action and text; @bacura

[mellowyellow]

[It's late on the seventh when Masaomi wakes up on a church pew. At first, he can't bring himself to do anything other than stare at his hands. Slowly he raises them above his head, takes in the palms, flips them over, hesitantly touches the backs, slides his fingers down his own arms.

He's whole.

Suddenly, he digs his nails in. It hurts, and he pulls back, leaving harsh red marks. Masaomi sits up then, still staring like he can't believe his own senses.

He's not crying. You're crying.]


[It's not until the eighth that he sends out another text. No ominous snapshots this time.]

Didn't cut it as a carny.

Comments

[mellowyellow]

Yeah, thanks.

[He’s not sure what else to say as he perks up enough to plop an egg and some bacon onto his plate to start. It’s not until after he nibbles his way through his first bacon slab that he realizes exactly why he’s so at a loss for words.]

Do you usually cook breakfast for guys who tell you to fuck off?”

[mindofathief]

I don't always have a choice who I live with. [Wait.] But here its more like...I know who you are. You could use something nice after what happened. I'm not trying to get you on my good side.

[He scoops out some of the warm mush and plops it onto his own plate.] How much do you want?

[mellowyellow]

[That's definitely not a compliment, but it's not an insult either. He'll take it.

Masaomi holds out his plate for the next helping.]

The rest. I've never tried it before, so if you're gonna be this determined to give me something nice, I've gotta go all out.

[Wink!]

[mindofathief]

[Might as well let Masaomi try all of it. Duster scoops out all but one helping of meal. Any more would make the it spill off the plate.]

Eat up.

[mellowyellow]

Aye, aye, captain.

[He'll certainly try and wind up decently proud when he manages to clear a good three-fourths of his plate. The rest he'll take back up with him, a snack to shove down his throat the next time he wakes from a nightmare.]