byahoooo | (no subject)

(no subject)

[ This seems to happen too often.

Byakuran knows a lot of things, knows a lot because he can't not know a lot, but he doesn't particularly understand this no matter how many times he thinks he about it. The switching worlds and cities constantly is beginning to give him a mild headache, and he's never a pleasant person to be around when that sort of thing starts happening.

He gets a little cranky, maybe.

( And he's a patient, patient man, but his patience is limited. )

It's just another city. It's a city like all the rest of them, quiet and unfamiliar and annoyingly desolate, and he stands in front of a small shop, tapping bare fingers against the cool pane of glass. ]

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[ And this Byakuran is here longer than he has, wandered more, and noticed -

- ooh, candy.

The door next to the cranky future overlord of the world tinkles open, and Byakuran steps out with a pleasant smile and a song in his heart, hands full with candy of all shapes and sizes, including an obscenely colorful, large lollipop that would make you wonder - "how the hell do you actually eat that?"

A brilliant splash of color in the gloomy streets, and Byakuran greets the other - as if they had done this too many times for one to count - bouyant and perky. ]

Oh, well. Hello!

Hello, me.

[Byakuran's smile can put even the peppiest cheerleader to shame - then again, you really wouldn't like to see him when he's angry, do you? - and so he goes over, paperbag rustling with his movements. ]

Hello, myself. [ He hums lazily, giving him a swift once-over before going over to kiss his cheeks in traditional greeting. ] You're the endearingly moody one.

Am I?

It must be the awful weather.

[ Laughs and unwraps a lollipop, letting him straighten him out as he observes him. He's sharper than most give him credit for, and he simply holds out the blood red candy to him. ]

No, it's not. [ Pleasantly, because you should know who you're talking to, and you can't ever really lie to yourself. ]

It's strawberry flavored.

You're so generous, Byakuran.

I think it might rain.

You're just the exception.

[ He looks upwards, fingers curling with Byakuran's. He's missed this, this easy closeness, and he squeezes lightly with a smile. How much much like himself that other is. After all, who loves him better than his own self?

Following along, he asks, moving closer for a bit of warmth - someone's forgotten to take a thicker coat along today. ]

Do you think so? It warrants a photograph, this.

It's nice, isn't it?

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