Yang sighs, feeling disoriented. He still doesn't quite get his feelings right now. Yin's reactions to him affect him far more than they should. What unsettles him even more is how natural it feels. He doesn't like it, he feels like a girl.
He sighs again and leans on the bed mattress.
He knows he shouldn't feels so weird having these emotions, but he's never had to deal with this in the wake, and it's always been easier when it's just him and an asleep Yin late at night. It's hard because, one way or another, his nightly ritual has become part of his system, and what's happening is nothing short of the disparity. And, for all that is the blue rabbit, he likes the accustomary.
This…this is getting out of hand. He knows he may as well just accept it, whether forcefully or otherwise, but it's getting deeper and it's…wrong…and stupid…and all that other crap one can associate with his current state. He rubs the half of his face with his right paw. He realizes he's getting tired easily, and yet it's as if his body—or heart, or mind, or whatever else is forcing this on him—doesn't want him to rest and it's all just getting infuriating.
He glances at the window and notices that the moon is almost at its place when Yang decides to go to Yin's room. He pulls himself up. His life is a routine.
He stays there, sitting on his bed, before his feet decide that it's time and pull him to the room a couple paces away. He opens the door without so much as a creak. He doesn't like change.
The chair is dragged and everything is silent, is still, and the leaves rustle and Yang dully notes it's almost Autumn. He's not ready for the shift he knows is bound to happen.
And then Yin breathes listlessly into her pillow and Yang's eyes flicker to the slight spike of her hair. Maybe he's imagining things, but she looks as stressed as he feels, which is a lot less than what he's phrasing out, but it counts as something, there's still the significance.
Maybe if…maybe if he stopped... Maybe if he tried change. Maybe something will happen. Maybe he'll stop worrying. Maybe it'll get better.
Maybe he'll move on.
He thinks it's unlikely because, for all the pride and sassiness she has, Yang's…(he can't say it, not now, maybe not for a while)…for her, arrogant cheekiness and all that.
But it's a step, he figures. It's a step he has to take, if he wants himself to get better.
And then it's decided. Yang wants to stop at this madness and feel normal again, so he will. He will stop this madness.
Really, Yang, what are you trying to get yourself into? Gawd, it's almost like you're running away, but I guess not. Not entirely the bravest route you could take (not quite sure of it's effectivity in your part yet) but, eh, whatever, you're Yang. I'll forgive you.
SO. I totally ignored my previous end note and decided to got to hell with it anyway. Atleast I hope this clears a bit of his OOCness and all in the last chapter. Or, you know, not.
Yay! Double update for you in apology.
This chapter is so unbelievably short it's hard to grasp that such a huge change is caused in here.