swordhardy | NOCT OVERFLOW

[ Quiet drapes in their studio like a white sheet. A cool settle across the daemon's flesh, all cotton and light, breathable despite its encompassing fold. Inhale, exhale—Rokurou breathes softly, eyelids lowered with ease as the tips of Six's fingers trace along the jagged terrain of his blight. An unassuming brush that doesn't have any other meaning than the desire to be close; it's easy, it's comfortable, and Rokurou finds himself unfurling into its lull.

They've been serene for a while now, with no desperate need to fill the silence with hollow words. Existing around Six without the need to engage is something Rokurou's grown into, over time, finally settling into a rhythm that doesn't ask for effort. It doesn't ask for anything. No expectation, no hidden intentions—only the effortless desire to be near one another.

A soft hum tickles his lips as he reaches up, idly, to brush his curled index and middle fingers against the soft inside of Six's wrist. Not meant to deter him from touching along the black carapce that marks the right half of his face, it lingers there, a ghost of nails along the obscured blue of the erune's veins. ]

You know...

[ Voice soft, it trails as he blinks slowly, turning his face to offer more of the cragged black that dips along his jaw and over his right ear. ]

... I didn't always have this. Did I ever tell you how it happened?

[ Despite the question, he knows he hadn't. It isn't something that comes up often, his past not so much guarded as a thing he's tried to leave behind. To no avail, in the end: he's always haunted by its phantoms, thoughts falling to years past even when he considers himself to be a different person. Fundamentals never really do fade, no matter how much you try to excuse yourself out of them.

Hah. Maybe realizing that means he's somehow managed to grow as a person, despite having been stunted the day this black cracked out from bleeding wounds and deep despair. Or maybe that, too, was because of him. ]

[ the silence is a comforting veil, something so intimate yet simple all the same. it's strange to think about just how far they've come.

after all, this kind of intimacy between the two of them has always seemed so unattainable, especially given how six saw himself as undeserving of rokurou's affection. he always found excuses to shy away from the daemon's attempts to close the gap between them, but nowadays he's growing more and more confident with initiating such attempts on his own. right here and now happens to one of them — one of plenty, he reiterates quietly. he wants to try his best to show this person just how much he appreciates just simply being around him.

the jagged black of daemonic blight has always been one of his favourites, a feature of rokurou that made him seem more human than anything else, despite what it's supposed to represent. he has always wondered how and why the rough texture came to be a permanent thing, but figured there will come a time and place where the other man will feel comfortable enough to share the answers.

tonight appears to be the day.

his fingers pause in what they're doing, lavender eyes gazing curiously right into mismatched ones. he rarely wears his mask when he's at home in their little studio so he practically reads like an open book: someone who desperately wants to know the story behind the blight he's been so fascinated by, and yet doesn't want to push for more if rokurou won't share it all.

still, this is what he has to say: ]

... No, you haven't. I've always wanted to know but wanted to wait for you to tell me.

[ after all, rokurou knows everything there is to know about him. isn't it only fair to learn more about the daemon too? that's what he thought at first, but he's always been bad at asking for what he wants.

he doesn't say as much, instead trailing his fingers down that offered jaw, lightly tracing how deep it goes. ]

You've always wanted to know? [ a low chuckle rubs in his throat as his lips twitch up. ] I should have brought it up sooner.

[ Their eyes meet. It's funny—Rokurou has never been a romantic kind of guy, yet he really thinks that he would be content to study the lavender hue of Six's eyes for hours. That same warm, honeyed feeling of affection rolls off of him in waves as he stares, their Synchrony a strong open channel that leaves no secrets.

The daemon closes his eyes on another soft inhale and exhale. Even Six's scent .... vaguely floral, fresh, clean. So familiar that it's become a source of comfort, an aroma that he's come to associate with that syrupy, fuzzy feeling. He hasn't realized the word for what it is, only that it makes the erune as special. One of the few people that he selfishly wants to keep, despite knowing how everything is fleeting. ]

It isn't a nice story ... but I think you already know that much.

[ Intimacy is difficult—but because Six is someone important, Rokurou wants to try. For him, for them. For what they have, even if so much of it has been left unspoken. ]

But you have to promise me you'll still like me when I'm done.

[ That comes another another soft laugh as he rests his hand against Six's thigh. ]

[ the erune wants to tell rokurou that it hardly matters how long it took him to bring it up. after all, it's also six's fault for not asking sooner, for wanting to wait until the daemon felt comfortable enough to breach the topic himself. he knows how hard it is to open one's self to others, to leave the deepest and darkest parts of you exposed to someone else's scrutiny. it's a vulnerable position to be in, and one he would never fault rokurou for avoiding as much as he had.

if he had been left to his own devices, he would have never let anyone in, and perhaps he'd still be as lonely as he was once many years ago. thankfully, that's no longer the case anymore, he understands this most of all. ]

You accepted me even though I'm a murderer. Who am I to deny you of that?

[ it's not quite a direct way of saying yes, i'll still like you, but it's close enough given who he is. if rokurou still feels doubt, he'll wrap his fingers around the daemon's hand, bringing it closer to his lips just to plant soft kisses along the back of his palm.

he leaves unspoken promises in each and every one, hoping it'll be enough. ]

I'm here to stay, no matter what I learn about you today.

I wouldn't let you go anyway.

[ Fingers curling, brushes them against the soft curve of Six's mouth. With his eyes closed touch feels more intense, every light kiss pressed against his knuckles sending a shot of whiskey warmth through his body. ]

I had five older brothers growing up, but most of them died when I was still young. [ his story starts slow; he isn't sure where to find his footing in this, how much he really wants to tell, how much he wants to even recall himself in the comfort of the erune's embrace. ] My dad, too. Didn't really know him either. When I was young, it was my eldest brother and my mother.

Ichirou—he was strong. Strong enough to kill our mother and take the title of Shigure. [ he huffs, ] Aah, that should tell you what my clan was like. It was tradition to kill the old head in order to become the new head. She killed my grandfather to take it herself.

[ The memories are so damn vivid in spite of himself. For so long, he had clutched onto the title of daemon because it made it easy to separate himself from it all... most of all, his own failures. ]

Ichirou—Shigure, he was mostly Shigure to me, he was the strongest. A genius fighter—he could learn in ten minutes what took me months. [ the laugh he gives now is wry, admitting something difficult, ] I was jealous. Really jealous. I wanted to be like him but I never could. No matter how much I trained. And he was... I wanted him to see me, but it always felt like he was out of my reach. For years it was like that—he'd beat me every single day for ten years. I counted all of my losses.

[ The words are difficult, so he pauses. Remembers the weight of all those thrashings, recalls how the scars scattered across his body had been printed in. Most of all, admitting that old vile churn that becoming a daemon snuffed out well is still hard—but when he was human, he never could have said it. ]

Pretty lame, huh?

[ it shouldn't come as a surprise that six can find similarities in the way they grew up — like attracts like, as the saying goes, but he didn't think the similarities would run so deep. the differences lie in how they both handled the deck of cards given to them, and yet it's obvious neither one handled it all that well. he falls silent as he listens, curling his fingers around rokurou's hand, lightly caressing his skin in a small gesture to tell him that he's still here.

there's more to this story, or else rokurou wouldn't ask him to stay after he's done recounting the tale. ]

I wouldn't call it lame...

[ a beat passes, mostly as he tries to figure out what to say. ]

However, it makes sense to me now why you're so obsessed with fighting.

[ jealousy is an ugly thing. a feeling even someone like him can relate to. after all, he's experienced it when he was much younger, but he was more so the target rather than someone who suffered from it. he still struggled against its presence, had to be locked away from the rest of the clan because they were envious and terrified of how powerful he was...

he can only imagine what rokurou must have felt like, constantly comparing himself to someone he can never reach.

he brings comfort by way of pulling the daemon closer to him, before encouraging him to go on. ]

What happened next?

The scarlet night. That's the most important thing.

[ It's not like he needs comfort. A Rangetsu doesn't know much of the thought, having grown up knowing that their duty was to serve. Their lord, their people, others as per their moral code. Yet he finds himself leaning into the touch Six offers and finding something warm in it. He could go on without it, but with it, it makes the words a little easier to admit. ]

Where I'm from daemons lurk in dark ruins and woods, attacking humans and spiris. They're mindless and brutal—most of them, anyway. The common ones. But every three years there's a scarlet night... that's when new daemons are born, and they overflow the lands. Everyone knows it's a night to hunker down on and hope your family's spared the slaughter.

Not for us. We used to hunt daemons and kill them for trying to come onto our lands—and it's also the night that I took action to execute Shigure. Rumor had gotten around that he was planning a coup, and the lord I served commanded that I execute him for treason.

I tried to slow him down by using the daemons coming in ... and our own men. All of them died. It didn't matter what I did; I was exhausted by the end of our fight, and he hadn't even broken a sweat.

[ There's more, so much more, but his lips thin on these memories. How he cried. How his brother wasn't even looking at him, even then, eyes set on some faraway thing instead of the brother in front of him. The blood rain, the red moon, the horror of it all.

But Synchrony leaves little hidden. The sick feelings still permeate through him, a faint phantom of what he felt back then. Muted, dull, killed over and over by the loss of humanity, but not quite gone. Humiliation, despair, desperation, jealousy, and deep shame. Bitter embroilment that he's able to shrug off quite easily now, but back then? It was truly rock bottom.

Those words: Get stronger, little brother. The broken sword. The cold realization that his brother was so beyond him and that he had been the biggest fool of all. ]

.... A lot happened, but the gist is that he got away. I failed. I was arrested for failing to obey my lord's command and was sent to Titania—a prison for only the worst criminals and daemons, set out at sea.

[ Biting the inside of his mouth, Rokurou lets out another sigh. ]

Before you try to say I was just doing my job ... those rumors. I started them. I wanted an excuse to defame and fight him with an advantage. [ his laugh is raspier now, hoarser with the weight of that, ] That was a secret for a long time.

[ So he won't say that he didn't deserve what he got—that's something he can accept now, even if sharing that part isn't easy. It's something he hid from his companions back home for a long time, too, finally admitting the truth of his deceit upon his brother's death. ]

[ comfort is also something that six could do without. it has always been difficult to seek it for himself, so offering it to others is an even more daunting task. he'd fully expected rokurou to shy away from his touch and he wouldn't have questioned it, understanding that something like this is hard enough to admit without accepting someone's help. when rokurou leans into his touch, the shock on his face is genuine — but it only lasts for a split-second before he completely engulfs the daemon in his embrace.

he remains silent as rokurou continues to recall his story, all the little bits that happened, the lonely moments in between. synchrony makes it easier for him to digest what the other is feeling, but it could have never prepared him for how muted they all would be. is this what rokurou meant when he claimed he was more a monster than human? the realization comes to him slowly, and then it's followed by a moment of clarity.

he gets it— he understands why things unfolded the way it did.

synchrony makes it known that there is no judgment when rokurou reaches the end, only an overpowering desire to offer the daemon solace, no matter how unhelpful it might turn out to be. he presses soft kisses along the parts of him he can reach: right on his forehead, right by the spot where his blight and tanned skin meet, right above where he left a scar in the shape of his name. if rokurou still had doubts that six will want to leave now that he knows the truth, then he can only hope this manages to dispel all of his worries. ]

... You told me before, that you had done a lot of things you didn't regret. That you would do them all again if given the chance.

Is that still true?

[ not that he'll wait for an answer, because he keeps going— presses another kiss where craggled black and the strokes that make up xing blend in. ]

If it is, then I don't think any less of you. [ six still likes him all the same. ] Thank you for sharing this with me.

[ he knows it couldn't have been easy, but that's why he appreciates the fact that rokurou tried. ]

[ How confusing for his confession to be met with acceptance. And Synchrony proves that it is acceptance—he senses no hesitation or lies in Six's actions. Strange, so strange, especially when it's true enough that he wouldn't go back and change things if he had a chance to; life has unfolded this way for a reason, and they're decisions that he feels he must stand by even though he now can acknowledge that they weren't right. ]

It's still true. [ he nods while pressing his forehead against Six's shoulder, relishing the meet of the erune's lips to his skin. ] I wouldn't change it and I won't regret it, but I have reflected on it. Funny thing is, Shigure knew about it all along. He forgave me before he died—he really was better than me in every way.

[ That he admits with a huff, brow furrowed as those final memories flood in. Of his brother on his back, telling him to smile, waving off the confession before Rokurou could fully tell him about what he had done because he had always known. Comforting him by saying he planned to leave the clan anyway. ]

.... but after that, I was ashamed. I wasn't even worth killing to him, [ though hindsight now tells him, perhaps it was just because his brother never liked killing? ] and he left me alive. I seriously thought about ending my own life ... all I felt was shame and despair. I didn't want to feel anything anymore.

[ Tilting his head, he rests his temple against Six's shoulder. ]

A human becomes a daemon when there is too much malevolence in their heart. I guess I reached my limit—because this broke out from the wound he left across my forehead and cheek. [ finally, he glances up so their eyes meet, ] Most daemons lose their sense of reason; that's why most go wild and attack people. I didn't. I lost my humanity, sure, but not my sense of self. What left were most of my ... emotions. I don't feel quite as vividly as I used to, not even close. It almost feels like I'm not the same man.

[ Finally, his mouth quirks with a half-smile. ]

Not totally different, but I like to think I'm less of an asshole.

[ when rokurou settles against his shoulder, six simply lets him, allowing him to lean against the erune without all the fuss. their proximity doesn't stop him from sneaking another kiss, planting it on the first thing he can reach, right on top of inky black hair. this is the part that six always struggles with the most, because finding the right words to say will always be difficult for him.

he always feels as though he doesn't have the right to say anything at all when he's not even sure he would have done the same thing, but... somehow rokurou finds a way to give him an opening.

he snorts softly, resisting the urge to elbow the guy. ]

Are you? I would say you're about the same.

[ the look on his face is so serious that it's probably hard to tell he's joking.

he wonders if this is the right approach, if he should try to say some words of encouragement, but maybe it's enough that he's here to stay. he trusts the other man to be fully committed to his choices, regardless of whether or not they're the wrong ones. just as he said, he doesn't like rokurou any less than he did before he learned about everything. if anything, he feels much closer to rokurou now that he knows, as though the last remaining walls between them have been knocked over. ]

... But as long as you don't regret anything, then that's more than enough for me. If you had made different choices, we wouldn't have met in the end, and I already know what it's like to move on without you.

[ it's not something he succeeded at, nor is he eager to go through that again. ]

[ For a second the daemon looks surprised—and then he laughs. A genuine belly laugh, one that ushers out the somber touch to his mood as swiftly as it came. ]

Aah, maybe I really am the same. [ the next exhale takes the weight that had settled on his chest with it, ] But that's what I think, too. There's so much that could be different and I wouldn't want to change it, so I'll leave the past where it is.

[ Drawing up, he catches Six's chin and drawns in to press their mouths together in a firm kiss. He doesn't try to make it dirty—it's affection, but it's a different kind from the sort that drives lust. Softer, gentler, something easily conveyed in a simple meeting of lips. When it reaches its natural end the daemon doesn't stray too far away, letting their lips brush as he speaks. ]

That's not even going into all of the torture, killing, arson, and theft that went into getting revenge once I broke out of prison. Buuuuut I'll save those stories for another day.

[ Cheerfully said, as though he hasn't just admitted to even more crimes that are, in theory, worse than lying about a coup. Only a monster could tell their lover something like that with a smile, ahh? ]

As for this blight ... I think I'm handsome even with it.

[ the laughter completely disarms him, ruining the somber mood he'd been in before. it does draw him in just as easily, but he's grown used to how rokurou does this so effortlessly around him, dragging him along for whatever he's in the mood for. a smile blooms across his lips, genuine and strong enough to stay even as he's pulled in for a kiss.

he returns the kiss with just as much affection, not wanting to hold back anymore despite his inherent shyness. he'd like to think he's getting better at it at least... ]

Only you would admit to committing those crimes as though they were mundane tasks.

[ another soft snort, followed quickly by a sigh.

he wouldn't have this incorrigible daemon any other way — dumb arrogance and all. ]

You know... if you didn't have the blight, I likely wouldn't have even looked at you twice.

Really?

[ The daemon swipes his index finger and thumb beneath the jut of his bottom lip, giving Six a playfully scrutinizing look-over. Memory of their first meeting bubbles—how there had been mutual studying. His eyes had been drawn to the mask the erune had worn, a startlingly close mimicry to the blight that mottles half his face, right down to the red hue of eye. Between that strange commonality, as tenuous as it was, and the fact that Six had managed to dispatch a handful of thugs with ease? Stalking him for a fight had been no question.

It's intriguing to learn that their initial attraction point had been the same. Even so, his mouth cocks in easy jest. ]

So that was your taste even before you met me, huh ... interesting. Now I really can't regret any of it. [ as if this is the face of a man who even contemplated having regrets, ] I think I was pretty handsome before ... but I like who I am now. This mark ending up as a charm point is an unexpected bonus.

[ Leaning back onto his palms, the smile eases as his eyes fall toward the window. Looking at it and the light that fades through but not really seeing it. ]

It was always complicated between him and I. Even now, he's never far from my thoughts.

[ every touch rokurou makes is capable of setting his skin alight, leading to his eyes fluttering shut. it's true that it's the blight that lured him in, that made him curious about who this daemon truly is, but it's rokurou's constant presence that made him stay. this is something he remembers promising rokurou when he caught them standing by his lonesome on the bridge, and one that he intends to keep for as long as he's alive. ]

Your ego is truly fascinating sometimes.

[ a throwaway comment that doesn't really need a follow up. his eyes flicker open once more as he follows rokurou's gaze towards the window. he has no idea if there's anything in particular that the daemon is looking at, but it doesn't really matter, he supposes. ]

... Do you miss him?

[ it sounds like rokurou does. ]

Miss him?

[ Words parroted back, only when the daemon says it, they're almost incredulous. Almost—because there's a hint of uncertainty in there as well. It feels like such a foreign concept—one he hadn't even considered naming the strange static in his chest whenever he thinks of his brother.

It's that which keeps him from answering no out of pure contrary instinct. Miss him... it's difficult to say. He fought for so long to kill him, and it had been the best damn fight he ever had in the end. The listlessness that's replaced that old fire to best Shigure has never quite gone away, even after a friend consoled him with the thought that someday, someone else might come to kill him as he once strove to kill Shigure.

There are thoughts he has, sometimes. In the quiet of night when he's alone, when he tastes something sweet that isn't quite to his own taste, when he sees a white cat strolling by. ]

... I don't know. [ he admits that slowly, uneasy with the prospect that he isn't actually completely fine with Shigure being gone. ] Am I even allowed to? I'm the one that killed him.

[ —as he said, complicated. ]

Of course you're allowed to. He's your brother.

[ this is something that has always haunted six long after the massacre of his clan by his own doing. it didn't matter how much they hated him in the end; he always mourned for the lives he stole that day, always missed his own father despite the man being directly responsible for what had transpired. it's difficult to explain why he does, only that he does and that's all that really matters. ]

Blood will always be thicker, after all.

[ or so the saying goes... ]

Regardless, I don't think it's a bad thing, but I understand now why you called your relationship towards him as... complicated.

[ Six's easy acceptance is a relief—something the daemon only realizes after most of it is out. There are details he's omitted, ones he might never tell, too shameful too dark too humiliating too vulnerable ... but what he's done now is a steady step forward. Acknowledging facets of his past he hadn't before, accepting accountability, small things he wouldn't have done a few years ago.

He would have survived if the erune had hated him for being the villain of his own backstory, but it would have been ... disappointing. Once he's decided on wanting something, Rokurou always finds it so difficult to let it go.

Even if the obscuring shroud over missing his brother had been a peaceful one. Not putting the feeling together with a proper name had almost been kinder. ]

I guess with the way things are, he could show up here. Unlikely ... but not impossible. I've heard stories of the dead walking. [ he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. ] I'm not sure what I'd say to him if he did.

[ six recognizes the look in rokurou's eyes — a faraway expression that glazes over those golden hues. he waits for the daemon to finish talking before he guides him to look back, lavender eyes meeting gold once more. his own expression softens as he leans in for another kiss, but this one is just as soft as the first one, maybe a little bit more reassuring.

when he pulls away, he rests their heads together and barely moves an inch. ]

If he comes here, I'm sure you'll find the words to say. And I'm here to support you if you need it.

[ it took him the longest time to figure out how to express his feelings towards nehan, so he understands the predicament. he doesn't know if he'll be the best one to offer help, but he gives it nonetheless, and it's up to rokurou to decide whether or not he'll take it. ]

Hah. You're really cute, you know?

[ Arms stretching with a groan, he drops them forward in greedy hook around Six's waist to drag him innnnnn. Once he's close enough, the daemon flips them over in bed, dragging the erune beneath him with the billowing puff of sheets. Gathering them to spin and swaddle Six inside, until only his face is peeking out from the cocoon.

A face he gives a big smooch. ]

Even cuter like this.

[ it's rare that six is caught off guard by a sneaky move like this, but rokurou manages to pull a fast one on him, so before he knows it, the smooch is stolen and he is surrounded by sheets. ]

Wha—?!

[ excuse him while he tries to struggle, but it is hopeless. he is now a cocoon under rokurou's mercy. ]

What did you do that for...?

[ nevermind calling him cute, because no. ]

I don't know. You were being cute, so I couldn't help myself.

[ Smile crooking his lips, the daemon gazes down with eyebrows slightly pressed in and mismatched eyes lidded. An expression both affectionate and incredulous; he doesn't know how they've managed to get to this point, or how he could have been lucky enough to somehow earn the erune's loyalty, but... it doesn't feel bad. It doesn't feel bad at all. ]

Hey. [ a scarred palm rests against Six's cheek, ] Thank you. For being my friend, and for being ... you.

[ He might not fully understand how he feels about Six outside of wanting him to stay, but he does understand that they share an intimacy not easily found. He's only felt this way about one other person outside of his family—and what he feels toward his family hardly counts, too muddled with troubled complexities.

Around Six, opening up a little about some of his (many) flaws isn't so hard. Support isn't something he's ever needed, but strangely enough, those words solidify something inside of himself—another step toward overcoming them. ]

[ everything was going well— at least, that's how six felt. rokurou opened up to him by sharing a piece of himself that the erune never knew about before, and just for that, he feels so much closer to the daemon than he did a while ago. he would have been satisfied to leave things as they are, especially now that he's swaddled in between sheets and rokurou's arms, but then... ]

Friend?

[ when six looks up at him again, the lavender hues of his eyes hold a mixture of emotions: confusion, uncertainty, and a tiny sliver of heartache. has he misunderstood what they're supposed to be all this time? and while he knows he can't fault rokurou for it, because neither of them have bothered to put a name to how they feel towards each other, but this isn't exactly what he... expected. ]

Are we... just friends?

[ his mind thinks back to when rokurou asked him to leave a scar in the shape of his name. was that just supposed to be a sign of their friendship and nothing more—? ]

Huh?

[ If he expected anything, it isn't the way Six looks at him with reproach. Confused, Rokurou sits back, cocking his head with a startled blink. Less so at the question itself than the look in the erune's eye; it unsettles him and pauses his words, leaving him to mull on them for a moment longer than he normally might. ]

I ... [ reaching up, the daemon rubs his palm against the side of his neck, ] What? Do you think I hold hands with and kiss my friends? It's—more than that. But we are also friends, aren't we?

[ Though he's slowly realizing that they haven't established what the more than that even is. Partly because he hasn't wanted to, liking what they have without needing to pin it down. Ask him about swords and knives and battle strategy and he can talk from twelve different angles—this? He's more out of his depth than when he started confessing sins. ]

What do... what do you think we are?

[ Since he doesn't even know where to start, it's easier to toss it back on Six. ]

[ with the question thrown back at him, six has no idea what to say in response to it. it's something he's never put any serious thought into because neither he nor rokurou ever brought it up, content to let things be given that they're both happy with how things are. of course, that leads to issues such as the one they're facing right now.

where neither of them have any idea how to deal with this. ]

If you put it that way, then yes— we're friends.

[ but we're more than that too, aren't we? or so he would have said out loud, if he wasn't an idiot. ]

I thought we're something more...

[ he keeps drifting back to the scar he'd carved out on rokurou's blight, the one where he knows exactly where it is because that's where he's looking at right now. even if it's hidden underneath the daemon's clothes, he knows it's right there. permanent. ]

Eternal.

[ his face turns beet red when he realizes what he just said out loud, head shaking soon after. ]

... Forget I said anything.

Don't say that.

[ Always so quick to brush things under the rug. On instinct, he rubs over that spot straddling his blight that's barely hidden by t-shirt. The mark Six left on him—a still-healing scar, the very definition of eternal. Scars fade, but never really go away. The skin's never the same again. ]

Eternal ...

[ Rokurou mulls on the word, rolling it over his tongue like a new sake. Another thing that feels foreign despite knowing the meaning well—a resonant feeling that tightens in his chest. Which is why his fingers curl, tightening into a fist over that hidden mark. ]

I guess we do feel the same way. [ even if he doesn't know what to call it, ] I've always thought that you're someone that I want to keep. Everything is ephemeral, I've known that since I was young—but I don't want you to be.

[ He sighs, turning his eyes back onto Six. ]

That means something more, doesn't it? I don't have a name for it, but ... I'm not good at this.

NOCT OVERFLOW

sɪx: "I got you, moonlight, you're my starlight"

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