[What he wants to do more than anything is lean in and drape all over Kashuu, cling to him, hold on physically because he doesn't know which words that will bridge the gap between them. The way he curls up instead only makes him look and feel even smaller where he sits, even more like the child crying in the forest because he's done something he cannot undo. Even more like the grown man feeling the same way every time life doesn't go the way he wants it to, and he doesn't know how to stop things going wrong.]

Most of the time there's nothing wrong with it. But sometimes it's less like you feel like you're playing, and more like feeling like a small kid who lost their parents at a festival.

[He pours the juice into the glass with the alcohol, and then - to shut himself up as much as anything - he downs it all in one go, despite what Kashuu just said.

It honestly almost comes up immediately again. Between the unfamiliar burn of the liquor and the sourness of the grapefruit juice, it's a miracle that he manages to hold it down, and only has to choke down another minor coughing fit.]

...I'm not sure how, but I think I'm acting even more like a kid now.