★★★★★ week 7. thursday. mizuki.

[haw]

[ the weeks have come and gone, the thirteen gods bringing with them many different locations reminiscent of home to the temple during their host weeks... but none of those locales have been nearly as memorable to majima as the simple parlor on the second floor, and not just because it was the very first place he'd visited once the participants had been set loose and he suddenly found himself in desperate need of a stiff drink. funny how things work like that sometimes.

he holds mizuki's hand as he leads them into the room, wrinkling his nose at the smell of roses that hit them almost immediately upon entry. it, unsurprisingly, looks the same as ever, with the exception of that week havoc had been wreaked inside. ]

Ya know, I've been wonderin' how ya managed to fall asleep here before ya started shackin' up with me.

[ as usual, there's a teasing lilt to his voice as he nudges them gently in the ribs. ]

Comments

[haw]

[ they're so warm, so present, so real pressed this close against his lips. his only wish—a transient one, not the one he's planning on ending the game with, of course—is that they could've let their walls down earlier, so that he could've had more time like this with them... but, ah, then all of the things that led the two of them up to now wouldn't have had as much impact, would they?

. . .

time and hindsight are dumb like that, so he probably shouldn't put much stock into them.

he raises a hand to tuck their head closer when they drift from his mouth, nestling them further into the crook of his neck. and, because he'd rather die before he stopped being over the top, he slides his other hand under their legs and hoists them into his arms. he doesn't sweep them off their feet for long; he simply carries them back around the bar to the stool he'd been sitting on just a few moments ago, and sets them upon his lap. ]

I always thought ya could do with a lil' less serious an' a lil' more silly.

[digestif]

[ oh, here he goes again. On one hand, it feels mildly humiliating to be carried around like this - they don't like being put in vulnerable positions - but, on the other hand, it's just Majima. They've already been about as vulnerable as possible in front of him. Mizuki sighs in exasperated amusement as they're picked up once more, and settles against his chest when he takes a seat with them.

... Maybe it's okay to be weak once in a while. As long as they don't get used to it. (Not that they have time to, anyway.) ]

Ha ha. This place is forcing me to be more serious than usual, that's all. If you saw me while I was off the clock, you'd be surprised.