Gun is not an easy person
Hate myself.
I hate it. I hate that whenever I get too emotional, whether it's happy or sad, I can't control my body. And look at how I look now. Tears are flowing like a broken faucet, but I still try to continue tying the tie for the person in front of me with great difficulty.
All the coolness I built up is gone. No matter what I do, it's not cool anymore. It's all Yotha's fault!
"Sob..." I was still sobbing. I wanted to bang my head against the wall until I died.
"Don't cry." The owner's voice was low and gentle. Saying it won't work on me. Angry.
"Who is crying?"
"Dog."
"That's the dog's business, not yours." He had said it before, "Everybody lives for themselves." So this time I responded. Let's see if it hurt as much. It really hurt. Huh!
Yotha did not defend himself. He stood still as if he was apologizing, which made me unable to scold him.
The screen of my eyes was blurred, and this time I could barely see the image in front of me. Therefore, it caused quite a bit of trouble in tying my tie. I was afraid that my uniform would get dirty if I raised my sleeve to wipe it. It was only the first day. It was a waste of time not looking good and having to miss the grand opening. Yotha seemed to have seen everything I was thinking.
"W...what are you doing?"
"Tears in my eyes like this, can you see it clearly?"
The other person opened his mouth to ask while raising his hand to wipe away my tears. The passive person immediately froze, only able to swallow the saliva down his throat as the slender fingers ran over my cheeks and eyelids. However, the more he wiped, the more it flowed.
"I'm not crying because I'm sad because you cursed me. Don't take yourself too seriously. I'm crying because I had a nightmare. I'm crying because the power went out suddenly."
"But still dream about me."
"Just a little dream. Just a little."
Normally, when I have nightmares, the story revolves around bad memories from my childhood, intertwined with wonderful imagination. One time I dreamed of a ghost in the storage room. Another time I dreamed of cows crawling under my feet. Or sometimes I dreamed of being locked in a dark place. The same thing over and over again. But last night was different, because in my subconscious, Yotha appeared.
...Not only that, it also chose to leave, leaving me alone in the dark storage room.
Everything was so mixed up that it was impossible to tell the difference. Because when I woke up, I suddenly realized that reality was not much different from the dream.
"It's done. Get your hands off my face."
The state of my tie might not be as neat as usual, but I think it's probably nice enough to keep me from being a heartless, dark person.
"Promise me you'll stop crying.
"What does it have to do with you?"
"You cry so much you have a headache now."
"Many stories."
"Promise..." A thick hand cupped my face and locked it, forcing us to look straight into each other's eyes.
each other.
"No. You never promised you wouldn't make me cry."
"I promise."
