In love and it's blinding.
"You're too good to me, Seiji." Over his plate and as effortless as a breeze.
"It's only because I love you."
The words slip out and Seiji doesn't regret them.
Then he does regret them. A flippant excuse so utterly—devastatingly!—divests the words of their meaning.
It's a terribly efficient autopsy.
Typical Matoba Seiji.
He should stop talking. Right now.
But ever so fondly, he swallows up whatever Seiji has to say next, his lips on Seiji's—caramelized apple, vanilla bean, golden sugar. It's an acquired skill, surely. That Shuuichi can see right through him.
That is what is terrifying.
"Going out?"
"Be right back."
"Okay, love you."
Not every time but it gets easier.