Dance

Their movement kind of awkward. And Haizaki’s hands keep trembling.

Haizaki cant contain the amount of embarassment he feels right now, no, no one can see this, it’s humiliating. He’d rather burned alive in the bottom pit of ground rather than having someone knowing that he, Haizaki Shougo, is dancing with his captain. Yes, Nijimura Shuuzou.

Their height difference make he half-heartly be in the woman position.  He felt Nijimura’s hand roaming over his back, pulling him closer into his body, it’s warm, it feels nice.

“Nijimura” Haizaki murmurs.

He doesn’t answer, instead lazily move his hand from Haizaki’s back into his waist.

Haizaki still cant believe it, both of them dancing in the middle of the night, in the back of the gymnasium when there’s exactly no one, just he and Nijimura and the chilling wind and the shy ray of moonlight, with Nijimura’s earphone hanging between their ears, use it in your right ear and i will use it in my left so it won’t fall, said him.

They dance through some old jazz song, Haizaki remember that it’s the kind of music Nijimura loves the most. It’s sweet and romantic, yet bitter and left some sting in his heart. Just like what Nijimura did to him a moment ago.

Nijimura stroke his hair, moving his right hand into Haizaki’s neck, gently brush his right ear while Nijimura’s other hand separating Haizaki’s bang, showing him Haizaki’s forehead, giving a quick kiss on it.

“Never ever leave me, or I will crush your body into a tiny pieces of shit” Nijimura said with a croaky voice, sounds so needy, so desperate. Haizaki never hear someone say that for him before.

Haizaki put his head into Nijimura’s shoulder, hiding his redden face, after all he still have pride to not show that bastard this kind of face.

And he feel like he about to explode. Even so, he will give his anything, if its possible to make this night last forever.

———

also archived this in fanfiction.net » here

And now I understand you

2tbsofirony:

hesawitonthetelevision:

a poem-comic by Cat

themagiccane:

Never be ashamed of the fashion style you like
Never be ashamed of the type of music you like
Never be ashamed of the TV shows you watch
Never be ashamed of the movies you like
Never be ashamed of what you draw
Never be ashamed of what books you like
Never be ashamed of your ships
Never be ashamed of being you

I Once Dated A Writer and

undeadlife:

Writers are forgetful,
but they remember everything.
They forget appointments and anniversaries,
but remember what you wore,
how you smelled,
on your first date…
They remember every story you’ve ever told them -
like ever,
but forget what you’ve just said.
They don’t remember to water the plants
or take out the trash,
but they don’t forget how
to make you laugh.

Writers are forgetful
because
they’re busy
remembering
the important things.