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[It takes him a second.]

[In part it's because he can feel her nerves. They confuse him, so that's what he's focused on when her response finally comes in. She has to go talk to Alex, okay, maybe that's why she's got that buzzing along with the other stuff, and she wants to come see him afterwards, and—]

[And, wait.]

[Wait. Wait.]

[From her side it must be like a bomb going off, a big bang but everything that comes out of it is soft, flower petals and warm sun lying in the grass and fingers laced together loose and easy. His chest is tight and he kind of wants to cry and he kind of wants to tell her to forget Alex because all of a sudden he hates that she isn't right here with him.]

[When he responds, there's no hesitation.]

ok
love you

[Their entire relationship has been built on questionable timing, so this is par for the course, really.

Even as she starts to move around her quarters, pacing as she contacts Alex, there's a similar urge to go find Mista in response to—the best reaction she could have hoped for, something so joyful and perfect. She stops pacing to read his returning message, and—

The squeeze in her chest verges on painful, the flash and warmth of sunlight verging on too bright and too warm, straddling the edge of being too much to hold, too much to stuff into the folder that is sayori.chr. But it settles into a summer day, and she basks in it as she types one more quick response.]

♡♡♡♡♡♡

[Mista can tell it's a rollercoaster of a conversation. Despite the noticeable spikes of emotion, her approach is a familiar one as she tries to be a calming presence for Alex. And occasionally, there's a trickle of satisfaction that seems to indicate it might be working.

It's clear when she's done, too, because when she leaves Alex's room she begins taking the quickest route to Mista's location. And...speeds up to a jog as soon as she can get away with it. If it involves going down stairs, she Feather Falls down them in one great leap.

She looks exhausted when she shows up, but she wears a genuine smile nonetheless.]

[He's in his room when he feels her leave the heavy, fraught conversation. As soon as he does, he crosses over to open the door and leaves it that way for her, flopping back down on the bed with his hands over his eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. He's calmer the closer she gets.]

[By the time she shows up in the doorway, he's pulled his arm away and cracked half a grin.]

Hey.

[God. Even though she feels wrung out like an old towel, what's left inside her still flutters as he greets her.

She steps inside and closes the door behind her clumsily—it takes a couple tries, on account of the fact that her eyes are glued to him while she's doing it and she's clearly very distracted.] Hi there.

[There's a joyful weightlessness to the way she hops on over to the bed. And, once again, does not ask permission at all before taking over the empty space that remains in it. She's sitting up, but she leans on one hand like that could be a temporary affair should Mista be amenable to it.]

[There's an echoing ripple of good-natured amusement as she falls over herself a little. From looking at him. Even despite all of this. I love her, he thinks, and wonders if she can feel it. Probably.]

[The dip of her weight on the mattress makes him smile, too. He unfolds his arm and pats the bed.]

C'mon. I know you're tired.

[Bond. Taps temple. Time to snuggle.]

[The corners of her expression soften, and she gratefully sinks down into the (perfectly Sayori-shaped, she thinks) space left under his arm. She wiggles in close and slips an arm over his stomach, and she already feels so much better just being here with him.

Especially since. Well.]

Sorry, I didn't mean to say that and then run, ahaha. I just—

[She doesn't sound very sorry, actually, but it seems polite to apologise for her bad timing?] You were being super sweet. I felt like I was gonna die if I held it in!

[He curls towards her like he's been waiting for her the whole time — which isn't so inaccurate. Halfway facing her, a little more of the tension in his whole body fades.]

[There's a lot he wants to say. Like about how he wasn't really being sweet, he just cares about her, like he said. About how it's okay, because feelings are weird and unpredictable a lot of the time (most of the time) and it felt like the right time to him. About how he's glad she said it — and he is.]

[But he gets caught up with just looking at her, mystified by the fact that he gets to be here holding her at all. It's that, and the emotional exhaustion, that fully kills his filter. His voice is genuinely awed when he speaks.]

Your eyes are so . . . pretty. [Girl . . . beautiful. Wow.]

[The silence preceding that statement would be worrying if not for the fact that his emotional pulse is still so sedate. As it is, she just returns his gaze wonderingly, intent and slightly curious. She can tell that she hasn't disturbed the calm, but she can't read his mind.

Those pretty eyes go a little wide, a fraction of a second passing before a giggle escapes her slightly parted lips. Her face predictably begins to heat.] That's—

[And the way he says it, so soft and sincere. No one's ever said anything like that to her before. She really might die.] That's way too romantic!

[What? He blinks. Slowly.]

It is?

[It's just a fact, though? Still, that grin starts to pull at his lips again.]

Shit, if just saying stuff that's true it romantic, I can handle that. I'm gonna be the most romantic guy ever.

Yeah, super romantic! [The inherent romanticism of complimenting someone's eyes!

She fidgets a bit with the back of his shirt, trying to will away the blush in her cheeks (and failing.)] You're already the most romantic guy I know.

[Sorry to the many boys she knows who are probably more romantic.

Actually that's probably just Ferran. Sorry to Ferran and Ferran only.]

[Pfft. Even he knows he's not that romantic. Not as romantic as Ferran, for sure. Ferran is top tier romance.]

[Still, after some thought, he'll allow that this is pretty romantic. There's romance in shared exhaustion and frustration; in decompressing after the world piles on too heavy for one afternoon. For goofy moments in the middle of it all.]

[So maybe he'll go one step further. Since they still haven't said it.]

Hey.

. . . I love you.

[Yeah, there it is.

It's easy to rile her up with a compliment, but he knows by now that really cracking her open can be a lot harder. Granted, it's easier nowadays. Particularly for him. Vulnerability creeps into the corners as she bites down on the tender smile trying to show through, open adoration in the way she looks at him.

It's not like she doesn't want to say it. On the contrary—it's almost like it's too much to say. Like the words are inadequate to describe the magnitude of feeling in her chest.]

I love you too.

[Worth it to say it anyway, though.]

[Mista, in contrast, doesn't try to hide his smile. She says she loves him, and his face splits into the widest possible grin, bright and beaming. Not quite the sun, but close enough.]

Yeah?

[It's reflexive, a syllable to let out for the sake of an outlet to carry his tone: joyful, delighted. He thinks about saying it again — well, I love you too, I love you more — but he's smiling too wide to speak. So tired, but so happy.]

[Love feels good. After all that anger, it feels like it's healing him from the inside out.]

Later, I'm gonna kiss you all over your face.

[Again, that overwhelming summery feeling, and that grin might as well be the sun for the way it shines off of Sayori's heart. She can try as hard as she wants to rein in her goofy smile, but there's no hiding the smitten longing in her eyes, and a sigh works its way out of her like a pressure valve for the too-much love in her chest.] I could probably write a million poems about your smile.

[Well, she didn't totally mean to say that out loud, but she's tired and she's had enough of thinking before she speaks today. And anyway, it feels good to say it, releasing more of the pressure on the massive bloom of affection inside of her.] But yeah. You totally should.

What!

[Gross! He goes red and . . . retaliates by pinching her cheek. Lightly.]

No way, you've got the best smile! You've got the best smile of anybody ever! It's cute as hell! So I don't even wanna hear it, lady.

[Cheek yank.]

[Gross.]

Bwuh—

[So rude!! And then the yank! Double rude!!!

Predictably, she whines. Her face is warm and rosy even as it's being pinched. Actually the pinching is probably contributing to that.] Hey! You said I had pretty eyes so I can say whatever I want!

[She flicks the tip of his nose gently in...counter-retaliation. Yeah.]

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