{se} I wonder if I'll ever stop wondering

Hotaru

I don’t care, I’m in love
(Stop before it’s too late)

The reflection of the glass makes it hard to see him clearly which at first only worsens her panic, but the frantic beating of her heart slows a little the moment she feels his mind touch hers. It feels like agony to dive off the windowsill to provide him room to exit, gliding down and further from the brothel to the open field of flowers still stubbornly blooming in the early autumn, lit up like satellites by the fullness of the moon above.

There she lands and transforms back - equally unfit for company in her nightwear. Given how she has been thinking of him for days now, tonight that means the striped shirt she'd admitted to having stolen from him. It sags comically on her frame and conceals the shorts she's wearing beneath, standing barefoot in the flowers looking stranded and small. Hotaru had hoped it would help, that it might stimmy the urge to see him, but not only had she failed she'd failed so utterly that she'd flown here without even trying to change into something presentable.

Though he asks the question across the bond, she can't bear to have it fully open right now, and comes straight into his arms without a care for how he's trying to put himself together. "I think I'm, I'm, fucked up or broken or -" she immediately dissolves, any pretense of greetings or explanations fizzling away beneath the weight of her emotions. "I don't know. I didn't want to bother you, I didn't want to make this about me." Not when she has mistakenly framed this in her head as her being there for Sunjata, not the other way around. "But I didn't know where to go. I didn't know who to talk to." And it's clear by the way her voice wavers hard in the middle that tears are on the horizon if something doesn't happen.

And I still don’t know why it’s happening
(But I make the same old mistakes)