(you can pm me here or on plurk if you'd like to beforehand, but also if you'd just like to drop something at my doorstep with no preamble please do!!)
[ He's not breathing much easier, having said that, but– it's tolerable. The worst secret of all still festers in his trachea, his lungs, down to the very rot of his soul that he shares with the boy curled up with him.
Maybe he's imagining this conversation in his feverish delusions. It's the closest Akechi has come to approaching kindness in his words in a very, very long time.
It wouldn't make me unhappy.
That's as good as gold, isn't it? ]
Let's sleep.
[ His eyes are already closed, body heavy with exhaustion. There's no other alternative, but when presented with an inevitability, they both prefer to pretend it's something they're choosing. ]
Perhaps if we both imagine something like that tonight, we'll dream together. Stranger things have happened here, after all.
[Let's sleep - and Akechi wonders if Maruki recognizes the all too real possibility neither of them may wake up. That vines could strangle them under the weight of their secrets - it's not as if anything grand was stated here. Nothing new. Nothing truly unknown.
They could sleep. They could die. Akechi isn't upset at the possibility.
We'll dream together - he doesn't want that.
The collar of Maruki's shirt is the last thing he sees. The haunting thought of sharing some shitty, sentimental illusion is the last thought he has.
And when he dreams -
He sees a whole world open up - a mountainside bathhouse, a car ride up to it, flashes of popup cafes with limited edition drinks, Akechi swatting a hand trying to ruin his picture of it.
But it's suffocating. Worse than the nothing that normally fills his mind. More agonizing than a noose.
He craves it anyway. Grasps it anyway. Rips the dream back, even as his eyes crack open in the dead of night, with his own wheezing breath choking him. He drags the dream back throughout, even when he's awakened by coughs and gasps of someone under him. He doesn't remember laying here and-
He doesn't care. If they die, they die. Maruki can move. Leave. Talk. Find someone to spill his guts to.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(frozen comment) sigh. go ahead. kill me in one shot
Maybe he's imagining this conversation in his feverish delusions. It's the closest Akechi has come to approaching kindness in his words in a very, very long time.
It wouldn't make me unhappy.
That's as good as gold, isn't it? ]
Let's sleep.
[ His eyes are already closed, body heavy with exhaustion. There's no other alternative, but when presented with an inevitability, they both prefer to pretend it's something they're choosing. ]
Perhaps if we both imagine something like that tonight, we'll dream together. Stranger things have happened here, after all.
(frozen comment) no subject
They could sleep. They could die. Akechi isn't upset at the possibility.
We'll dream together - he doesn't want that.
The collar of Maruki's shirt is the last thing he sees. The haunting thought of sharing some shitty, sentimental illusion is the last thought he has.
And when he dreams -
He sees a whole world open up - a mountainside bathhouse, a car ride up to it, flashes of popup cafes with limited edition drinks, Akechi swatting a hand trying to ruin his picture of it.
But it's suffocating. Worse than the nothing that normally fills his mind. More agonizing than a noose.
He craves it anyway. Grasps it anyway. Rips the dream back, even as his eyes crack open in the dead of night, with his own wheezing breath choking him. He drags the dream back throughout, even when he's awakened by coughs and gasps of someone under him. He doesn't remember laying here and-
He doesn't care. If they die, they die. Maruki can move. Leave. Talk. Find someone to spill his guts to.
All Akechi wants to do is sleep.]