[ And there it is. He doesn't move when he catches sight of it, as if Dazai's some prey animal likely to be spooked and run off, just...appreciating that face for a little bit.
Somehow, even though he's sleeping, that tranquility accentuates how tired Dazai looks. It's easy not to notice when he's up being his usual energetic self, but now, especially this close, it's impossible to miss. How often does he get a full night's sleep? How often does he get it in a bed? Sigma knows the type--won't say The Type's name lest he spoil the mood for himself--the type to get so wrapped up in what they're doing they neglect basic self-care and play it off like they're the exception to the rules of human bodies, that they're fine.
Is Dazai fine, though?
As Sigma thinks his thumbs idly move back and forth across their spot on Dazai's back. He would normally be up by now, groggily rolling through his morning routine, but he doesn't want to disturb this potentially rare chance at rest. Who knows when it might happen again? And besides, serene and genuinely without a care in the world is...a good look. On Dazai.
Carefully, oh so very carefully, Sigma brings a hand up to brush a stray lock of hair away from the sleeping Dazai's face. If his fingers happen to linger against a cheek, he doesn't seem to care too much for now. ]
(lately, being fine is far from what he is - even if the concept of being 'fine' has always been foreign to him. his brain doesn't stop, regardless of what kind of interaction he's having - and this place doesn't help it. a thought that has haunting him is the thought of staying here, in this place, where he has no war to fight. as soon as he steps foot at home, it's back to being enemies, almost-friends, wishful thinkings, and he won't remember precious moments like these. the little things that keep his feet going and his soul fueled to face the hopeless pit that is his soul.
a place he attempts to light, and fails. it hurts to have what he wants, and it's so tiring, so dragging.
unlike what sigma thought would happen, dazai doesn't run off like a cornered animal. instead, the corners of his lips turn into a small smile, and his hand grips to the edge of the blanket to hide them underneath.)
[ The first sign of movement brings a flinch out of Sigma, but the tension is quick enough to calm down once he realizes what Dazai's doing. Not leaving, not scolding or looking at him funny, just...adjusting. To stay even longer, it seems.
Which soothes the tension, yes, though maybe not all of Sigma's nerves. The hand at Dazai's cheek moves to rest against an arm instead, politely pretending it wasn't there to begin with. ]
We really should be up.
[ Said with what sounds like no real intent to force the issue. ]
(he felt the caress, but hey, he's not here to embarrass sigma - let him save face and everything. there's a yawn as he presses his forehead against the other's shoulder, a little stretch of his arms downwards like kitten.)
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Somehow, even though he's sleeping, that tranquility accentuates how tired Dazai looks. It's easy not to notice when he's up being his usual energetic self, but now, especially this close, it's impossible to miss. How often does he get a full night's sleep? How often does he get it in a bed? Sigma knows the type--won't say The Type's name lest he spoil the mood for himself--the type to get so wrapped up in what they're doing they neglect basic self-care and play it off like they're the exception to the rules of human bodies, that they're fine.
Is Dazai fine, though?
As Sigma thinks his thumbs idly move back and forth across their spot on Dazai's back. He would normally be up by now, groggily rolling through his morning routine, but he doesn't want to disturb this potentially rare chance at rest. Who knows when it might happen again? And besides, serene and genuinely without a care in the world is...a good look. On Dazai.
Carefully, oh so very carefully, Sigma brings a hand up to brush a stray lock of hair away from the sleeping Dazai's face. If his fingers happen to linger against a cheek, he doesn't seem to care too much for now. ]
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a place he attempts to light, and fails. it hurts to have what he wants, and it's so tiring, so dragging.
unlike what sigma thought would happen, dazai doesn't run off like a cornered animal. instead, the corners of his lips turn into a small smile, and his hand grips to the edge of the blanket to hide them underneath.)
10 more minutes...
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Which soothes the tension, yes, though maybe not all of Sigma's nerves. The hand at Dazai's cheek moves to rest against an arm instead, politely pretending it wasn't there to begin with. ]
We really should be up.
[ Said with what sounds like no real intent to force the issue. ]
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Why?
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Because we need to start the day. Breakfast, hygiene, all that.
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(the toothbrushes and coffee are not going to run away, are they?)
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...Alright, ten minutes. Starting now.
[ Don't mind if he settles back in a little to enjoy this despite the already slightly late start. ]
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(a little yawn as he hides, snuzzling and wrapping arms.)
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Well it's his place at the end of the day, so he would be the one to ask.
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(and a squeeze.)
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For you, maybe. Sometimes I'd appreciate the warning.
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(now think in other context.)
/2
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Honestly.
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(SOME OF US TREAT YOU LIKE A 20 YEAR OLD!!!!)
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[ Fond, even with a layer of huff over it. ]
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Visit whenever you like.
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(HE JUST WANTS TO SEE THE FACE...)
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Has it been ten minutes? It feels like it's been ten minutes.
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( :) )
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