[The kiss becomes a half-dozen, an endless chain of intimacy in the seal of lips, anchoring him to the world until air is dire — and then Cy's mouth slips down his throat, and those touches are everywhere, holding him close in that smother of affection. For someone else, it might be too much. For a boy whose life is nothing but the starvation of that love, it's barely enough. He clumsily climbs to lay on top of Cy so every point of their bodies connect somewhere, desperate for physical proximity and wishing he had his other arm to complete the circle of an embrace.
Cy's words, first in French and then translated, have undone the remainder of his composure. He doesn't — make much noise, but the tears are drawn out of him in a seemingly endless flow with no stop. They paint silent tracks down his cheeks. He can't express how that statement resounds so deeply through him, how it becomes a permanent presence, how the Sharingan throbs in the socket of his right eye because he'll die just to keep this moment. Beyond time. He wants that.]
no subject
Cy's words, first in French and then translated, have undone the remainder of his composure. He doesn't — make much noise, but the tears are drawn out of him in a seemingly endless flow with no stop. They paint silent tracks down his cheeks. He can't express how that statement resounds so deeply through him, how it becomes a permanent presence, how the Sharingan throbs in the socket of his right eye because he'll die just to keep this moment. Beyond time. He wants that.]