[ When he's gripped by emotion, sentimentality, it's in the moment Hiruma blinks, remembers to inhale, that it's over.
He was right βΒ sometimes he really hated that about himself. Makise Kurisu didn't remember him, and opening the door to one insecurity let in several more. She was here, real; she bumped him, she acknowledged and spoke to him. But without the memory, Hiruma was just another face. A foreign one, something alien. So he looks away, down at his hand. ]
No. [ His voice is detached, expression schooled into something neutral. ] No, that'd be impossible, even with your stubbornness.
@ u@
He was right βΒ sometimes he really hated that about himself. Makise Kurisu didn't remember him, and opening the door to one insecurity let in several more. She was here, real; she bumped him, she acknowledged and spoke to him. But without the memory, Hiruma was just another face. A foreign one, something alien. So he looks away, down at his hand. ]
No. [ His voice is detached, expression schooled into something neutral. ] No, that'd be impossible, even with your stubbornness.