[ Ah. There's an inertia to this conversation, an inevitability that weighs on his shoulders, and he swallows, breaking eye contact, because at his core, he's always been a coward. ]
I-- [ He laughs, but it's not funny. ] You don't have to do... [ He gestures, one-handed. ] that.
[ There's apology written in that bow, and he doesn't like the way it feels. Like 'I tried but couldn't do it, sorry you're not enough', which is unfair-- ]
Did I. [ He looks up, throat tight. His expression is carefully still, tight at the corners, and not really convincing at all (he really needs to figure out where his poker face went, because it's been slipping all over the place). ] Was it something I did?
[ He's afraid to ask, because he doesn't want to hear 'yes', but he has to know. Maybe it's masochism, but it's too late to take that question back. ]
No! [It comes out too quickly, but it's in earnest. He means it.] It's nothing you did! Please don't think that.
[Maybe there's no way to explain it without also talking about what happened on Valentine's Day, but he's going to try. He doesn't want to say something like, "The roses made me fall in love with someone and I realized it's different from how I feel about you."
Instead, holding onto his knees for dear life, Ryouta exposes the fears that have been eating at him for weeks.]
Lately, a lot of people have been disappearing...We'd never be together again if something like that happened to us.
[ 'Please don't think that', huh. He'd said it too quickly to be lying.
It's kind of comforting? Kind of, anyway.
He goes still at the reminder of something he's been trying not to think about, a campaign that hasn't worked very well, not with Nabe's departure less than two weeks ago. Whatever it is that sends them home again is unfair. No mercy, no warning, no nothing. Ryota's right that they'd never be able to find each other again.
There's a part of him that wants to be angry, wants to ask why they're not taking all the time they've got, but he knows why. Better to cut it off before one of them is stuck in the weird not-mourning of waking up to find a name missing from your contact list.
He stares at the coffee table, fingers knotted in his lap. ]
I... yeah. And there's no way to keep that from happening. [ He reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, expression momentarily more somber than it's ever been. This is... not what he wanted to be doing today. ]
I get it. [ He can't say it's okay, or don't worry about it, not when there's but I don't want to sticking in his throat. That childish desire not to separate gets pushed away. He's never broken up with anyone before, not properly, and he's not sure what to say. ] So I guess this is... see you around?
[ Not 'goodbye', this town is too small for that. ]
I guess...that's it. [That's all...that's all it took.
At least, he thinks, now Kazuya is safe from hearing anything else. He doesn't have to know that doves don't live very long, or that Ryouta cannot put him at the top of a list he deserves to be a part of, or...
There are so many things he doesn't have to say now, and he's relieved - selfishly, because as much as it protect Kazuya, it protects him tenfold.
If only the relief would spread to everything else.]
That was so fast... [he murmurs, wondering if time has disordered in some weird way, if this is is like the reverse of an embarrassing moment and everything has sped up incomprehensibly. How silly, right?] Honestly, I feel dizzy...
[Exhaling heavily, he stands...and bows again, ready to bolt.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
I-- [ He laughs, but it's not funny. ] You don't have to do... [ He gestures, one-handed. ] that.
[ There's apology written in that bow, and he doesn't like the way it feels. Like 'I tried but couldn't do it, sorry you're not enough', which is unfair-- ]
Did I. [ He looks up, throat tight. His expression is carefully still, tight at the corners, and not really convincing at all (he really needs to figure out where his poker face went, because it's been slipping all over the place). ] Was it something I did?
[ He's afraid to ask, because he doesn't want to hear 'yes', but he has to know. Maybe it's masochism, but it's too late to take that question back. ]
no subject
[Maybe there's no way to explain it without also talking about what happened on Valentine's Day, but he's going to try. He doesn't want to say something like, "The roses made me fall in love with someone and I realized it's different from how I feel about you."
Instead, holding onto his knees for dear life, Ryouta exposes the fears that have been eating at him for weeks.]
Lately, a lot of people have been disappearing...We'd never be together again if something like that happened to us.
no subject
It's kind of comforting? Kind of, anyway.
He goes still at the reminder of something he's been trying not to think about, a campaign that hasn't worked very well, not with Nabe's departure less than two weeks ago. Whatever it is that sends them home again is unfair. No mercy, no warning, no nothing. Ryota's right that they'd never be able to find each other again.
There's a part of him that wants to be angry, wants to ask why they're not taking all the time they've got, but he knows why. Better to cut it off before one of them is stuck in the weird not-mourning of waking up to find a name missing from your contact list.
He stares at the coffee table, fingers knotted in his lap. ]
I... yeah. And there's no way to keep that from happening. [ He reaches up to rub at the back of his neck, expression momentarily more somber than it's ever been. This is... not what he wanted to be doing today. ]
I get it. [ He can't say it's okay, or don't worry about it, not when there's but I don't want to sticking in his throat. That childish desire not to separate gets pushed away. He's never broken up with anyone before, not properly, and he's not sure what to say. ] So I guess this is... see you around?
[ Not 'goodbye', this town is too small for that. ]
no subject
At least, he thinks, now Kazuya is safe from hearing anything else. He doesn't have to know that doves don't live very long, or that Ryouta cannot put him at the top of a list he deserves to be a part of, or...
There are so many things he doesn't have to say now, and he's relieved - selfishly, because as much as it protect Kazuya, it protects him tenfold.
If only the relief would spread to everything else.]
That was so fast... [he murmurs, wondering if time has disordered in some weird way, if this is is like the reverse of an embarrassing moment and everything has sped up incomprehensibly. How silly, right?] Honestly, I feel dizzy...
[Exhaling heavily, he stands...and bows again, ready to bolt.]
no subject
[ The bow has him shifting on the couch to square up toward Ryota, at least, and he nods, hands flat on his thighs.
He'd offer to walk him out, but he wants to be alone as badly as Ryota wants to run, so he lets him go without anything else, head bent. ]