[ no, not really -- and if he carries any snapshot flash out of this daze, let it be this: shiro's fingers in ghostly lines, his summer-real warmth. the way he leans into the touch like he's been starving, like he still doesn't know any better. ]
. . . I'm not waiting, next time.
[ that it isn't the uncertainty that gets to him, the odds of loss, but the distance: planets and cosmic dust littering the endless stretch between them. ]
no subject
. . . I'm not waiting, next time.
[ that it isn't the uncertainty that gets to him, the odds of loss, but the distance: planets and cosmic dust littering the endless stretch between them. ]
If you don't come back, I'm coming to find you.