[Seeing Hinata nervous isn't a rare sight in the slightest, in fact, it almost feels more normal than when he's confident... or assertive. It reminds Komaeda that this truly is the Hinata he's come to know and care for; but with the way he fumbles his words, and how his tongue seems to weighted in his mouth, slowly Komaeda starts to feel nervous too. What sort of admission has this brevity? What could be so important that it can't wait until when he isn't as fatigued?
His heart thunders in his breast—so hard it feels like it might burst through his ribs. For a moment, he almost feels sick. Like vertigo is running him over and the blood that's rushing through his veins will burn him from the inside out. Still, regardless of the thoughts that race through his mind, Komaeda retains his gentle smile. Whether it's good or bad, he'll accept it.
Then those words reach his ears, trembling with nerves, and it's like time has stopped. His heart's no longer racing, rather, it's dropped down into the pit of his stomach, where it's doing backflips. He hasn't realized the way his fingers have curled into the curtain, gripping it so tightly that the rod above creaks beneath the sudden strain.]
If this is a joke... it's a cruel one.
[The words escape his lips before he even has a chance to think about them, because he's too distracted with keeping himself from crying. His face feels hot. His eyes sting. He pulls the curtain between them, hiding himself from Hinata.]
You have to tell me if this is a joke, Hajime, otherwise... I'll—
[He'll what? His own voice is trembling. He doesn't want to believe, or more like, he can't believe it. How could Hinata love him? After everything he's done? Even before, when he found out Hinata was just some talentless reserve course student with a manufactured talent... he was so angry with himself for caring for him the way he did. And now... can he really hope for those returned feelings?]
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His heart thunders in his breast—so hard it feels like it might burst through his ribs. For a moment, he almost feels sick. Like vertigo is running him over and the blood that's rushing through his veins will burn him from the inside out. Still, regardless of the thoughts that race through his mind, Komaeda retains his gentle smile. Whether it's good or bad, he'll accept it.
Then those words reach his ears, trembling with nerves, and it's like time has stopped. His heart's no longer racing, rather, it's dropped down into the pit of his stomach, where it's doing backflips. He hasn't realized the way his fingers have curled into the curtain, gripping it so tightly that the rod above creaks beneath the sudden strain.]
If this is a joke... it's a cruel one.
[The words escape his lips before he even has a chance to think about them, because he's too distracted with keeping himself from crying. His face feels hot. His eyes sting. He pulls the curtain between them, hiding himself from Hinata.]
You have to tell me if this is a joke, Hajime, otherwise... I'll—
[He'll what? His own voice is trembling. He doesn't want to believe, or more like, he can't believe it. How could Hinata love him? After everything he's done? Even before, when he found out Hinata was just some talentless reserve course student with a manufactured talent... he was so angry with himself for caring for him the way he did. And now... can he really hope for those returned feelings?]
I won't forgive you if you're lying to me.