Kyouya is the winter. You'll pass into his orbit and freeze - from fear or awe or something similar. He keeps you there for a while, deprives you of your information, then fades away, and you'll get the feeling back in you toes and fingertips.

He fades into Tamaki, who warms you up and reels you in while you're frozen there. Careful hands, strong soul, excited eyes. He's like pastel colors under bright flowers, like little kids going outside for the first time all season, like rolling down the windows in your car and breathing in the fresh spring air. He's like looking out the window in class and longing to be outside. Tamaki is the gentle side of the spring.

But Hani, he is the storm that sweeps through and washes everything away. He's both the storm itself and its aftermath. Hani is the water hammering down and the drops hanging on the leaves, sliding down into puddles. He is kind and sweet, but beneath that, he is hard and unforgiving and frightening to behold.

Together they are spring, and they are the most beloved and looked forward to. They warm you up and pull you in further and you can feel yourself getting trapped (but you don't really want to escape).

The twins will attack you next, yanking you to them - taking, not giving (not stealing either - you'd give it to them anyways). They are summer - they leave fires in their wake and if you stay too long, you'll get burned.

Hikaru is the days where if you move an inch, you'll break a sweat. He's anger and bitterness all bottled up (somewhere in there is softness, under the hurt), and it explodes out every once in awhile and it's too hot to move. Plants will wilt and tires will melt, and you will be burnt.

The best part about those days, though, is the relief you get when you jump into the pool. Sink down, close your eyes, hold your breath. He will cool down eventually. When he does, he will hold you hand and wrap himself around you and it's like walking on cool tiles, soothing your blistered feet.

Kaoru is the gentler summer days. The ones where you lay out on the grass, in the shade, pillowed by somebody's stomach. Where you open all the windows in your house. He's going down the waterslide and screaming all the way down; he's squirting your friends with water ad sprinting away; he's pushing your friends into the pool and being dragged in with them, water rushing into your laughing mouth. You're less likely to be burned by him, but it's happened before.

Together, they're going to the fair just as the sun starts to paint Takashi's face red and orange in the middle of July and having your thighs stick to the leather seats. Like how the sand scalds the bottom of your feet as you run into the water. Like being burnt by what you love the most (but that makes the apology all the sweeter).

Takashi is autumn. He's the leaves turning yellowredorange, turning sunset colors, and drifting slowly down. He's the scarf you wear when it starts getting colder, wrapped around your neck and hands. He's the blanket you pull out the the closet and throw on your bed, the socks you wear around the house, the gloves you keep in your bag. He is caution and warmth and comfort. He is your favorite (season).

(He's your favorite something else too, but you try not to think about that.)

(Just because you're trying not to think of something doesn't mean you're not.)

He's gentle like fall too - gentle hands, gentle heart, gentle eyes. He's careful when he touches you, a soft touch to steady you, another to get your attention, another just because he can.

He's gentle as he plays with your fingers, gentle as he sits at your feet, gentle as he hold your heart in his hands.

You can only pray - to your mother, maybe? - that you're as gentle with him as he is with you, as careful with him as he is with you, as loving to him as he is to you.

You hope you are the gentle spring to him, that you are soft and kind - but you you know you are not. You don't have any illusions about who you are, and you know you are not a gentle spring. Maybe you are a gentle summer. But you are not soft, you are not careful, but you are loving. Takashi love this, and loves you for this. This is why he will sit himself at your feel you you can run your fingers through his hair; this is why he pulls your hand into his at every opportunity; this is why he plays so gently with your fingers

No, you are not a gentle spring. You are everything - the winter, and the summer, and the spring, and also the fall. You are the summer storms and the spring showers, the winter freeze and the autumn chill. You are like splashing in puddles, like walking into the coolness of the library in the dead of summer, like crunching over snow, like the warmth of your scarf.

They are all of this and more, and so are you. You will remember this as the seasons pass, until you wake up tangled with Takashi and then you will no longer care what he is, as long as he's besides you. That is enough for you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LOVELY LIZZY! (aka MissHikaHaru, who keep slaughtering me with her updates. ur hurting my heart)

Hey, you know, technically, it's still your birthday here, babe, so I'm not late.