Natsume's voice is more than pleasing—it has this light, musical quality to it, something mysteriously ethereal—and even the way he sharpens the edges of his words, forces people to listen to an unnatural and uncomfortable emphasis on a syllable, doesn't sway Subaru's opinion any.
What does, though, is the nickname he's been given; no matter how softly it's said, with the R rolled casually across his tongue, it gives him an uneasy feeling similar to pins and needles, goosebumps rising on his skin. Natsume's satisfied smile when he says it never helps, eyes lidded and head lifted victoriously.
Hina's shoulders rise and slump as Aya continues to hiccup and apologize, wiping at her face with an embarrassed smile. Her cheeks are as pink as her hair, her eyes rimmed red and only growing more vibrant as she rubs at them, and Hina smiles as she takes one of her hands and pulls it down, lacing their fingers together. Aya's eyes widen, her other hand stalling in mid-air and her mouth parted slightly—Hina laughs, reaching up to wipe the tears still running down her flushed cheeks away with her thumb and frowning good-naturedly when more replace them immediately.
There's not a lot that can fill in the gaps in their relationship, but visits help. Catching up over milkshakes and fries helps. Holding hands and reminiscing over the Vault and poking fun at what everyone else does helps. Black wonders if it's just a plaster on their relationship, but it never feels like that when he's pressing against Yosuke's side, listening to him snore softly on the couch as three AM infomercials play out in front of him; it never feels like that when they visit the others, either, and he accepts it just another fact of their circumstances.
Hina says she doesn't mind being a cat—her flexibility is totally incredible now!!—but Aya yawns and makes another cup of coffee, flipping a page in the transmutation textbook she had to dig out from the back of her closet. She hasn't had to touch this since freshman year when she took the class, but... When your stupid broken wand's the one that turns some poor, unmagicial girl into an animal, you're the one who has to fix it. Or something. Hina sniffs the coffeemaker curiously, and Aya stares at her when she laughs about witches still using technology.
Anastasia is, without a doubt in his mind, one of the most charming girls he's ever met. She speaks in carefully crafted Japanese, her mother tongue supplying the words she can't grasp without thinking—but there's excitement to them, too. Tsukasa watches her talk across the table, barely aware of the rest of Knights discussing business with a few of the other girls, and scowls at concerned jab thrown to him about his still uneaten cake. Anastasia blinks at him slowly, her concern more genuine—palpable, even—and he can't stop the warmth spreading across his cheeks, to his ears.
Elizabeth once again thanks him for agreeing to pretending for her—with her—in that polite, demure way she carries herself in thanks to her upbringing, and Dave shrugs nonchalantly in that casual, unhurried way he's always had. It isn't a big deal; he was free, and he can play the part of some high-class richie rich, no problem. Their looks at his ever-present sunglasses don't bother him either. It's worth it to see people's faces when she introduces him as her boyfriend anyway; it's worth it to laugh about it over dinner on the balcony too, all pretenses gone.
Maybe that's one of the things he likes about her; maybe that's one of the things he's always liked about her, for the given degree of "like" any arbiter is able to feel. She's an unstoppable force constantly meeting immovable objects, and he cleans glasses while she complains about something or another. Ginti lifts his eyes when she smacks his counter; she's pushed herself halfway onto it, still mostly in her seat, and her cheeks puff out when she pouts at him and asks if he was listening.
Hinata's voice is warm and confident in his ear, telling him he can definitely, definitely do it—but Tsukasa isn't so sure, watching the curtains and the shadows of the act just beyond them move. He startles slightly when Hinata's hand laces with his, glancing at him, and his company grins in return. If he's with Hinata, he can do it; he's said it before, but "before" wasn't on the precipice of actually performing in front of dozens of people. Now, at that point, he isn't sure he can.
Hinata squeezes his hand when they're called, and Tsukasa exhales slowly.
There's a Christmas story that goes something like this, with two lovers selling off things they love to get money for a gift for the other, only for that gift to be a waste because what it was meant for is now gone. It's a cute, romantic story that always has Ritsu rolling his eyes, though he can't do that now—given they've done something similar this year, with Mao having bought a book Ritsu had just sold because he thought he might like it, and Ritsu having bought a hairclip Mao had just sold because he appreciates practical gifts.
Izumi's the first to excuse himself, though Chiyo is quick to follow him with a shout about helping with snacks. Tsukasa, curled up on the arm of the couch, shares a look with Daisuke, whose position almost mirrors his. They'd decided to watch a movie, given they were all free this weekend, but clicking the first one offered on Netflix had led them to something slightly scarier than anticipated. Their gazes snap back to the television at the same time as the music rises, and they both slowly sink into the couch as the woman on-screen reaches for the light-switch.
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prompt 87: shiver
prompt 89: cry
prompt 23: lacuna
prompt 26: alternate universe
prompt 23: lacuna
prompt 26: alternate universe
prompt 51: shakespeare II
prompt 95: faith
prompt 86: serendipity
prompt 72: anticipation