↳𝘢𝘳𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦: chapter thirty-two: 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘴.

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a synopsis of acts: time-skip: trauma, comforting, trusting, ptsd, crying, regression, panic attacks, paranoia, guilt, conflict, fluff + potential more

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

a synopsis of acts: time-skip: trauma, comforting, trusting, ptsd, crying, regression, panic attacks, paranoia, guilt, conflict, fluff + potential more. vote!

a/n: it's my man, toji's, birthday, so I had to post this. anyway, two more chapters of control left. happy new year! (it's now the new year)

Engulfed by a pain so insubstantial, your heart falters so haphazardly towards a burdening ache of pain. A burdening ache whilst your lungs ache so vigorously, your rusty fingers drifting to plaster upon the thudding of your unsafe heart.

Frowning so inelegantly, falling teary at being incapable of deciphering your atmosphere, you glimpse hesitantly at the white sheet you sport.

A white covering whilst an array of flowers linger near your hesitant state, plastering you with hostility. Hostility from the hibiscus ivory flowers.

Stirring the tenderness of your lighter fingers, you glimpse at the healed scarring that lingers. Healed scarring despite your once supple hands falling riddled with indispensable scars, warming your heavy eyes with tears. Tears of disbelief at something so tender being heavily ruined with such ease.

So afraid to glimpse at the tainted shell of yourself, you still the dreariness of your spewing tears.

You're spewing tears whilst your fingers so gently begin to shake, not an ounce of you willing to spew a single word. A single word in hopes of not being subjected to the cruelness of being cut, burnt, kicked, hit or mentally demeaned.

Tilting your head so delicately to the side, you fall known to the presence of a dwelling Toji. A fatigued Toji, whose eyes are subjected to darkness, his features exhibiting equilibrium. Equilibrium whilst he so tenderly begins to stir awake, the gruffness of his viridian eyes subjecting you to the private nature of deep-rooted trepidation.

Observing his watchful eyes widen with each fleeting moment, you conceal any aspects of your breath. Your breath whilst you grasp upon the thick cover for shelter, so fearful towards being deceived and etched in with further mental or physical wounds.

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