(no subject)
Who: Yousuke Hanamura (masukukunai), Souji Seta (pursuestruth), OPEN!
Where: Northern Lights Bar
When: May 18th, early evening
Rating: PG-13ish
Summary: Yousuke has a problem, so he's going to fix it the only way he knows how: By making a public spectacle of himself.
the log:
What the hell am I doing.
It was his first thought as he entered the bar. It was also his first thought when he left the apartment, several times on the way there, and twice again as he stepped in. This idea was ludicrous. Entirely ill-conceived. Social suicide.
But it was either this, or the alternative. And he was convinced now that it was worth it.
…After getting the literal and figurative crap beaten out of him by Chie, talking it over with Yukari, hours of agonizing, more hours alone, repeating what he meant to say to himself, feeling even more like an idiot-- but he knew.
Because the worst, out of all of it, was laying in the same bed with him, and somehow feeling cold. Trying to speak him, and only getting a monosyllabic vocabulary in return. Getting close, but being avoided by mere fractions of inches before he could touch. It only became more and more apparent that he had done something awful, but what more, that he didn’t want it to be this way. He wanted the opposite. He wanted…
But thinking and doing were two entirely different things. Looking into the room and seeing people, more than just Souji, more than just the workers-- He swallowed dryly. Again. What the hell am I doing.
--Anyways, where was he? Yousuke looked all over, but couldn’t find him. He walks into the middle of the floor now, wondering if he’d just missed him, or he’d decided to go home without working… Nah. They would have run into each other. He had to be here…
Where: Northern Lights Bar
When: May 18th, early evening
Rating: PG-13ish
Summary: Yousuke has a problem, so he's going to fix it the only way he knows how: By making a public spectacle of himself.
the log:
What the hell am I doing.
It was his first thought as he entered the bar. It was also his first thought when he left the apartment, several times on the way there, and twice again as he stepped in. This idea was ludicrous. Entirely ill-conceived. Social suicide.
But it was either this, or the alternative. And he was convinced now that it was worth it.
…After getting the literal and figurative crap beaten out of him by Chie, talking it over with Yukari, hours of agonizing, more hours alone, repeating what he meant to say to himself, feeling even more like an idiot-- but he knew.
Because the worst, out of all of it, was laying in the same bed with him, and somehow feeling cold. Trying to speak him, and only getting a monosyllabic vocabulary in return. Getting close, but being avoided by mere fractions of inches before he could touch. It only became more and more apparent that he had done something awful, but what more, that he didn’t want it to be this way. He wanted the opposite. He wanted…
But thinking and doing were two entirely different things. Looking into the room and seeing people, more than just Souji, more than just the workers-- He swallowed dryly. Again. What the hell am I doing.
--Anyways, where was he? Yousuke looked all over, but couldn’t find him. He walks into the middle of the floor now, wondering if he’d just missed him, or he’d decided to go home without working… Nah. They would have run into each other. He had to be here…