Insanity
they both remembered Gin saying once, that love was a type of insanity. His eyes at the time, though only slightly open, had been directed at them. By now neither of them would admit, that yes it was insanity. And they were gladly, happily, deeply insane.
For each other.
What a stupid thought. But the insanity was an unsatisfiable burn, and so cold and tingling and everything fluffy and fake like that. And the thought of either ever being in trouble, they knew they would come to the other's rescue. The moments of quiet peace, neither would trade it for anything in the world.
So if this was insanity, they'd gladly sink deeper.
Owari
