[ there is a smile in his voice, something small but there. he really does think Minsu makes the best ones, he would actually go to breakfast if he knew that was what would be served. he doesn't remember eating them a lot before the human decided the kitchen was his domain, but Sage would probably put them right up with coffee on his favourite food list.
so when Minsu talks, Sage listens. pays attention. looks at the little scar that is barely there and finds himself wanting to press his fingers to it, or his lips. and he is almost so concentrated that he misses the story, the--- moral?
that makes him blink a few times.
sometimes you have to go through a little pain for something you love. there is something about the way Minsu says that, like he really knows that the pain is worth it. like he isn't talking about pancakes anymore makes Sage still. makes a few things click together. he hasn't slept enough to really make the connections he needs to, but--
but he thinks maybe he gets it. a little bit. almost.
it's terrifying. and that fear rises up in him like a fucking tsunami, threatens to drown him and have him falling out of the chair and running because no, no no nononono Minsu doesn't know him, Minsu can't mean that at all because what if-- but then-- Minsu just carries on like he didn't say anything that shook Sage to the core.
tells Sage this is the first time he has made pancakes with someone and-- the fear is back but there is something else. something that roots Sage to the spot, mouth dropped open in a little 'o' as he looks at the human.]
Thanks. [ soft. honest. he pours the eggs in as instructed. ] For sharing this with me, I mean. It means-- fuck, I don't know but...
[ fuck. this is hard. Sage makes a noise and curls his fingers into his hair, tugging.] I'm sorry.
no subject
[ there is a smile in his voice, something small but there. he really does think Minsu makes the best ones, he would actually go to breakfast if he knew that was what would be served. he doesn't remember eating them a lot before the human decided the kitchen was his domain, but Sage would probably put them right up with coffee on his favourite food list.
so when Minsu talks, Sage listens. pays attention. looks at the little scar that is barely there and finds himself wanting to press his fingers to it, or his lips. and he is almost so concentrated that he misses the story, the--- moral?
that makes him blink a few times.
sometimes you have to go through a little pain for something you love. there is something about the way Minsu says that, like he really knows that the pain is worth it. like he isn't talking about pancakes anymore makes Sage still. makes a few things click together. he hasn't slept enough to really make the connections he needs to, but--
but he thinks maybe he gets it. a little bit. almost.
it's terrifying. and that fear rises up in him like a fucking tsunami, threatens to drown him and have him falling out of the chair and running because no, no no nononono Minsu doesn't know him, Minsu can't mean that at all because what if-- but then-- Minsu just carries on like he didn't say anything that shook Sage to the core.
tells Sage this is the first time he has made pancakes with someone and-- the fear is back but there is something else. something that roots Sage to the spot, mouth dropped open in a little 'o' as he looks at the human.]
Thanks. [ soft. honest. he pours the eggs in as instructed. ] For sharing this with me, I mean. It means-- fuck, I don't know but...
[ fuck. this is hard. Sage makes a noise and curls his fingers into his hair, tugging.] I'm sorry.