On one hand, he has this air about him that is like ice wrapped in spines, but then sometimes something warm will come through, thawing everything and it'll feel like the sun on his skin.
(Or maybe Yuugi just has really piss poor standards. Or is optimistic. Or both.)
That suggestion, though--
"Oh, you don't have to trou--"
His stomach speaks for him: it growls, loud and angry in the middle of the bathroom as though he hasn't eaten in days.
...
Traitor.
...
He sighs, but there's a clear relieved smile on his face.
no subject
On one hand, he has this air about him that is like ice wrapped in spines, but then sometimes something warm will come through, thawing everything and it'll feel like the sun on his skin.
(Or maybe Yuugi just has really piss poor standards. Or is optimistic. Or both.)
That suggestion, though--
"Oh, you don't have to trou--"
His stomach speaks for him: it growls, loud and angry in the middle of the bathroom as though he hasn't eaten in days.
...
Traitor.
...
He sighs, but there's a clear relieved smile on his face.
"...Thank you."