[For the love of- Chikusa’s eyes narrow, and he leans down to pull his pants back up so that he at least has a little dignity. It’s becoming a rare thing to possess, unfortunately, but he’ll at least try.]

You’re the last person who’d bemoan the loss of my virtue.

[Demons.]

[Finally leaving the entranceway of his home, he lingers at the threshold of his kitchen, unsure of what to do. He feels- too much, too tangled together, and he’s not even thinking as his mind tries to distance itself from everything else. His lips pure, just slightly.]

You’ve already told me the kind of things you want to do to me before.