[ through thick and thin. happy and sad. sickness and health.
what's funny is it's not just her support he has, either. back home, his home, he has yukine. all the friends he made from the lives he touched. the same is true here, too. friends he made, lives he touched by being his goofy, kind self. hiyori's next goal is to bear witness to the day yato realizes he's not alone in the world.
and hasn't been. and won't ever be, again.
from pick-up lines to tripping over his own words. hiyori looks up with a softness in her eyes and in her chest, his hoodie folded and set aside. as each button pulls his shirt open, she leans forward and presses her lips to the warm skin. hoping to convey that she's here with him through touch and action if she can't in words.
though his comment makes her laugh against his skin, burying her face and pressing her forehead to his ribcage. can they even stop a god turned mortal? can they stop yato? she'd say no. not much can. if anything at all.
only once his shirt is completely unbuttoned and put aside does she pull back, lifting her arms to help him out.
aaah. it's no use. while yato's busy brushing out her hair, she doesn't resist cupping the back of his head and dragging him down those few inches to kiss him. there's more clothes to shed but
but she wants to feel his mouth on hers. his hair in her fingers. his heart beneath her palm, pressing to his chest. beating fast, beating hard like hers. ]
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what's funny is it's not just her support he has, either. back home, his home, he has yukine. all the friends he made from the lives he touched. the same is true here, too. friends he made, lives he touched by being his goofy, kind self. hiyori's next goal is to bear witness to the day yato realizes he's not alone in the world.
and hasn't been. and won't ever be, again.
from pick-up lines to tripping over his own words. hiyori looks up with a softness in her eyes and in her chest, his hoodie folded and set aside. as each button pulls his shirt open, she leans forward and presses her lips to the warm skin. hoping to convey that she's here with him through touch and action if she can't in words.
though his comment makes her laugh against his skin, burying her face and pressing her forehead to his ribcage. can they even stop a god turned mortal? can they stop yato? she'd say no. not much can. if anything at all.
only once his shirt is completely unbuttoned and put aside does she pull back, lifting her arms to help him out.
aaah. it's no use. while yato's busy brushing out her hair, she doesn't resist cupping the back of his head and dragging him down those few inches to kiss him. there's more clothes to shed but
but she wants to feel his mouth on hers. his hair in her fingers. his heart beneath her palm, pressing to his chest. beating fast, beating hard like hers. ]