[ as if responding to shu's thoughts, the curtain behind them closes with a sense of utter finality--there's a soft voice from outside that sounds as if its instructing the audience to leave, to be silent and let shu have his moment. the line between shu's dream and nazuna's nightmare is razor thin, and the hush of the audience evaporating into thin air means everything around them feels amplified.
nazuna's arm feels heavy when shu lifts it, as if he's been overtaken by some kind of porcelain, fitting the look of a perfect doll as told. there's a chill that goes down his spine as his hand moves down, a contrast to his own warm skin, and his eyes flick away from shu's for just a moment to watch him take his hand, the tender way that he slides their fingers together--
he's been in love with shu for almost as long as he can remember, how great this could be, but it's wrong, wrong
--and the shush that makes the last bit of noise die out. there's nothing, not the rustle of velvet under his fingers or the noises coming out of nazuna's mouth. even if he wanted to, he couldn't.
he finally makes a noise again, but it's just a soft affirmative, a yes. the sound tears itself out of his throat without permission, because maybe--maybe it'd be easier to give in than it would be to fight it. that he wants that warm touch to come back, wants the ice to seep out of shu's voice. he wants the itsuki he knows back, not--not this, where everything feels wrong.
if he had the choice, he'd squeeze shu's hand to try and get his attention, but he doesn't. his fingers stay gently in shu's, not holding, just resting there. all of his movements are commanded by shu's body, and nazuna can't even close his eyes and look away.
it's just sad, now, reflected in those big, pink eyes. hurt, sadness. fear, as he finally stops trying to fight back. let's dance. shu wants him to be a doll, and--maybe that's what he has to be.
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nazuna's arm feels heavy when shu lifts it, as if he's been overtaken by some kind of porcelain, fitting the look of a perfect doll as told. there's a chill that goes down his spine as his hand moves down, a contrast to his own warm skin, and his eyes flick away from shu's for just a moment to watch him take his hand, the tender way that he slides their fingers together--
he's been in love with shu for almost as long as he can remember, how great this could be, but it's wrong, wrong
--and the shush that makes the last bit of noise die out. there's nothing, not the rustle of velvet under his fingers or the noises coming out of nazuna's mouth. even if he wanted to, he couldn't.
he finally makes a noise again, but it's just a soft affirmative, a yes. the sound tears itself out of his throat without permission, because maybe--maybe it'd be easier to give in than it would be to fight it. that he wants that warm touch to come back, wants the ice to seep out of shu's voice. he wants the itsuki he knows back, not--not this, where everything feels wrong.
if he had the choice, he'd squeeze shu's hand to try and get his attention, but he doesn't. his fingers stay gently in shu's, not holding, just resting there. all of his movements are commanded by shu's body, and nazuna can't even close his eyes and look away.
it's just sad, now, reflected in those big, pink eyes. hurt, sadness. fear, as he finally stops trying to fight back. let's dance. shu wants him to be a doll, and--maybe that's what he has to be.
shouldn't he just give in? ]