( there’s something to be said about both. though, considering kazuya is a little more uncertain about the more extreme types of things, it’s probably for the best. makoto certainly hadn’t exercised such patience and pacing—his own blood hadn’t even been dry on the contract he’d signed with J before he’d torn the demon in half. sometimes he thinks maybe it would have been better if he did try to restrain himself. he didn’t remember all that much from that first day, or the first two. it had all been one fevered haze—a lurid smear of light and color, the actualization of a baseborn taboo desire he’d thought he’d die before he ever got to satisfy. but still… he wouldn’t change that he’d done it. only how he’d done it.
here and now, however, he eats methodically; his manners are sharp and clean, finely-practiced, but perhaps a little clipped at the edges. he also gets the sense he will probably eat the majority of the meal, but that’s fine. he leaves half the yakitori to kazuya, splitting the okonomiyaki down the middle with a deft slice of his chopsticks before claiming one half for himself. the gyudon remains on the table between them, perfectly easy to pick from.
perhaps makoto is lucky he has raised his cup of tea to drink from when kazuya presents his questions. it helps mask the half-wince of his expression. it… tended to be conversations like that which turned well-meaning kids away from him. it’s not as though he’d always been avoided in school. there had been some kids who had tried, who had extended an olive branch in friendship and at least done their due diligence. but it just never seemed to take very long in the “getting to know you” process for them to realize that something was… off about him. then they started to observe their distance, wholesome intentions stymied.
he would almost rather talk about larger, thornier, potentially mood-ruining topics. at least they were things he really felt he had an opinion on. but… he’ll try.)
Okay. We can do that. Um… Favorite color—probably red. ( probably for normal reasons. (: anyways. ) Favorite animal… how about you go first?
( as he takes another bite of gyudon, wondering if he needs to lie. )
no subject
( there’s something to be said about both. though, considering kazuya is a little more uncertain about the more extreme types of things, it’s probably for the best. makoto certainly hadn’t exercised such patience and pacing—his own blood hadn’t even been dry on the contract he’d signed with J before he’d torn the demon in half. sometimes he thinks maybe it would have been better if he did try to restrain himself. he didn’t remember all that much from that first day, or the first two. it had all been one fevered haze—a lurid smear of light and color, the actualization of a baseborn taboo desire he’d thought he’d die before he ever got to satisfy. but still… he wouldn’t change that he’d done it. only how he’d done it.
here and now, however, he eats methodically; his manners are sharp and clean, finely-practiced, but perhaps a little clipped at the edges. he also gets the sense he will probably eat the majority of the meal, but that’s fine. he leaves half the yakitori to kazuya, splitting the okonomiyaki down the middle with a deft slice of his chopsticks before claiming one half for himself. the gyudon remains on the table between them, perfectly easy to pick from.
perhaps makoto is lucky he has raised his cup of tea to drink from when kazuya presents his questions. it helps mask the half-wince of his expression. it… tended to be conversations like that which turned well-meaning kids away from him. it’s not as though he’d always been avoided in school. there had been some kids who had tried, who had extended an olive branch in friendship and at least done their due diligence. but it just never seemed to take very long in the “getting to know you” process for them to realize that something was… off about him. then they started to observe their distance, wholesome intentions stymied.
he would almost rather talk about larger, thornier, potentially mood-ruining topics. at least they were things he really felt he had an opinion on. but… he’ll try. )
Okay. We can do that. Um… Favorite color—probably red. ( probably for normal reasons. (: anyways. ) Favorite animal… how about you go first?
( as he takes another bite of gyudon, wondering if he needs to lie. )