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Last time he left so abruptly, he didn't come back, but this time he told Eijirou to wait for him. Wait for what? He didn't know what to expect; they just returned from the States and the rest of their friends were most likely sleeping off their jet lag, yet Katski suddenly obtained the energy of two espresso shots as soon as he peeped the time. Eijirou shoved his toothbrush in his mouth, scrubbing the bristles across his teeth back and forth as he studied his reflection in the mirror.

Frowning at himself, he rinsed his toothbrush and spit the foamy toothpaste out of his mouth, splashing water around the basin afterward. Eijirou was itching to know what Katsuki was up to; the suspense of it all would probably kill him before his hunger pangs would.

"Oh, right..." Eijirou grumbled, his eyes falling down to his stomach, which grumbled in reply. He exited the bathroom and made his way toward the kitchen, surprised to see Denki sitting at the kitchen table with a bowl of rice. Denki perked up at the sound of his footsteps behind him.

"Oh, hey man!" Denki greeted through chews, waving his chopsticks at him. "I thought I was the only one up." He tilted his head as if he expected someone to be looming behind the redhead. Tapping the tips of his sticks against his chin, he swallowed. His brows twitched together. "Where's your other half?"

"Eh." Eijirou crossed over to the fridge, advancing their conversation as he rummaged through it. "He left a while ago... I dunno where he went, though. He just told me to chill here until he got back."

"Oh?"

Eijirou pulled out the box of cooked rice Denki was most likely munching on. Grimacing, he glanced back at the blond. "How old is this rice, dude?"

Denki waved a hand at him. "Don't worry, bro, it was in the freezer. I just defrosted it. Honestly, it shouldn't even be cold."

Eijirou investigated the rice, eventually deciding to take Denki's word for it. He closed the door to the fridge and grabbed a set of chopsticks from the utensil drawer before taking a seat next to him. He fluffed his rice with his chopsticks as he spoke. "He didn't tell me where he was goin' or anything. I don't know if I should be concerned or not."

"'Cause he might go Houdini on us again?" Denki huffed. "I doubt he has the energy for another disappearing act. But you said he told you to wait around here, yeah? That means he's comin' back."

"Yeah, you're right." Eijirou stuffed some of the fluffy rice into his mouth, leaning back into his chair. The two continued to talk about nothing in particular as they ate their meal, and once Eijirou reached the bottom of the box, he tossed it into the garbage and retreated to his room. Taking up the sketchbook leaned against the wall adjacent to his dresser, he sharpened a pencil and flipped it open to a blank page, centering the wide book on knees. Eijirou stuck the wooden pencil into his mouth and pulled his hair out of his face and into a loose low bun. He took his pencil in his hand again, tapping it against his chin, the tip of his tongue pressed between his lips as he contemplated what he should sketch. The first image that came to mind was the smoldering rubies gazing at him through thick lashes earlier in the day, and the point of his pencil met the thick material of the paper, instantly recreating the scene in black and white.

He hummed the melody of a couple of random Nicki songs, his head bopping softly as his mind entered a completely different dimension, oblivious to the sounds of granite scratching against the grains of the sheet. Eventually, his lips parted and he began crooning the lyrics to the songs, the thump of the beats sounding softly in his ears as if the song were actually playing.

His hand fell down towards the bottom of the sheet as he worked on adding the blond's body to the image, less than satisfied with the floating head staring at him from the center of the paper. He traced out the ruffles of his sweater, the piece of chest that had been visible from the neck; he added more depth to the image with shadows and contour lines, and ultimately, he adjusted the position of his pencil so that it was angled an inch or so off his paper, subtly adding deeper hues of grey and black to the shadows he already created, his hand light towards the edges.

One DanceOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora