"Have we met before?" Piercing grey eyes looked up at Shion – eyes which pierced his chest, their colour sending him through a momentary rush of emotion.
He could describe the sense as dé ja vu, and yes, maybe they had, maybe they had met before. The situation was cliché; Shion had been carrying bags of shopping up to his apartment when fate decided it was time for three out of the five plastic carrier bags to snap, leaving a pathetic pile of groceries and a puddle of Coca-Cola by his feet. The tall man with such deep navy hair and those exotic silver eyes had been passing by, and offered to help with a snide grin. Yet, Shion didn't feel uneasy. He did not feel bad intentions from the man who knelt at his feet, picking up anything he could save, his actions accompanied by a couple of sarcastic comments.
"I'm unsure," Shion stated truthfully. "What's your name?"
The man rose to his feet and to Shion's height again (and then higher), and took a look at the boy with strange snowy hair cupping his face and a salmon-pink scar brushing his cheek and wrapping his neck. The pair of them were a strange, yet enticing sight. Neither of them appeared to be the exact 'norm', as people may say, yet the thought did not occur to either of them. It was a confusing plough through the spectrums of silver eyes and rouge eyes before the metallic pair softened and his mouth formed the word,
"Nezumi."
"Nezumi?"
In a completely unexplainable chain of reaction, Shion rushed to grab one of the man's palms. Both of them jumped and recoiled a little in shock of the action, yet neither completely pulled apart or felt any particular offense. The man – Nezumi, took a second to gulp and gasp a few necessary gasps of oxygen before holding Shion's soft hand tighter. Neither knew what exactly was happening, all it was, was this. This was all. And perhaps, they could feel that this was instinct. This was their instinct.
Shion took a step closer, smiling a mischievous smile.
"No," he replied. "I don't believe we have ever met before."