It ain’t like you’ve been around any of’em, so don’t act like you know! Damn you, what’d I say about puttin’ words in my mouth!?”

Because she has and does say thank you, dammit, it’s just...it’s never verbal, or at least hardly is. But people seem to get it. Not everything has to be said, right?

(Speaking of things said, though, all of his words dawn on her, then, and it’s like a whole other dam opens up; she’s gonna have whiplash by the end of this.)

“And don’t you call me by my damn name, either, who d’ya think you are!? We aren’t that close!”

(Even if him bunking here with her is closer than anyone else has gotten before, but that’s different, dammit!)