dreams (are for people who are sleeping)
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Here, fingertips red, warmth dripping to pool sluggishly in his palm, staining between his knuckles in ruddy ribbons; here is where he stops. And he asks himself;
What am I trying to kill, really?
**deleted scenes over at my writing blog check 'em
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- Part 1 of dreams (are for people who are sleeping)
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"And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long."
This is not a bad day, he thinks, making his way up the stairs, this is a normal day, a day squeezed between two days of the same, and Kuroo knows not how long he has been drowning, a little at a time. He has nothing to measure what he feels inside against, no rulers or weights or references, only which that he feels, and he knows that, pound by pound and meter by meter, he is sinking.
(or, Kuroo is a little more than in love with Bokuto, and a little less than coping with his past)
Series
- Part 2 of dreams (are for people who are sleeping)