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“you want to . . . talk?”
his dynamic with kiyoshi was more . . . bitter enemies than the other seemed to realise —— it was like he had missed the memo and still kept trying to be friendly.
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he likes the troubled expression, but honeyed words would not sway him —— he cares little about sweet words of ‘having fun’ out there during matches.
“doubtful,” but there’s a careless gesture for the other to continue.
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ah, fabled ‘uncrowned kings’, that’s what they’re called isn’t it? the point guard despises it really, what a title to those unworthy, aside from him of course.
“what a shame,” hatred in every word, “maybe next time.”
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“ so you do know my name, ” a laugh leaves her. granted, she's attempting to not get too giggly.
can't have him knowing it made her /THAT/ happy in the slightest, now can he?
@pinkweap "i'm not being sarcastic," he returns, all feigned innocence, and his fingers scuttle to close around her chin, directing her gaze back to the book and the page in question. "going to answer, princess?"
@crimsonrulings ›› scraping, brushing lint from his cuffs.
"well, you have fun with that," feigning cordiality, "i have places to be, people to see." read : the patient that's causing such commotion.
@crimsonrulings ›› turn his stomach.
he gathers the words that manage to breach into the space between them, and his head slowly lulls, rusted iron fixing on to the ceiling, to the hospital room above. his lips quirk in a smile, and he pushes up from the chair, legs ››