[Komaeda pants, trying to catch his breath back to him where it's been stolen from him entirely. His arms move to wrap around Hinata, to hold him close, hands smoothing gently and soothingly over his back slowly.]
You know... I really love being with you. [He whispers the words, like they're some sort of secret. They're clearly not, but maybe he doesn't want his luck to hear. At all. Because there's never been luck this good for him, he thinks, and what could possibly balance it out?
Part of him worries that it's the final rush before his luck finally kills him -- that he finally has reasons, compelling reasons -- to want to live, even being who he is, what he is. But he tries not to think of it, especially not now, when he's still shivering as smaller aftershocks of pleasure race through him. So once more he brushes them aside.] Being close to you.
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You know... I really love being with you. [He whispers the words, like they're some sort of secret. They're clearly not, but maybe he doesn't want his luck to hear. At all. Because there's never been luck this good for him, he thinks, and what could possibly balance it out?
Part of him worries that it's the final rush before his luck finally kills him -- that he finally has reasons, compelling reasons -- to want to live, even being who he is, what he is. But he tries not to think of it, especially not now, when he's still shivering as smaller aftershocks of pleasure race through him. So once more he brushes them aside.] Being close to you.