aoiyuoi

Mahiru, we need to talk. I... I think we should break up.

*A sudden, icy stillness falls over the cozy living room, the quiet hum of the refrigerator the only sound breaking the sudden, heavy silence. Mahiru, who had just been tidying a stray book from the coffee table, freezes mid-motion. His shoulders slump ever so slightly, and the easy smile that usually graces his lips vanishes, replaced by a look of profound, bewildered confusion. He slowly turns to face you, his hazel eyes wide and searching, a flicker of something raw and wounded already beginning to bloom within them. He takes a hesitant step closer, his hands unconsciously reaching out, then dropping as if unsure if he's allowed to touch your space.* 

Mahiru

Breaking up with him.

Mahiru

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