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his lengthy eyelashes flutter in obfuscated blinks, the abstruse dream becoming a nebulous memory that was abundantly onerous to recall. it was embedded with a plethora of broad mist, enveloping the poor memory—no, was it a dream? a fantasy? a mere delusional scenery which his mind fabricated from the particles of despondent isolation? he didn't know.
was it a nightmare? was it a dream of immense joviality?—he had a sundry of inquiries, but it all seemed to dissipate. the tender sensation of a flower crown placed upon his head was a fond feeling he was unable to forget, how could one fail to remember the grandeur beauty of the flowers that was wreathed together as if it was a natural phenomenon? he was utterly speechless that someone would offer him such artistry, but who was it? who gave it? he wants to remember.
"i love you." the voice reverberates—but it was no act of confession. then what was it? simple. it was a definition of the flower that were coiled together; was it a rose? no, it was highly unlikely for it to be a rose. the flower was related to friendship, they had vaguely stated it.
"good evening, sleeping beauty." an individual stood at the door, their form leaning against the doorframe with a bowl in their hands. "you still look half asleep," they scrunch their nose with a snicker, sauntering towards miyamura, who was sitting at the edge of his bed; blinking befuddledly.
"here, i made you miso soup. its pretty average so don't expect it to taste like some five star chef's dish." [name] delicately placed the bowl on his varnished, wooden coffee table near his bed. as miyamura weakly chuckles at their remark.
[I had to fucking check episode 7 to confirm if miyamura actually had a table or not </3 srsly the effort i put into this book]
"you didn't have to."
"your welcome."
miyamura kneeled down infront of the table, inhaling the warm scent of the familiar dish, before indulging himself in the warm brew.
"ah, it is pretty average." miyamura glanced up to [name], who was seemingly watching him eat. as the ambience engulfs into one of cumbrous air, he couldn't help but sweat at the pair of eyes that scrutinized him. he finally lifts his head to glance at them, "uh, may I help you?"
they grinned, incling their head. "nothing, you're just really beautiful." miyamura's cheeks brightened, as he halted himself from any further movements, entirely dumbfounded.
"beautiful?—not handsome?"
[name] rose a brow, sticking their bottom lip in a childish pout. "why? is there something wrong with calling you beautiful?"
"no, its just slightly strange." he faintly waves his hand left to right, with a nervous chuckle. "oh, is that so? is it because you're a boy?" they perch their chin onto their palm. "to me, the term 'beautiful' applies to all genders."
miyamura coughed into his hands, before gazing down at his feet. "I see. but you're only attempting to flatter me, right? you don't need to, really."
"what? does he think i'm being fake as shit right now?" [name]'s brows knit together.
"no? of course not. its true, i found you oddly alluring and beautiful. heck, I want to look like you. you give me immense, gender envy!"
miyamura blinks, wondering what they meant by 'gender envy'.
he smiled fondly, cheeks brightening like a garden of fresh roses. "..thank you, [name]-san. its the first time someone has told me that."
"then i'll keep telling you that until you lose count. if no one says it, then I will!"
miyamura could feel his cheeks hurt from his wide grin.
"okay."
"Shindou, now I know what I think of miyamura—"
"I think he deserves the world."
sorry for the short chapter, this is just basically a filler.
also, i will be unable to update during tomorrow and the dah after that, since i'll be attending a personal event, please understand <3
WE'RE HAVING TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS GAME IM CTIJG
i love how my friend group's initial instinct is to think abt me and my wife when the word gay comes up