[ The hand in his hair travels down his back and sets itself over his hip, fingers splayed out against his spine to draw him forward - twisted sheets and all - until they're pressed up against each other like before. ]
I'd like that.
[ Leaning forward, Shouto presses his lips against the star on his forehead, reminded of the night sky. ]
no subject
I'd like that.
[ Leaning forward, Shouto presses his lips against the star on his forehead, reminded of the night sky. ]
Good-night, Allen.