[Ignore him. The message pounds in his head, in time with the demon's footsteps stalking towards him, in time with the heartbeat nestled firmly in his throat. Ignore him. No matter how much he got angry, he wouldn't budge. He wouldn't even respond. Chikusa tries to tell himself this, even as he can tell from his periphery when Mukuro comes to a stop right in front of him. Desperately on repeat, the words continue even when his chin is taken- and so horribly gently, more gently than anyone else in his life. Biting back a shudder, he can't- doesn't- stop the way his head is guided.]
[Sometimes he wishes the demon didn't look at him this way with eyes deeper than the ocean and about as suffocating. More than 'sometimes', he wishes the words which slip out from his silver tongue couldn't have such an effect on him, but they do. He knows it's wrong- a normal person shouldn't feel electricity shoot down their spine and curl in their stomach at the idea of being owned with nothing else to their name but their connection to another person. That goes double, for a priest to a demon. Yet thinking of being trapped somewhere, seeing Mukuro and only him, relying on him...]
[He can't tell what's worse: wanting that so badly, or thinking that it's barely different from his usual life.]
[When Mukuro finally lets go, Chikusa lets out a breath he didn't know he had lost, and his arms wind a little tighter around himself.]
...Do you ever feel fear?
[Perhaps the murmured question is out of the blue, but it's one he feels is suddenly vital to this conversation. His eyes flick away, looking at anything but the demon, but he doesn't turn his head.]
no subject
[Sometimes he wishes the demon didn't look at him this way with eyes deeper than the ocean and about as suffocating. More than 'sometimes', he wishes the words which slip out from his silver tongue couldn't have such an effect on him, but they do. He knows it's wrong- a normal person shouldn't feel electricity shoot down their spine and curl in their stomach at the idea of being owned with nothing else to their name but their connection to another person. That goes double, for a priest to a demon. Yet thinking of being trapped somewhere, seeing Mukuro and only him, relying on him...]
[He can't tell what's worse: wanting that so badly, or thinking that it's barely different from his usual life.]
[When Mukuro finally lets go, Chikusa lets out a breath he didn't know he had lost, and his arms wind a little tighter around himself.]
...Do you ever feel fear?
[Perhaps the murmured question is out of the blue, but it's one he feels is suddenly vital to this conversation. His eyes flick away, looking at anything but the demon, but he doesn't turn his head.]