[Hajime doesn't resist having his arm tugged away from his eyes, though he does kind of give Ryuji a bit of an exasperated look. Again with the breach of his personal space, the casual familiarity. He doesn't know if he'll ever get used to it... but there's a part of him that would like to. That it's not bad to have that kind of connection to someone.
His heart thuds uncomfortably in his chest at what Ryuji's saying, though. Don't have regrets... is it? It's powerful in a way he can't describe, like permission to just do whatever he wants to do. Screw anyone who says he can't, because he's ordinary. Because once he goes back... if Ryuji's right, if they will go back to when they left, then it's already too late. He's already signed himself over to them. Because even if he can try to live without regrets here... there's no way he can do it at home.
He opens his mouth to say so, but Ryuji's already continuing, and his heart beats a little faster. A mystified,] Eh? [slips out before he can silence it.
Then he laughs, trying to mask the flush that's coloring to his cheeks.] You only get to say that if you know it goes both ways, you know.
[It's true, the closest Hajime can come to admitting it right now. Without Ryuji, he'd... well, he'd not be in the kind of mental state he's in right now, willing to take small steps to push the envelope in ways he's been denied. Maybe that's not totally a good thing, because it reminds him what he can't have at home, but right here, on this station, it's...]
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His heart thuds uncomfortably in his chest at what Ryuji's saying, though. Don't have regrets... is it? It's powerful in a way he can't describe, like permission to just do whatever he wants to do. Screw anyone who says he can't, because he's ordinary. Because once he goes back... if Ryuji's right, if they will go back to when they left, then it's already too late. He's already signed himself over to them. Because even if he can try to live without regrets here... there's no way he can do it at home.
He opens his mouth to say so, but Ryuji's already continuing, and his heart beats a little faster. A mystified,] Eh? [slips out before he can silence it.
Then he laughs, trying to mask the flush that's coloring to his cheeks.] You only get to say that if you know it goes both ways, you know.
[It's true, the closest Hajime can come to admitting it right now. Without Ryuji, he'd... well, he'd not be in the kind of mental state he's in right now, willing to take small steps to push the envelope in ways he's been denied. Maybe that's not totally a good thing, because it reminds him what he can't have at home, but right here, on this station, it's...]
Thanks, Ryuji.