Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
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SEPTEMBER TWENTY THIRD, TWO THOUSAND AND TWELVE
15:13 in the afternoon
VEILS OF WHITE FABRIC covered only a small portion of a well-toned body, muscles rippling under unblemished skin. Lucious dark locks were pulled back into a half-bun, with strands of hair framing high cheekbones. His abdominal muscles sat on display, ready to entice famished gazes and plague a bunch of hormonal teenage minds. A gold-painted bracelet ring encircled his upper arm, clinging to the flesh where nimble fingers longed to graze.
Sora Suzuki looked exquisite, from his sharp jawline to his cerulean green eyes, which screamed of thundering depths, to his collarbones, which protruded like a bird imprisoned underneath tanned flesh. Standing on a wooden platform in the midst of the art classroom, his beauty paralleled that of the Greek Gods he was dressed up as.
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Simple, subtle meanings were scrawled over his body in dark ink: the proof was ever-so-present. The tiny animated turnip was covered by the cloth, the sleepy emoji, too. His hair covered the alien head, and nobody could see the small dinosaur on his back. Sora never went the extra mile to conceal them, particularly the one on his finger. He was proud of that one, and somewhere deep down, he was proud to show off the other markings as well.
"It's a shame you have a soulmate," Harumi Chiba sighed, brushing away a feigned tear.
( five soulmates, but ok ig )
Izumi Kamitani agreed with her club president. "Don't hit me up," she jested, a forced melancholic aura emitting off her body as she sniffled. "Only the real ones know."
To call their attraction love would be a mockery of their hearts, a symbol of their dying innocence. Rather, it was more of a surge of infatuation: the desire to have what could not be theirs, to tame what could not be tamed. Would they be able to clasp his wounded fingers and kiss his alcohol-drenched lips? Would they love his scars and scratched and dirty skin? Would they love his mind filled with anxiety and woe? Would they be able to love a monster who loves too deep?
