Post by chez on Jun 15, 2009 20:54:44 GMT -5
forcope
6/15
“Mr. Hanekoma, you landed on me.”
Joshua’s stating the obvious – but Hanekoma is /on/ him. They lie tangled at the bottom of the stairs, with Hanekoma’s face very very close, legs around Joshua’s waist. The Composer shudders, realizing how awkward the position seems.
“Sorry ‘bout that, J. Must be gettin’ clumsy in my old age.”
Hanekoma barks a laugh and rolls off of him with an easy grin. The look he gives Shibuya’s ruler is innocent enough, but there’s a sharp, almost-predatory edge buried there.
And Joshua thinks maybe his Producer is a bit less Angelic than he lets on.
- -
6/15
6/15
“Mr. Hanekoma, you landed on me.”
Joshua’s stating the obvious – but Hanekoma is /on/ him. They lie tangled at the bottom of the stairs, with Hanekoma’s face very very close, legs around Joshua’s waist. The Composer shudders, realizing how awkward the position seems.
“Sorry ‘bout that, J. Must be gettin’ clumsy in my old age.”
Hanekoma barks a laugh and rolls off of him with an easy grin. The look he gives Shibuya’s ruler is innocent enough, but there’s a sharp, almost-predatory edge buried there.
And Joshua thinks maybe his Producer is a bit less Angelic than he lets on.
- -
6/15
“You bleed like I do.”
Joshua stares, fascinated, at the little scarlet smudge on his fingertips. Hanekoma knows better than to be disturbed.
“That’s right.”
“But you’re an /angel./” The boy – but he’s not a boy, not in mind, and even Hanekoma respects that – looks up, purple eyes narrowed and calculating under a mop of pale hair. His gaze is too bright, too unnatural, not at all suiting a thirteen-year-old.
“In the RG, kid,” and Hanekoma just sucks at the cut on his thumb, half to soothe it and half so that Joshua won’t touch it again, “nobody’s an angel.”
Joshua stares, fascinated, at the little scarlet smudge on his fingertips. Hanekoma knows better than to be disturbed.
“That’s right.”
“But you’re an /angel./” The boy – but he’s not a boy, not in mind, and even Hanekoma respects that – looks up, purple eyes narrowed and calculating under a mop of pale hair. His gaze is too bright, too unnatural, not at all suiting a thirteen-year-old.
“In the RG, kid,” and Hanekoma just sucks at the cut on his thumb, half to soothe it and half so that Joshua won’t touch it again, “nobody’s an angel.”
