[The choice is his? Takatora exhales, closing his eyes momentarily and concentrating on nothing but the idle tracing of Yoshitsugu's fingers and the sound of their shared breathing.
He never expected to have this. Two years ago it had been buried for good. Those years and these past months have changed his perspective. There is nothing but duty when all that you love is dead. He has done his duty; there is no duty here. Only...
Bracing his weight on his free arm, Takatora pushes himself up, suspending himself over Yoshitsugu. He dips his head, leaving mere inches between their faces. His heart pounds in his chest as his gaze seeks something in Yoshitsugu's expression, in Yoshitsugu's clever, lively eyes.]
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He never expected to have this. Two years ago it had been buried for good. Those years and these past months have changed his perspective. There is nothing but duty when all that you love is dead. He has done his duty; there is no duty here. Only...
Bracing his weight on his free arm, Takatora pushes himself up, suspending himself over Yoshitsugu. He dips his head, leaving mere inches between their faces. His heart pounds in his chest as his gaze seeks something in Yoshitsugu's expression, in Yoshitsugu's clever, lively eyes.]