[back home, home home, as in with his family, Midousuji was always quiet. respectable, mild. manic and chaotic to all else who knew him—but Aerith draws out a different quality from within him, that way. echoes of something familiar—something he doesn’t want to disrespect. he hasn’t figured it out, just yet, despite his cunning—cultivating dossiers in depth on his opponents so he could learn how they ticked, to psychologically terrorize them... this is a much more organic, less practiced structure, which is why it scares him. it doesn’t make sense, outside of home. yet here he is. Aerith has likenesses to two people Midousuji holds very dear, though he wouldn’t ever even let himself think deeply enough about his feelings in any regard to arrive to that conclusion.
he jumps, a little bit, when she manipulates his arm that way—and against her hopeful intentions, he remains tense; unnatural. Midousuji always holds his body in such incredible tension, without being aware of it—and this probably reveals that quite plainly. Midousuji is not a relaxed person.
he stares at her, feeling some ripples of some deep, unknown thing that frightens and cements him at the same time, completely uncomprehending.
thankfully, because he’s so strange, he doesn’t think to analyze the way she doesn’t look at him; it doesn’t occur to him at all. and part of that is because frankly, she’s only absorbed peripherally; he doesn’t look at her either. the way his pulse, so near to her eager hands, races, is precisely why. he rests his hand across his face, thinking carefully. it’s probably for slightly too long.]
...Yes. I think so. You helped me. For no reason, many times... But—
[Midousuji’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks uncomfortable. he doesn’t like talking about his feelings. he considers them a point of weakness. distantly, he remembers some vague echoes of someone who forced his way into Midousuji’s thoughts similarly—having hauled Midousuji’s unconscious body into his van, he’d given Midousuji some stern words (while he was out cold) about what he was lacking—the ability to connect with other people. to rely on them. Midousuji barely even recalls it, even as his hand is tangled up in the warmth of both of Aerith’s. it feels caustic, but magnetizing—quite literally, he feels like a moth to a flame.
with this tension, this discomfort, he could get up, storm off, no explanation—he doesn’t feel remorse, doesn’t care how he effects other people, as he’s said. but those similarities to the women in his life he’s loved keeps him stuck where he is.
he feels trapped, but also like he’s drawn to something. something to help him grow? or something that will destroy him? he isn’t sure.]
But I don’t...rely on people. I don’t need them. I...
[Midousuji looks away fully, now, his expression cross and frustrated, teeth bared as he tries to figure out his feelings. even privately, they’re impossible to discern. he seems like a candid person, but outside of his practiced elements, he simply isn’t. at all.]
...don’t do things... I don’t want to do. Outside of things like Bonding, and stuff—survival.
I’m not here...because you’re useful. I think you are, in some ways, but I haven’t even figured out how, or if it matters.
I don’t know what you are. That feeling... is gross. I feel disgusting. You’re hard to understand. I can usually figure people out pretty quickly, but...
[wow. where was he going with that. he definitely wants to bolt, now. but he’s held in her gentle hold. the way you hold something, if that thing is important. it makes him feel paralyzed.]
no subject
he jumps, a little bit, when she manipulates his arm that way—and against her hopeful intentions, he remains tense; unnatural. Midousuji always holds his body in such incredible tension, without being aware of it—and this probably reveals that quite plainly. Midousuji is not a relaxed person.
he stares at her, feeling some ripples of some deep, unknown thing that frightens and cements him at the same time, completely uncomprehending.
thankfully, because he’s so strange, he doesn’t think to analyze the way she doesn’t look at him; it doesn’t occur to him at all. and part of that is because frankly, she’s only absorbed peripherally; he doesn’t look at her either. the way his pulse, so near to her eager hands, races, is precisely why. he rests his hand across his face, thinking carefully. it’s probably for slightly too long.]
...Yes. I think so. You helped me. For no reason, many times... But—
[Midousuji’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks uncomfortable. he doesn’t like talking about his feelings. he considers them a point of weakness. distantly, he remembers some vague echoes of someone who forced his way into Midousuji’s thoughts similarly—having hauled Midousuji’s unconscious body into his van, he’d given Midousuji some stern words (while he was out cold) about what he was lacking—the ability to connect with other people. to rely on them. Midousuji barely even recalls it, even as his hand is tangled up in the warmth of both of Aerith’s. it feels caustic, but magnetizing—quite literally, he feels like a moth to a flame.
with this tension, this discomfort, he could get up, storm off, no explanation—he doesn’t feel remorse, doesn’t care how he effects other people, as he’s said. but those similarities to the women in his life he’s loved keeps him stuck where he is.
he feels trapped, but also like he’s drawn to something. something to help him grow? or something that will destroy him? he isn’t sure.]
But I don’t...rely on people. I don’t need them. I...
[Midousuji looks away fully, now, his expression cross and frustrated, teeth bared as he tries to figure out his feelings. even privately, they’re impossible to discern. he seems like a candid person, but outside of his practiced elements, he simply isn’t. at all.]
...don’t do things... I don’t want to do. Outside of things like Bonding, and stuff—survival.
I’m not here...because you’re useful. I think you are, in some ways, but I haven’t even figured out how, or if it matters.
I don’t know what you are. That feeling... is gross. I feel disgusting. You’re hard to understand. I can usually figure people out pretty quickly, but...
[wow. where was he going with that. he definitely wants to bolt, now. but he’s held in her gentle hold. the way you hold something, if that thing is important. it makes him feel paralyzed.]