the space between
#8
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Despite the fact that he tried very hard to be, Laruku was not completely oblivious to everything around him. He could see the shied away expressions and understood, to some extent, the things said with the lack of words. After all, there had to have been something that built up to the warmth of one night, even if they wouldn't talk about it anymore. Even if they couldn't. And he might have been satisfied to ignore it if it didn't seem to keep coming up, if they could only stop seeing each other, being by one another, being together. A thousand things should send them apart, but there they remained, standing in the same space, breathing the same air. And why? Why did they try so hard so half-heartedly?



Ahren... But Laruku didn't know what to say either because words could provoke so easily, because words sometimes meant more than they should, and because he didn't think there was anything that hadn't already been said before. What was there to ask or want for an answer? It didn't really matter in the end, if they weren't going to do anything about anything, if they both felt safer with the status quo. Too bad it was just so goddamn lonely that way. The hybrid kept staring towards the other's injured eye; it had been his fault the first time too.

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