That box burned a hole in his pocket. Standing outside of Opéra de Lille, one foot proudly stepped forward while the other seemingly filled with cement.
Are you sure?
Of course I am.
What a time for internal conflict, already running fifteen minutes behind for the last show before the troupe moved again.
Maybe I should wait until the tour is over.
You know she'd prefer it if you asked while she's home.
Right. One last time to look at it on his lonesome, he fished the velvet wrapped box from his pocket, flipping it open.
"I thought." His sigh he regretted, assuming it was loud enough to hear from wherever you were in the home. From heavy breathing to a stiffening silence, he listened. Waiting to hear your steps come flying down the hall to his doors. Waiting to hear your 'Toshi? What's wrong?' muffled by the doors that separated the two of you.
It never came. Maybe you'd left the house, or you'd finally gone to sleep.
Either way, he was free to release his breath again, this time pressing him further into the covers as he lay sprawled out on his bed. Between two fingers, the band was pinched and stone reflected the soft hues of moonlight that poured from the windows. "I can't leave you lying just anywhere now, can I?"
Staring at the thing as if it would reply, it eventually felt as though it did. Wipe your hands clean of me already. "Right..."
He sat up suddenly. "Right."
Flicking on the light to his office, Yagi made his way over to the desk, fishing out that wedding invitation you said he'd gotten. In the few days it was in his possession it had already been buried under a pile of more things he'd yet to actually read.
Ol' buddy, ol' pal. A friend from years ago. Might read over the invite, "Good for him." Deciding to give him a ring later. Literally. Maybe he'd gotten his spouse to-be a ring, maybe he hadn't. Might shrugged, even if his friend did, perhaps he wouldn't mind giving his fiancée an upgrade.
Stacked on top of each other, he set the ring and invite in his desk drawer, sliding it shut. As his fingers slid away he paused. Maybe not. He opened the drawer again, taking up the velvet box, eyeing around his office. There.
That's when he heard your voice, as he hid that damned thing for the third time now. Were you talking to someone? He slid out of the office, your laughter leading him to your room door you left cracked open. Might's head tilted looking over the headset that rested over your eyes. Your giddy voice replying to others he could just barely hear from the headphones over your ears. What are you wearing? He noted the rings of black on your wrists and ankles. Why were you wearing all that and work out clothes? And what was that in your hand?
"What song are we doing next?" You asked whoever you were speaking to. "No, no, I hate that one." You laughed again, turning on what you held. It lit up red on both ends. Ah, it's one of those sabers. Yagi nodded, still watching as you finally decided on a song. Brows once raised in intrigue now knitted tightly in confusion watching you move. No. He shook his head. No, how long were you able to do that? The television was just barely in view, he saw you hit every incoming block from that game you were playing, jumping and dodging, swinging this staff over your head and around your body with too much precision for comfort and then you had the nerve to rock on on beat while you did it.
It took a while, but he pieced together who you were talking to, or at least one of the people you were talking to. It was your brother. Other than his singing being heard over the sound bar, he'd protested every option for his choice of city pop. Back to you, he hadn't figured out when he'd bring it up, but he saw you linger in the air a bit too long after a jump.