[ Almost straight away, Tatara can feel the minute, fractional slump of his king’s shoulders beneath his touch, ever the roaring lion meeting the hand of its kind tamer. There we go, he thinks, breathing out as Mikoto does, it’ll be okay, King. Before pulling his hand away, he indulges himself a bit, letting his thumb make a couple swipes over the worn-thin cotton of the redhead’s shirt.
Still attempting to seek those bright yellow-gold eyes with his own of a distinct amber hue, he can see the discreet nuances about Mikoto’s features that tell of his unvoiced, internalized shock at all of this. ]
the bravest boy. (this is why he's dead. :v) also WHY THAT ICON UR SO RUDE
Still attempting to seek those bright yellow-gold eyes with his own of a distinct amber hue, he can see the discreet nuances about Mikoto’s features that tell of his unvoiced, internalized shock at all of this. ]
You’re surprised to see me here, aren’t you?