[He brackets his arms against Akira's as an afterthought, since if Akira is this determined to keep hold of him he should at least consider holding himself up, but-- Well, he's pressed into the counter, he probably couldn't be positioned much differently if he tried. It won't stick-- he doesn't think it'll ever make sense, not really. Even years down the line he'll still have episodes like this, where he won't be able to convince himself this is real, or true, that he's just waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's laughable that he allowed himself to drift so far away from that fear in a mere three days.]
[He holds his breath while Akira talks, like he's too afraid to inhale or exhale because he might miss something. He might miss where Akira says what he's expecting him to, says anything about getting rid of him. But he doesn't, it's all about wanting him, about keeping him. About never letting him go. And he wants to be upset about it, be apologetic for it never clicking into place and making sense, but that doesn't happen, either. His lungs burn well before Akira stops talking, but he still holds his breath, until the counter behind him digs into his ribs enough that it feels like it's cutting into him, even through the hoodie.]
[He draws in a breath that's too shallow for having held his breath for that long, and his vision swims a little with it, the grip he has on Akira's arms slackening. He shakes his head slowly.] I don't... think there's anything I can say to that.
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[He holds his breath while Akira talks, like he's too afraid to inhale or exhale because he might miss something. He might miss where Akira says what he's expecting him to, says anything about getting rid of him. But he doesn't, it's all about wanting him, about keeping him. About never letting him go. And he wants to be upset about it, be apologetic for it never clicking into place and making sense, but that doesn't happen, either. His lungs burn well before Akira stops talking, but he still holds his breath, until the counter behind him digs into his ribs enough that it feels like it's cutting into him, even through the hoodie.]
[He draws in a breath that's too shallow for having held his breath for that long, and his vision swims a little with it, the grip he has on Akira's arms slackening. He shakes his head slowly.] I don't... think there's anything I can say to that.