[Kyouya swallowed hard at the sound of Tamaki's voice.
But he made himself keep walking. Step by step. Much as he hated himself with every step. He knew he needed to turn right around, needed to pound on the door until Tamaki let him in. Needed to say any and every phrase that would get Tamaki to smile a little. Something small.
He couldn't let himself do it.
Kyoua kept walking, all the way to his sick bay. He shut the door, braced his back against it, and slid down to sit. He opened his palm, looked at the small holes and the bit of blood he'd managed to draw. Nothing serious, nothing of actual consequence. Just an old habit flaring up, a way to get rid of everything on his mind.
He was alone. He was utterly alone. For the first time in two years, he was back at square one. No one to turn to.
[Private]
But he made himself keep walking. Step by step. Much as he hated himself with every step. He knew he needed to turn right around, needed to pound on the door until Tamaki let him in. Needed to say any and every phrase that would get Tamaki to smile a little. Something small.
He couldn't let himself do it.
Kyoua kept walking, all the way to his sick bay. He shut the door, braced his back against it, and slid down to sit. He opened his palm, looked at the small holes and the bit of blood he'd managed to draw. Nothing serious, nothing of actual consequence. Just an old habit flaring up, a way to get rid of everything on his mind.
He was alone. He was utterly alone. For the first time in two years, he was back at square one. No one to turn to.
Not even Fuyumi.
Not even Tachibana.
No one.]