[It could very well not be Mukuro. Chikusa was aware of how illusions worked, even before he'd been jerked about through imaginary lives like a puppet on strings.]
[Yet something about the touch at his neck seemed to be enough to help settle at least something in his rattling mess of a being. In the absence of all else, he still followed Mukuro's voice, leaning into the fingers that slid through his hair and nudged at his hat. His shaking limbs made movement a bit tricky as he slowly curled along the rotten sofa, legs still half under Mukuro's.]
[Sleep wouldn't come easily after that, however. Too much energy, wrought by emotions that wouldn't stop despite his best efforts. His mutter sunk into Mukuro's thigh.]
I don't want any of it, Mukuro-sama.
[Emotions. His aggressive longing for apathy had, if anything, only worsened with Mukuro's help.]
no subject
[Yet something about the touch at his neck seemed to be enough to help settle at least something in his rattling mess of a being. In the absence of all else, he still followed Mukuro's voice, leaning into the fingers that slid through his hair and nudged at his hat. His shaking limbs made movement a bit tricky as he slowly curled along the rotten sofa, legs still half under Mukuro's.]
[Sleep wouldn't come easily after that, however. Too much energy, wrought by emotions that wouldn't stop despite his best efforts. His mutter sunk into Mukuro's thigh.]
I don't want any of it, Mukuro-sama.
[Emotions. His aggressive longing for apathy had, if anything, only worsened with Mukuro's help.]