so imagine maki and saihara snuggling? thanks
the first time, it was hard. it was hard to be held. to be contained. his arms were the bars of her prison, the arms of her attacker, the rope of her noose. they strangled her, flesh burned where it should have pined —– why. why was a war torn girl so hard to touch ? why was it so hard to let herself become weak, even if only for these seven minutes in heaven ?
the second time, it was easier. her arms surround him in a warm embrace, and she is nervous. her heart beats from her chest at a pace he can surely hear, and her grip is feather - light, as if he were being held by a ghost. —– this fear, it doesn’t leave her &. it never will. she freezes up when he touches her, not because she hates him but because of this fear. this fear that possesses her body and clenches her heart, gnawing at it with talons and fangs.
‘ shuichi. ‘ she uses his first name. ‘ i’m scared. ‘
carekill-a posted this
