[but he's skirting again, a little shy with the way Dazai drops his voice to match, as though they are sharing secrets together. He knows it in principle, of course he does - he even believed it once, though it has been some years since.
Yet all of that sounds so much. More than he might have asked for, more than someone like him might have hoped.]
I'm still figuring those out as well - it's silly but... reassuring myself, almost.
[because he has dodged his wants for years; to the extent that it was strange settling into his own home. Living alone is still an adjustment, but he has been gaining a little more confidence in arranging the house how he likes, displaying the things he likes, letting the house reflect more of him. He's had his touchstones but after so long deliberately avoiding things with the knowledge his guests would be averse to them; curating an image for his guests kept up so long it was practically an identity... even small things feel almost daring; silly, simple things like how he'd been practicing portraits with his watercolours instead of landscapes and flower studies.]
No favours.
[in the affirmative this time; an agreement struck, but he echoes a little further with a slight tilt of his head]
A shared experience, is it?
[experience might not be the word, but sharing... it's a rare thing indeed, for him to be an equal in anything.]
no subject
[but he's skirting again, a little shy with the way Dazai drops his voice to match, as though they are sharing secrets together. He knows it in principle, of course he does - he even believed it once, though it has been some years since.
Yet all of that sounds so much. More than he might have asked for, more than someone like him might have hoped.]
I'm still figuring those out as well - it's silly but... reassuring myself, almost.
[because he has dodged his wants for years; to the extent that it was strange settling into his own home. Living alone is still an adjustment, but he has been gaining a little more confidence in arranging the house how he likes, displaying the things he likes, letting the house reflect more of him. He's had his touchstones but after so long deliberately avoiding things with the knowledge his guests would be averse to them; curating an image for his guests kept up so long it was practically an identity... even small things feel almost daring; silly, simple things like how he'd been practicing portraits with his watercolours instead of landscapes and flower studies.]
No favours.
[in the affirmative this time; an agreement struck, but he echoes a little further with a slight tilt of his head]
A shared experience, is it?
[experience might not be the word, but sharing... it's a rare thing indeed, for him to be an equal in anything.]