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Ohno takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. His shoulders are tense. His arms won't stop shaking. It's like pinpricks, like the butterflies have vacated his insides and are dancing along his skin. He watches as Nino waits patiently for the next line, rubbing his chin with his fingers as he flips a few pages forward in the script and back again.
He waits until Nino looks up at him, expectant. And then he says it, with more feeling than he's ever put into any string of words in his entire career: "I love you."
Nino's hand stops moving, and his eyes shoot down toward the script. The look of confusion is gone before it settles. Nino blinks slowly, takes a breath, and looks back up again, and a small, knowing smile trickles across his face. Ohno can feel his stomach crumple, pushed in on all sides by the weight of his heartbreak until it's nothing more than a scrap of fragmented metal, sinking, sinking, sinking to the bottom of an empty ocean. In the back of his mind, he's glad that the butterflies aren't still in there.
Nino looks regretful and beautiful when he says, "That's not the line."
Ohno takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. His shoulders are tense. His arms won't stop shaking. It's like pinpricks, like the butterflies have vacated his insides and are dancing along his skin. He watches as Nino waits patiently for the next line, rubbing his chin with his fingers as he flips a few pages forward in the script and back again.
He waits until Nino looks up at him, expectant. And then he says it, with more feeling than he's ever put into any string of words in his entire career: "I love you."
Nino's hand stops moving, and his eyes shoot down toward the script. The look of confusion is gone before it settles. Nino blinks slowly, takes a breath, and looks back up again, and a small, knowing smile trickles across his face. Ohno can feel his stomach crumple, pushed in on all sides by the weight of his heartbreak until it's nothing more than a scrap of fragmented metal, sinking, sinking, sinking to the bottom of an empty ocean. In the back of his mind, he's glad that the butterflies aren't still in there.
Nino looks regretful and beautiful when he says, "That's not the line."
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