participant 420 with some introspective harus and cute makoharus ;u;
At the edge of the ocean, Haruka wanders. The moon dips below the sealine, rippling white across the dark blue expanse. Haruka knows he is a wall, even though he was not asked -- Haruka is glad to be this, in his warm sweater in the autumn air.
"I know you want to swim." Makoto's voice comes cutting through the night. He is gentle like the sand beneath Haruka's toes. Makoto is wearing sandals; he doesn't like risking his feet getting cut by a stray shell.
Haruka does not look at him as he replies. "I'm okay." The light hits his face on one side.
Makoto is on the other.
He nudges Haruka, gently. The corner of his lips are tugged, hinting at a smile under the dimness. "Are you? It's been a while since you've been in the ocean."
Haruka breathes, the wind chilling around their wrists. In another world, he thinks that maybe he would get the courage, grab for Makoto's hand. Press them together, press their mouths together. With Haruka's back to the ocean, Haruka in between, Makoto grasping at him for support and desperation and warmth.
Their hands dangle next to each other, not touching. "I can live." Haruka tries not to sound too sarcastic, too teasing.
"I know that." Makoto sounds amused. He pokes Haruka in the side -- their first instance of contact. Haruka tries not to flinch, tries not to curl into him for more. "You're right here."
Haruka is here. Between Makoto and the shore, enough but never enough, dark on one side and light on the other. He wants to be this, Makoto's light side -- he thinks maybe he is the sun and Makoto is the moon, but the way Makoto smiles is contrary, too bright for Haruka's support.
The waves crash onto the shore. "I am," and Haruka balls his hands into a fist, imagining Makoto's hand in his. But it's okay.
FILL: SWAG 2016, no tags
At the edge of the ocean, Haruka wanders. The moon dips below the sealine, rippling white across the dark blue expanse. Haruka knows he is a wall, even though he was not asked -- Haruka is glad to be this, in his warm sweater in the autumn air.
"I know you want to swim." Makoto's voice comes cutting through the night. He is gentle like the sand beneath Haruka's toes. Makoto is wearing sandals; he doesn't like risking his feet getting cut by a stray shell.
Haruka does not look at him as he replies. "I'm okay." The light hits his face on one side.
Makoto is on the other.
He nudges Haruka, gently. The corner of his lips are tugged, hinting at a smile under the dimness. "Are you? It's been a while since you've been in the ocean."
Haruka breathes, the wind chilling around their wrists. In another world, he thinks that maybe he would get the courage, grab for Makoto's hand. Press them together, press their mouths together. With Haruka's back to the ocean, Haruka in between, Makoto grasping at him for support and desperation and warmth.
Their hands dangle next to each other, not touching. "I can live." Haruka tries not to sound too sarcastic, too teasing.
"I know that." Makoto sounds amused. He pokes Haruka in the side -- their first instance of contact. Haruka tries not to flinch, tries not to curl into him for more. "You're right here."
Haruka is here. Between Makoto and the shore, enough but never enough, dark on one side and light on the other. He wants to be this, Makoto's light side -- he thinks maybe he is the sun and Makoto is the moon, but the way Makoto smiles is contrary, too bright for Haruka's support.
The waves crash onto the shore. "I am," and Haruka balls his hands into a fist, imagining Makoto's hand in his. But it's okay.
Haruka is happy here with him.