Diabolik Thoughts

Speechless

Talk, he told himself, completely paralyzed. Talk, he repeated yet again, still unblinking and glued. Why would a single question screw his usually calculated thinking? How would the question "How do I look?." suddenly can't make him think straight? There you are in front of him, dressed in his shirt. You look at yourself, down at the rather over-sized shirt in your little figure, then up to meet his eyes. When you do, his red eyes are fixed to you. What does it mean, you became slightly conscious about your appearance. "Reiji?." You called. He kept his mouth hung agape, cheeks tainted a deep red. He didn't know his shirt in you can have him this breathless, didn't know how beautiful you can be even in his shirt. For a second he blinked, looking away as he faked a cough. You sigh at this. "I look bad, don't I?." You say, frowning as you turn your back on him and facing the mirror before you. "It suits you." He spoke silently. "I said it suits you." He repeated, hugging you from behind and placing his chin on top of your shoulder. In the glass you saw him smile. "Whatever you wear would look good on you, too."