[ To Haru's first words, Makoto turns his head and, after a beat, smiles, his feelings visibly as complex as whatever troubles him within.
Have they changed? Makoto wonders. Haru has changed; Haru is so much more than he was even a couple years ago. Thoughtful, mature, handsome, determined. Although at times Makoto felt terrible watching that metamorphosis, even causing some of that pain, the man with him now had grown for every challenge he faced. Of course, Makoto saw how much he had grown.
Himself, however? It seemsā¦ unfathomable. He felt bigger, older, maybe a bit smarter, but is that really changing? His mind wanders back into catacombs of memories. A polite cough, on his first day of middle school, as he called himself ore for the first time. He wanted so badly just to grow up in those old days. He wanted to be with Haru for every moment of it. Still, he tried to put that distance between them and find himself, but for what? This feeling did not change, did it?
But they... together, had they changed? Still side by side. Still best friends. Dreams apart but still together. Forever constants in each otherās lives. He wonders what Haru might see in him, now, as theyāve grown so much together.
Makoto turns, sitting half way on the desk, a little shorter now and slouched as he glances at Haru. ] Maybe Iām worried Iāll do something dumb. Again. [ Thereās a humility to the smile. He blames himself for pushing Haru away in middle school; for pulling away from him in high school. Rarely they fought, but it did weigh heavy on his heart when he remembered. Yet, he never wanted to lose Haru. He stares forward, his eyes seeing through his friend, his mind caught up in a hidden feeling that he is still trying to chase down. ]
If I said something stupid that... you didnāt want, [ he glances up finally, his green eyes staunch against the bright hue in his cheeks, ] Iād still want you to be my friend. Haru. So... do you mind?
[ There's a tiny, troubled furrow in his brow. He understands Makoto's caution, because their relationship is something precious. Something to sustain at any cost. Is it any wonder he might treat it like glass, as though it's frailer than it really is? Haru is often the other extreme, too confident about their friendship, taking for granted how it'll survive no matter how he acts—but even then, there's a peculiar doubt and uncertainty in Makoto's words and in his modest smile, and Haru feels a quiet anxiety of his own. It spreads like ripples across an otherwise still lake, a call and answer response.
This all feels... new. Like that letter had been.
But, Makoto is also a worrier. Chronically over-concerned and over-caring. He's probably been overthinking this; it'd be no surprise if whatever this is about had helped contribute to his sleepless night.
So it won't help for both of them to get nervous. Haru exhales in a sigh, settling himself, pushing down an unnamed trepidation of his own until it's so compressed it doesn't affect his voice at all. ]
...You're ridiculous. Who asks for permission to be stupid...? [ He says so with a classic, feigned exasperation. They've both done countless idiotic things to each other. He waves off his concern and looks Makoto in the eyes, above the color in his cheeks, beyond the nerves. ] Just say whatever you want.
[ He doesn't want distance for the sake of security; he doesn't want to be held a safe arm's length away, because that's still away. Better that Makoto to speak his true thoughts, as absurd or painful as they may be. At worst, they'll have a fight, but they've crossed worse roads before. Worries or not, change or not, they'll still be friends, forever. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no subject
Have they changed? Makoto wonders. Haru has changed; Haru is so much more than he was even a couple years ago. Thoughtful, mature, handsome, determined. Although at times Makoto felt terrible watching that metamorphosis, even causing some of that pain, the man with him now had grown for every challenge he faced. Of course, Makoto saw how much he had grown.
Himself, however? It seemsā¦ unfathomable. He felt bigger, older, maybe a bit smarter, but is that really changing? His mind wanders back into catacombs of memories. A polite cough, on his first day of middle school, as he called himself ore for the first time. He wanted so badly just to grow up in those old days. He wanted to be with Haru for every moment of it. Still, he tried to put that distance between them and find himself, but for what? This feeling did not change, did it?
But they... together, had they changed? Still side by side. Still best friends. Dreams apart but still together. Forever constants in each otherās lives. He wonders what Haru might see in him, now, as theyāve grown so much together.
Makoto turns, sitting half way on the desk, a little shorter now and slouched as he glances at Haru. ] Maybe Iām worried Iāll do something dumb. Again. [ Thereās a humility to the smile. He blames himself for pushing Haru away in middle school; for pulling away from him in high school. Rarely they fought, but it did weigh heavy on his heart when he remembered. Yet, he never wanted to lose Haru. He stares forward, his eyes seeing through his friend, his mind caught up in a hidden feeling that he is still trying to chase down. ]
If I said something stupid that... you didnāt want, [ he glances up finally, his green eyes staunch against the bright hue in his cheeks, ] Iād still want you to be my friend. Haru. So... do you mind?
no subject
This all feels... new. Like that letter had been.
But, Makoto is also a worrier. Chronically over-concerned and over-caring. He's probably been overthinking this; it'd be no surprise if whatever this is about had helped contribute to his sleepless night.
So it won't help for both of them to get nervous. Haru exhales in a sigh, settling himself, pushing down an unnamed trepidation of his own until it's so compressed it doesn't affect his voice at all. ]
...You're ridiculous. Who asks for permission to be stupid...? [ He says so with a classic, feigned exasperation. They've both done countless idiotic things to each other. He waves off his concern and looks Makoto in the eyes, above the color in his cheeks, beyond the nerves. ] Just say whatever you want.
[ He doesn't want distance for the sake of security; he doesn't want to be held a safe arm's length away, because that's still away. Better that Makoto to speak his true thoughts, as absurd or painful as they may be. At worst, they'll have a fight, but they've crossed worse roads before. Worries or not, change or not, they'll still be friends, forever. ]