桃 | peach

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~仕始める~

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~仕始める~

Yushiro's paranoia was going to be the absolute death of him. You've had multiple incidents, mainly whenever you had stepped outside, causing him worry.

He was paranoid for a good reason, but he trusted in your self control. You've never attacked a person impulsively, at least not while he knew you. If anything you would cannibalize yourself which was something he had seen you do before while doing restraint exercises in the past.

His throat sunk to his stomach once he remembered your quiet voice over the tempest outside.

"I'm tired of hurting people."

Your face was covered with dirt and mud. He understood what you meant at first, the guilt at least. Your form was asleep next to him in his painting room.

Breathing slowly, Yushiro couldn't help but lower his paintbrush and stroke your cheek. Your cheek was warm, while his hand was freezing to the touch.

He lifted it off of you when your face contorted in discomfort, the ugly feeling of guilt came back. He shifted back to the canvas he was previously focused on, sighing in discontent at the blur of colors before him.

Dried paint littered his fingers, the undertone of his fingernails bashed with acrylics and oil pastels. His eyes felt heavy as he unconsciously focused on your breathing, his weight shifted on his knees. As quietly as he could, he left the room to dump out the glass cup filled with murky paint water, coming back to your unconscious form laying on the tatami mat flooring.

He thought about carrying you back up to your room, but he didn't want to risk waking you up. You were never really a heavy sleeper in the first place, neither was he either. Slowly, he lowered himself behind you, lifting your head up with the softest touch he could muster. Yushiro slid his arm under your head, allowing you to use his soft kimono sleeves as a pillow. You remain unmoving, he scooted closer and held you against him.

Yushiro was spooning you, on the dirty floors of his painting room. Arm softly wrapped around your waist.

He had never been so uncomfortable in his life, his heart has never raced so fast while laying still. His face was flushed, but not bothered like usual. Slowly, he lowered his face so his noce met your nape to inhale your scent and bask in it.

"That tickles..."

You mumbled, your eyes still closed.

The demon heart raced even faster than before, his face redder than ever. He somehow kept his posture, pulling you closer by your waist. Sinking his face into the crook of your neck, sighing into the skin.

"I'm sorry if it's uncomfortable, but I wanna stay like this a little longer," he confessed, the redness in his ears fading.

You remained silent in his arms, instead trailing one of your hands to meet the hand of his that was around your waist. Intertwining your fingers.

"I love you, but you already knew that," you whispered against his palm.

Yushiro hummed into your neck.

He knew, but he doesn't think you understand just how much he loves you.

You were tempted to invite him upstairs to lay in your futon, but you had a feeling he'd just shake you off and have you leave him there. The tatami mats were rough against both of your skins, not to mention deathly uncomfortable.

You broke the silence, "We should go upstairs if we wanna nap. The floor is uncomfy here."

The boy behind you didn't make another noise, which made you deathly nervous. He only held you, his legs wrapping around your torso.

"I'm plenty comfy," he murmured.

It took most of your will not to come up with some cocky comeback, but you really were enjoying the moment together with him. The way his warmth settled into you, almost made you forget the roughness of the mats below you.

Yushiro wasn't a big cuddler, like at all. It's not like he didn't dislike touching you or you touching him, especially embraces. He just felt so distant towards you recently, you'd been so busy with the publishers and revising your drafts. Not to mention, unusually quiet.

It made him... Insecure.

He debated on bringing it up now, but his brain was melting into your warmth. His grip on you loosened once he felt your body move under him. You turned over, your face now facing his.

His features were soft, versus his furrowed brows he would wear on his face most of the time... He actually looked relaxed. He hadn't noticed himself leaning until he felt the pressure of his lips on yours.

He didn't realize it until you kissed back with him, he pulled back to look at you only for you to reconnect your lips once again. The both of you sighed at the contact, you broke the kiss to leave a small kiss on his upper lip and nose.

"I love you," your voice was soft, Yushiro felt his stomach go into his throat.

Yushiro didn't reply, instead he led you back to his lips. That kiss said everything he couldn't, so sincere it made you want to cry.

You didn't really believe in a God, but if one did exist... You'd like to thank them.

~休憇~

There was a saying among humans that thinking of the illusion of time and the reason for existence was a massive waste of time. Mainly because there is no answer.

One of your neighbors had passed away, it was a young boy who you had spoken to on multiple occasions. He'd always come out in the late evening to give you some variety of fruit while the war was running rampid.

"Pretty ladies don't deserve to be hungry, have some peaches!"

You would look forward to his visits if it wasn't for the fact that you didn't have any interest in consuming his gifts. The taste of peaches always seemed nostalgic to you, tasted like a home far from where you had sat.

He died of a sudden fever, he was almost in his 90's. He lived a long life, and you hoped he could rest easy in the afterlife.

Maybe heaven grows peaches... 

~終了~ 

~終了~ 

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IM SO INCONSISTENT WITH LAYOUTS ON HERE IM SO SORRY ILL FIX IT SOON I PROMISE

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