Prompt: Normal

Disclaimer: Don't own. Never will. I resign myself to fate.

Author: Rokutagrl

Chartacters: Koushirou, Taichi

Pairings: Taishirou

Warning: uhm…. Not much….?

Note: I haven't written in a while due to school and bussy ness ness, so I decided to write this story that has been in my ipod BEFORE I rush off to give a performance reading poetry in an hour X_x I will probably upload another drabble tonight :D

PS: I have written all of chapter five for Inanities, except for one flowy part. As soon as I have more time I shall edit and upload. I WILL NOT BE LEAVING IT UNDONE! :D

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Normalcy

It's normal to be lying here on your bed, limbs and torsos so twisted we could make a cobra green. Resting one cheek against the cool contours of your pillowcase that defines the shape of my body. It's normal to think that perhaps this is the only use your bed ever sees, because I have yet to see you sleep when a computer is so accessible. But you're with me, so why should something so tangible get in the way?

I've never seen you so animated before, gesturing to a ceiling that could care less about the makes and changes of space explorations. Or the chemicals one might find so far from where the eyes can see. I only partially understand every other word you say, and you only partially care that I don't. It's normal to let it be as it is.

But when my nose finds comfort in the cool nape of your neck, I'm surprised to hear the uproarious laughter that splits my ears and brings an end to our casual afternoon lessons. The stubble from a few nights lacking a good shave tickles where the skin is delicately made. You choke on bits of my hair and I'm careful not to rub too harshly in case I might accidentally burn ivory pigments.

It's too soon when you yell your defeat, pushing against broad shoulders to relinquish the weight. You're not strong enough to push me away, but I'm strong enough to make you think you are. The pillow doesn't feel so cool any more—but almost too hot for the room to allow. You're facing me, and I'm facing you, and there's a normal quiver in the parting of my lips because they delight so much in your approximates. And the stars that expand endlessly through your eyes settle somewhere in my chest. In a cavity I cannot define, like the words you choose to spout oh-so-frequently.

It's normal that we pull apart to detail our separation. To give the serpent back its scales and let the world acknowledge we're two apportioned beings. I can't see your face from where my cheek rests against the pillow, for the first time today. It's cooler on this side, but only in comparison to the heat it must compensate, and I'm struck so hard by the normalcy of this situation.

It's normal, because we're not in love.