[ Yoshiki's not expecting anyone else to come swimming up, but as soon as this girl does, it seems perfectly natural for her to be here. She sits right on the riverbed like it's the floor of her own bedroom, and when her gaze meets his, he doesn't think there's a single thing strange about that.
Her eyes are beautiful. They're so beautiful they spill over the rest of her sharp little face and make all of it beautiful with them. Looking at her, he wants to believe the water is as warm as the pricked-heart ache in his chest. ]
I'm sorry.
[ He's not sure for what. For still shivering when he obediently drops his arms, maybe. For intruding on a river that he's thinking of as hers without thinking about why. For the whole mess of him standing here in front of her, like he's got any right.
His own grey, dull eyes are hot and sore, all of a sudden. He drops his head and pushes the heels of his hands against them, the horrible bile of shame rising up his throat. ]
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Her eyes are beautiful. They're so beautiful they spill over the rest of her sharp little face and make all of it beautiful with them. Looking at her, he wants to believe the water is as warm as the pricked-heart ache in his chest. ]
I'm sorry.
[ He's not sure for what. For still shivering when he obediently drops his arms, maybe. For intruding on a river that he's thinking of as hers without thinking about why. For the whole mess of him standing here in front of her, like he's got any right.
His own grey, dull eyes are hot and sore, all of a sudden. He drops his head and pushes the heels of his hands against them, the horrible bile of shame rising up his throat. ]
I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm cold.