[ Miyuki hears him moving but doesn't look to see, focused on scouring each inch of each drawer as he moves down the set of them. But again, there isn't much there and it makes it all the more obvious when he doesn't see something useful, when he has to move to the next drawer, and the next, until they dwindle to the last.
Until he's crouching on the floor with nothing but his hands to help him.
Miyuki only looks back over at the sound of shifting fabric, with enough time to see the boy hiding himself. He creates an almost comical image, not unlike a child too young playing hide-and-seek that is unable to imagine the perspective of the seeker and see for themselves they only hide in their head.
It takes but a moment for him to realize the odd action is from embarrassment, and Miyuki allows him it as he listens to the attempt of an explanation. Now, it's all the more important to let him have his securities, as long as Miyuki can extract what he needs. It's not as though the way it muffles the younger boy makes his words any harder to understand than they already are as, for a moment, the vague language leaves Miyuki in complete confusion. But it continues and his brows furrow deeper, as though discerning an outline through a fog. Seeing the beginnings of something incredibly foreign to him, but which he can still recognize.
It was something... beyond the boy's control. Something he didn't want, that was too much for him. That overwhelmed him. ]
... What overwhelmed you?
[ Even his question pulls to free itself from the conclusion he's already drawn, mind lining it all up — the odd vacillations in the boy's behavior and snippets of his words. Though he desperately wishes it wouldn't fit so neatly.
Then he finds himself glancing to the thick words on the monitor again, and yet for the first time as he sees what it truly asks of him. He wasn't to cut a fresh wound, but to revisit one. The moment in which he waits for an answer, heat angry, sick, outraged boils up inside and all the logic of an analytical mind starts to fall apart. That can't be what the boy is saying, can't be what the monitor is ordering him do. This can't be happening.
no subject
Until he's crouching on the floor with nothing but his hands to help him.
Miyuki only looks back over at the sound of shifting fabric, with enough time to see the boy hiding himself. He creates an almost comical image, not unlike a child too young playing hide-and-seek that is unable to imagine the perspective of the seeker and see for themselves they only hide in their head.
It takes but a moment for him to realize the odd action is from embarrassment, and Miyuki allows him it as he listens to the attempt of an explanation. Now, it's all the more important to let him have his securities, as long as Miyuki can extract what he needs. It's not as though the way it muffles the younger boy makes his words any harder to understand than they already are as, for a moment, the vague language leaves Miyuki in complete confusion. But it continues and his brows furrow deeper, as though discerning an outline through a fog. Seeing the beginnings of something incredibly foreign to him, but which he can still recognize.
It was something... beyond the boy's control. Something he didn't want, that was too much for him. That overwhelmed him. ]
... What overwhelmed you?
[ Even his question pulls to free itself from the conclusion he's already drawn, mind lining it all up — the odd vacillations in the boy's behavior and snippets of his words. Though he desperately wishes it wouldn't fit so neatly.
Then he finds himself glancing to the thick words on the monitor again, and yet for the first time as he sees what it truly asks of him. He wasn't to cut a fresh wound, but to revisit one. The moment in which he waits for an answer, heat angry, sick, outraged boils up inside and all the logic of an analytical mind starts to fall apart. That can't be what the boy is saying, can't be what the monitor is ordering him do. This can't be happening.
He doesn't want to fucking believe. ]