[Midousuji’s head dips a little at that past tense, but he doesn’t say anything. he suddenly makes an uncomfortable expression, the alcohol in his throat feeling suddenly apparent again. Aerith lets go of his hand, and he blinks. he tilts his head at her curiously, seeming to calm down from his dramatic agitations.
funnily, when Aerith’s gaze dodges Midousuji’s, he finds it easier to look at her. go figure. but even that’s brief—he looks away again when she explains, and the hand that had been held in Aerith’s feels funny—like it clings to the memory of the pressure, and the warmth, but it doesn’t have the burning tingle it had when they were bonded.
Midousuji rolls her words around in his head again, blinking as he considers that. how he wants to answer. he squints, teeth grit again, annoyed he’s run yet again into something he doesn’t want to quantify. and should he? does it matter? if it does...why is that? what’s even happening to him anymore.]
Well, you’re right. I’m not the type to talk stuff out like that. I wondered if that was part of it.
[he reaches into his bag, expression evening out again as he rummages—and without looking at Aerith, he extends his palm towards her again, turned upward to present a clementine. Midousuji has a high metabolism, and this was going to be a long night—and he’d be an eel’s ass if he was going to let Aerith take care of him again when he was perfectly capable of bringing his own food.]
But you’re wrong, too—I don’t think you’re disgusting. [Midousuji finds it interesting that they both seem so sure in each other’s assessment of the other, despite being often wrong.] “Gross” and “disgusting” are different. A little. It’s hard to explain, but... “Gross” is like, a creepy feeling... I guess it means a lot of stuff, but probably most of the time, I don’t mean it the way you think I do.
[he tilts his head. it’s too weird to explain it as a verbal tic. he didn’t always have it, but he certainly developed it. he’s not even sure how to explain something like that. the compulsion for word repetition, for specific words—that it’s a reaction to too many broad things. standard traits in other people that Midousuji carries with negative connotations; society’s warped standards; his own feelings. that’s something Midousuji doesn’t much address. when he feels something for someone, something that makes him uncomfortable—it’s gross, and he says so, which the person often takes as being directed at their behavior, or their person. and sometimes it is.
but often, Midousuji is just reacting to the crawly, nauseating feeling of being cared for.
she’d even said it, too. that’s a normal thing, too. being honest, unafraid, and unashamed of those kinds of feelings. gross.]
Maybe I’ll explain if I ever figure it out. But yeah, it’s not like I have the desire to learn more about you, or to pry, that’s true—but it’s not because I find you revolting...
I just don’t have to know people like that to...
[to what?? Midousuji’s jaw drops a little again, closes, then falls again.]
no subject
funnily, when Aerith’s gaze dodges Midousuji’s, he finds it easier to look at her. go figure. but even that’s brief—he looks away again when she explains, and the hand that had been held in Aerith’s feels funny—like it clings to the memory of the pressure, and the warmth, but it doesn’t have the burning tingle it had when they were bonded.
Midousuji rolls her words around in his head again, blinking as he considers that. how he wants to answer. he squints, teeth grit again, annoyed he’s run yet again into something he doesn’t want to quantify. and should he? does it matter? if it does...why is that? what’s even happening to him anymore.]
Well, you’re right. I’m not the type to talk stuff out like that. I wondered if that was part of it.
[he reaches into his bag, expression evening out again as he rummages—and without looking at Aerith, he extends his palm towards her again, turned upward to present a clementine. Midousuji has a high metabolism, and this was going to be a long night—and he’d be an eel’s ass if he was going to let Aerith take care of him again when he was perfectly capable of bringing his own food.]
But you’re wrong, too—I don’t think you’re disgusting. [Midousuji finds it interesting that they both seem so sure in each other’s assessment of the other, despite being often wrong.] “Gross” and “disgusting” are different. A little. It’s hard to explain, but... “Gross” is like, a creepy feeling... I guess it means a lot of stuff, but probably most of the time, I don’t mean it the way you think I do.
[he tilts his head. it’s too weird to explain it as a verbal tic. he didn’t always have it, but he certainly developed it. he’s not even sure how to explain something like that. the compulsion for word repetition, for specific words—that it’s a reaction to too many broad things. standard traits in other people that Midousuji carries with negative connotations; society’s warped standards; his own feelings. that’s something Midousuji doesn’t much address. when he feels something for someone, something that makes him uncomfortable—it’s gross, and he says so, which the person often takes as being directed at their behavior, or their person. and sometimes it is.
but often, Midousuji is just reacting to the crawly, nauseating feeling of being cared for.
she’d even said it, too. that’s a normal thing, too. being honest, unafraid, and unashamed of those kinds of feelings. gross.]
Maybe I’ll explain if I ever figure it out. But yeah, it’s not like I have the desire to learn more about you, or to pry, that’s true—but it’s not because I find you revolting...
I just don’t have to know people like that to...
[to what?? Midousuji’s jaw drops a little again, closes, then falls again.]
...be around them, I guess.