a magnitude of vulnerability
Nearing the fourth hour of the silent treatment, Kiyoomi’s already frayed nerves began to whittle down to their last fibers.
Today, it was raining. A proper Tokyo monsoon tantrum just shy of a full-blown typhoon that left puddles on sidewalks and fell from an angle so wicked it eluded umbrellas. It was raining and they haven’t spoken in almost four hours.
(In which Sakusa wanders into the minefield that is Atsumu's feelings and tries not to blow things up.)
- Part 1 of a magnitude of vulnerability
Kiyoomi woke up knowing deep in his being that it was a bad day. The persistent dread had lodged inside his head again, an ambient, slow thrumming, its sound serrated and misshapen.
Atsumu could give him quiet. He had almost forgotten what it was like before, when he lived alone.
Yearning was a strange emotion. It wasn't a feeling but the absence of one, like something in his chest was slowly being scooped out.
(Kiyoomi has a series of bad days. Atsumu is away in France.)
- Part 2 of a magnitude of vulnerability