вlacĸqυιll:

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「忠実」 ;;   Simon returned the embrace fondly, the barest of smiles coming to stretch across his lips.

I didn’t see you as the type, he commented, voice low.  I, myself, am not so much a fan. Calming as it is, the rain is quite troublesome, particularly when it storms. I much prefer the SUN.

        The Funeral Prosecutor

Smiling at Simon, Nahyuta wrapped his
arms around his neck. It’s funny. He has
always thought he’s fond of the rain, not the
sun. The monk is sometimes fond of the sun,
but the sound of raindrops is what made him
attract the rain. Placing his head against his
chest, he sighed softly.

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  ❝Well… I didn’t see you as the type for
    the sun, my love. But know this: you’re
    my sun, Simon. My sun, my moon, my
    stars, you are all of them…❞

He kissed his lover in the lips once again, his
heart pounding loud in his ears…