[Lately, his dreams have been filled with white and gold, the flash of a razor blade, the soft flutter of turning pages. Steiner, he thinks vaguely, but the dream slips from his grasp like so much smoke.
Smoke and mirrors. That's what his life comes down to these days. For a few moments, Shinya remains sprawled out inelegantly, an arm thrown over his still-closed eyes.
Reality, though, can't be denied. Shinya knows the exact moment Gino will demand his attention again, can almost feel the words gathering in the air, and deliberately moves just before they can be uttered. The muscles of his bare chest shift as he pulls himself into a seating position, hands resting casually against the bed as he tips his head back to look up at Gino.]
Good morning to you too.
[Then he yawns and stretches, in a manner more befitting a hunting dog than any heir to a noble house.]
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Smoke and mirrors. That's what his life comes down to these days. For a few moments, Shinya remains sprawled out inelegantly, an arm thrown over his still-closed eyes.
Reality, though, can't be denied. Shinya knows the exact moment Gino will demand his attention again, can almost feel the words gathering in the air, and deliberately moves just before they can be uttered. The muscles of his bare chest shift as he pulls himself into a seating position, hands resting casually against the bed as he tips his head back to look up at Gino.]
Good morning to you too.
[Then he yawns and stretches, in a manner more befitting a hunting dog than any heir to a noble house.]
Where's the coffee?