[ By the time they part his lungs are burning and his blood feels as lazy and languid and soft as his limbs. He's surely gotten a good dose of his own venom by now, and that mixed with the sake and everything else makes him feel like he's floating through a heavy cloud—kisses like raindrops that fall on his skin.
The red bloom of irises reminds him of flowers buds opening at dawn, and it's perhaps in that moment that he realizes that there's beauty in things he used to disregard. He can't look away, but he can search with his one arm (the other still wrapped tightly around Anon's waist in spite of this literal loveknot of fabric and skin), to link their hands together. ]
You found me. [ He repeats, part reminder to himself and part acknowledgement that he's finally found the place where he belongs. ] And I found a real reason to keep going.
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The red bloom of irises reminds him of flowers buds opening at dawn, and it's perhaps in that moment that he realizes that there's beauty in things he used to disregard. He can't look away, but he can search with his one arm (the other still wrapped tightly around Anon's waist in spite of this literal loveknot of fabric and skin), to link their hands together. ]
You found me. [ He repeats, part reminder to himself and part acknowledgement that he's finally found the place where he belongs. ] And I found a real reason to keep going.