Day 1: Holding Hands
It never got too old, the feel of those slender fingers wrapped loosely around his, nails meticulously trimmed and filed to perfection. Nezumi might have been a poor boy, living under the ruins of what used to be a city, in a room barely able to fit two people, but he was also not one to overlook personal looks.
Shion had learned this through- ahem- observations. Not through staring obsessively at the taller boy day in, day out and through the night. Even he wasn't that creepy. Of course not.
Coming back from his thoughts, the white haired boy looked down at their entwined hands, his slightly darker skin contrasting against Nezumi's pale one. The older boy was truly beautiful- from his steely grey eyes, to his cocky smirk and down to his very jaded core.
Chuckling at his small attempt at fancy poetry- he still had a long ways to go before he could even start comparing himself to the small poets from Nezumi's library- Shion ran his thumb across the back of the other boy's hand, smile widening when he heard a sleepy grunt from besides him.
"Go to sle-" a yawn interrupted him, "-eep, Shion," Nezumi blearily continued, scooting further down into the blankets, forehead leaning heavily against Shion's.
Red eyes rolling playfully, Shion settled down.
"Mhhm~ night, Nezumi," he whispered, risking an Eskimo kiss- noses touching feather light- before closing his eyes, giving one last smile at the tightening of the hand holding his.