Plastic Taste { Joji a.u. }

the one where they're on a thin line

It was morning, now.

They were still close together. 

George had Emi wrapped up in his arms, and Emi had her arm around his stomach, her face buried in his neck. 

They were both awake, but neither was aware of this fact. 

They both wondered what had happened to the mornings like this. 

The mornings full of unity, where they felt like one person. 

Had it been soiled by the  distance?

They didn't know.

Emi took in a deep breath. 

She was in his arms. 

It was all she ever wanted. 

He had her in his arms. 

It was all he ever wanted. 

Why was this situation so simple, yet so damn difficult at the same time?

George readjusted his head so that his lips could touch the top of Emi's head. 

He kissed her head gently. 

"How long have you been awake?" she asked delicately. 

"Half an hour. You?" his voice was soft but raspy. 

"Same." 

"What are you thinking about?" He asked. 

"Do you want the truth?" 

"Yes."

"You."

"Oh."

"What?"

"Nothing."

She sat up to look at him. 

He stared at her with soft eyes. 

"What?" She persisted. 

"I was thinking of you." he replied, looking away.

Emi didn't know what to say.

So, she awkwardly laid herself back down against his chest.

"How long are you staying?" She asked.

"Staying, in Japan?"

She nodded.

"Summer."

Emi sighed.

"But how long?"

"As long as you want me."

Emi closed her eyes.

"You might never leave."

George didn't smile.

He wanted to. The comment sent warmth flowing throughout his chest.