[He stops fighting it, letting that boy's hands smush his face any which way he desired at this point. It's a fight he can't win, and it wasn't even against Ken himself. It was fighting his own ability to move on from this.
A soft touch of their foreheads, brown and black locks tangled together, both eyes closing...]
no subject
A soft touch of their foreheads, brown and black locks tangled together, both eyes closing...]
I know I'm not. [Alone, that is.] But it sucks.