Can't touch me, like Gojo—Look good in all my photos
Light dances around the room with her nods, the sequins bouncing it around in a distracting enough quality that it gives him something to glance at whenever he's inclined to clench his teeth tighter. "Well, sure," he agrees, one arm unfolding to swoop and carve the air with emphasis as he talks. "I'm not new to secrets, I know I can't run around talking to everyone about them, or even the people who told them to you. This one mattered though Flora. Talking to Astaroth was important." His hand gives up on conducting air and ruffles through his hair with a fresh dose of uncertainty. "I mean, don't you agree? Wouldn't it have been just as bad to steal Astaroth's thunder? It's not like I was telling other people, or talking about it for no good reason."
He huffs in response to her sigh and the tightening of her meaning, disagreement shaking his head faintly, spaghetti wobbling in defiance. "Why not?" he demands. "If it didn't actually tip him off, then what harm did it do? I was helping!" The path to hell is paved with good intentions as they say, and here he is descending to the flames (or the frost?).
What he expects from her then, when he reveals how Danta had upset him, is so dismissive that it immediately rankles him. Then the snap cracks out, like she's correcting a disobedient animal, and his own head jerks back now with the force of the disbelief. Despite the ridiculous fish-eating frame around the stern look of her, he can't escape the way newfound hurt blooms. "So, what, that's it? Just your good friend, who can come stay in your house for days or weeks, can want to fuck you—can have that be their happiest idea of you—and that's fine? That's just something I'm supposed to ignore?" His tone has steadily crept up in volume, the incredulity trumpeting louder.
"He ASKED Flora! He wanted to know why I was upset, which I would have thought you might have done too!" He's shoved off the wall now and starts to pace, pipe-cleaner noodles swaying with each footstep. "I can't believe you're only defending them. It wasn't like I just walked up and told him that their relationship sucks, all I said was if he loved Astaroth, then Astaroth should be enough, he shouldn't want to fuck you, or even see you that same way anymore." The struggle to understand why this isn't just easily agreed with is real. Kaisel does not mean to condemn how others live their lives, but his understanding of love is the way he's known it, and the idea that her friend could still see her in that light feels like a threat.
He huffs in response to her sigh and the tightening of her meaning, disagreement shaking his head faintly, spaghetti wobbling in defiance. "Why not?" he demands. "If it didn't actually tip him off, then what harm did it do? I was helping!" The path to hell is paved with good intentions as they say, and here he is descending to the flames (or the frost?).
What he expects from her then, when he reveals how Danta had upset him, is so dismissive that it immediately rankles him. Then the snap cracks out, like she's correcting a disobedient animal, and his own head jerks back now with the force of the disbelief. Despite the ridiculous fish-eating frame around the stern look of her, he can't escape the way newfound hurt blooms. "So, what, that's it? Just your good friend, who can come stay in your house for days or weeks, can want to fuck you—can have that be their happiest idea of you—and that's fine? That's just something I'm supposed to ignore?" His tone has steadily crept up in volume, the incredulity trumpeting louder.
"He ASKED Flora! He wanted to know why I was upset, which I would have thought you might have done too!" He's shoved off the wall now and starts to pace, pipe-cleaner noodles swaying with each footstep. "I can't believe you're only defending them. It wasn't like I just walked up and told him that their relationship sucks, all I said was if he loved Astaroth, then Astaroth should be enough, he shouldn't want to fuck you, or even see you that same way anymore." The struggle to understand why this isn't just easily agreed with is real. Kaisel does not mean to condemn how others live their lives, but his understanding of love is the way he's known it, and the idea that her friend could still see her in that light feels like a threat.
Kaisel
Sexy jutsu, I feel like Naruto—Fightin' demons in my head like I'm Itadori
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
