[ He stares at the sheet, stock still for a while, before he looks up and he's greeted by Makoto's smile. Haru finds an unknown knot start to unravel in his chest, a nonsensical fear that Makoto would be upset with him depending on the outcome of this conversation. In most cases, he'd think that their friendship hinges on the outcome of this conversation, on social graces that Haru doesn't have, or feelings that aren't right, aren't requited.
But if Makoto isn't afraid—if they'll still be each other's closest person no matter what Haru does or doesn't say back—then he doesn't have to work so hard to answer.
His expression eases, not elated or sad, just... Haru. Affected, in a quiet way. His heart feels like it's traveled up his throat, like it's beating there, hard and noisy against how soft his words are. ]
I can only ever be myself.
[ Makoto doesn't have to worry that Haru will force himself into some disparate mold. He is, for better and worse, unabashedly himself. Even when he does things for someone else's sake, it's because he wants to. If he responds to Makoto's feelings, then that's his own desire.
Though—Makoto isn't unreasonable to doubt his interest. Haru—mister "water for brains" himself—who crushed on a waterfall before a person. The whole problem with his classmate and her letter stemmed from how little attention he's paid to romance. His past indifference is biting him twice now. He cuts his gaze away, frowning like he's been teased. ]
I already agreed with you before. That a letter from the right guy would be... [ Well, okay. He's not going to use the same verbage. Cute. ] It'd be fine.
[ Speechless, Makoto cannot tear his eyes away from Haru. It’d be fine. This small echo thunders in his ears, like a microphone held too close to speakers. It's deafening. How many things have been said between them that never reached this pitch? To say he had dreamed of this moment gave him too much credit: he wished, but would never dare to imagine. Now, with subtle words, he’s forced to grapple with the small, polite implication that, maybe... He could be that “right guy” for Haru.
His smile complex, he can’t deny the stress that pools in his chest. There are years of safeguards here he’s forced to undo, practically none which could be taken down in mere seconds. A rejection almost would have been easier, he thinks ruefully; at least that, he was prepared for. His eyes glance aside as he rubs his pounding heart. A small, audible sigh slips out of him, his fretting evident. He’s overwhelmed, but he’s not doing either of them any favours by letting his timid heart have its way. Terribly, if this is his chance, he wants it to be perfect, but no about of breathing or waiting was going to still the inevitable shake in his voice.
So he stands, facing Haru—he tries to stand up straight and instill confidence in himself, but a small, shy laughter quickly undoes his efforts. He slouches, his neck craned in turn, his shoulders high, and he smiles his very best: ]
Would... you like to go to the Aquarium with me, Haru? I think... that’s something couples like to do, right? Maybe next week....
[ Never mind that their brunch not-date is still in front of them. Too many years of subtlety and friendship, he realizes he needs something obvious. ]
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But if Makoto isn't afraid—if they'll still be each other's closest person no matter what Haru does or doesn't say back—then he doesn't have to work so hard to answer.
His expression eases, not elated or sad, just... Haru. Affected, in a quiet way. His heart feels like it's traveled up his throat, like it's beating there, hard and noisy against how soft his words are. ]
I can only ever be myself.
[ Makoto doesn't have to worry that Haru will force himself into some disparate mold. He is, for better and worse, unabashedly himself. Even when he does things for someone else's sake, it's because he wants to. If he responds to Makoto's feelings, then that's his own desire.
Though—Makoto isn't unreasonable to doubt his interest. Haru—mister "water for brains" himself—who crushed on a waterfall before a person. The whole problem with his classmate and her letter stemmed from how little attention he's paid to romance. His past indifference is biting him twice now. He cuts his gaze away, frowning like he's been teased. ]
I already agreed with you before. That a letter from the right guy would be... [ Well, okay. He's not going to use the same verbage. Cute. ] It'd be fine.
no subject
His smile complex, he can’t deny the stress that pools in his chest. There are years of safeguards here he’s forced to undo, practically none which could be taken down in mere seconds. A rejection almost would have been easier, he thinks ruefully; at least that, he was prepared for. His eyes glance aside as he rubs his pounding heart. A small, audible sigh slips out of him, his fretting evident. He’s overwhelmed, but he’s not doing either of them any favours by letting his timid heart have its way. Terribly, if this is his chance, he wants it to be perfect, but no about of breathing or waiting was going to still the inevitable shake in his voice.
So he stands, facing Haru—he tries to stand up straight and instill confidence in himself, but a small, shy laughter quickly undoes his efforts. He slouches, his neck craned in turn, his shoulders high, and he smiles his very best: ]
Would... you like to go to the Aquarium with me, Haru? I think... that’s something couples like to do, right? Maybe next week....
[ Never mind that their brunch not-date is still in front of them. Too many years of subtlety and friendship, he realizes he needs something obvious. ]