[Alois comes to a standstill in the closet threshold, dress shoes hooked by the heels with the index and middle digits of one hand, and belt and tie draped primly over his other arm, in time to see that definition flexing gingerly, naturally, while the older youth moves to get the shirt from one arm to the next.
He's unfairly handsome, and Alois' eyes and mouth feel peculiarly dry, when he realizes that his instinct is to want to go up to him and cut himself on all that toned sharpness. But Miyuki's already repulsed by him, and he tells his legs, secretly, to stay or he'll break them later for disobeying him. Even more than his own sickness is their ordeal. What must this stranger think of a boy who's only going to make it worse?
It's not unlikely that he's wound up staring, and perhaps Miyuki's said or saying something, and his lashes flutter when he comes back, color warming a bit across small face.]
—These will do, won't they? [abruptly, arms jerking upward in gesticulation.]
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He's unfairly handsome, and Alois' eyes and mouth feel peculiarly dry, when he realizes that his instinct is to want to go up to him and cut himself on all that toned sharpness. But Miyuki's already repulsed by him, and he tells his legs, secretly, to stay or he'll break them later for disobeying him. Even more than his own sickness is their ordeal. What must this stranger think of a boy who's only going to make it worse?
It's not unlikely that he's wound up staring, and perhaps Miyuki's said or saying something, and his lashes flutter when he comes back, color warming a bit across small face.]
—These will do, won't they? [abruptly, arms jerking upward in gesticulation.]