Link: (•˕ •マⳊ
"What happened?" Euijoo asks, voice caught somewhere between a rasp and whisper.
Fuma fights a grimace. He coughs on the inhale, a sour puff of smoke blowing out around him, and even through the charcoal filter, it burns. Not the right way. Not the way it should.
"I wish you wouldn’t ask questions you already know the answer to."
or
Fuma and Euijoo compartmentalize
Link: (•˕ •マⳊ
Euijoo meets Fuma's eyes for as long as he can stand, then looks down at his own lap. He doesn’t really know what he’s asking. But he knows that it’s strange to be asking it: and to be so willing to do whatever it is Fuma answers.
“Mm,” Fuma says, a drawn out note. Then the bottle, placed precariously on the carpet between them. “Does our Euijoo have something he wants to do?”
Or: a drunken mistake, a pair of handcuffs, the way shame bleeds into desire. Euijoo takes his time figuring it all out.
Link: (•˕ •マⳊ
Fuma hisses a breath through his teeth. He doesn't ask how Euijoo knows about him. And from the amount of blood on his bedroom floor, Fuma knows what type of metamorphosis this is.
When Euijoo’s metamorphosis begins, he goes to Fuma.
Link: (•˕ •マⳊ
Euijoo meets Fuma's eyes for as long as he can stand, then looks down at his own lap. He doesn’t really know what he’s asking. But he knows that it’s strange to be asking it: and to be so willing to do whatever it is Fuma answers.
“Mm,” Fuma says, a drawn out note. Then the bottle, placed precariously on the carpet between them. “Does our Euijoo have something he wants to do?”