And Akira doesn’t know what it means, really, to let yourself be loved. So he tosses and turns and lets it get under his skin— he loves, but he cannot be loved in return. https://twitter.com/hqpairquotes/status/1315900615134937088

But Tobio is always there, anyway, and Shouyou follows like an interruption, a booming copy, paste in the midst of a sentence. And through them, Akira learns. He learns what it means to be loved, and love in return. To break down his walls and still his sleep.

To stare at the moon and not question it’s reason, to be painted shades of blood underneath skin by not one mouth, but two. And for every new mark they leave, Akira grows fonder. For every night no longer spent alone. For every new way of saying they love him.

Because they, like all the things that Akira once believed, are the sum of all things. Tobio and Shouyou and Akira. Always.