"Don't be so sour, Mello... " he was saying words, but his voice seemed elsewhere. He was picking at him with his fingers. Poking, tugging at clothes, pulling on his hair ends gently. Making sure he was real.
He was one step away from putting his cigarette out on his hand-- to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
No consideration. Cigarette smoke through the 'golden locks'. "Problem?"
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Date: 2010-12-13 05:48 am (UTC)He was one step away from putting his cigarette out on his hand-- to make sure he wasn't dreaming.
No consideration. Cigarette smoke through the 'golden locks'. "Problem?"