[It's probably for the best that Yamato is holding on to him now, because his legs feel like they might just give out soon, and anyway this is exactly what he wants. Nevermind that being held so tightly makes breathing just that little bit harder - if that's even possible - and they're now both a complicated tangle of sand and towels and skinny limbs. Souji is just the kind of person who holds on to things for as long as he can, for longer than he should, and in a way, Yamato is one of the few things he hasn't let go of even back home, isn't he? So surely this is allowed.]
I was... afraid I wouldn't see you again, I guess.
[He lets out a small laugh, frayed and emotional, but not quite as unraveled as Yamato's voice just now. He's not crying, at least - but maybe that's because he's cried far too many tears back home recently, cried for all the times he'd stopped himself before then. The compulsion not to has let go of him, at least. All he needs to do now, he reminds himself, is breathe. Even when it hurts, there are those who make it worth it.
He manages to wipe sand off his thumb, and then uses it to gently brush the tears away from Yamato's cheeks, even if he knows there will probably be more.]
But I really should stop making my poor swords cry so much, shouldn't I?
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I was... afraid I wouldn't see you again, I guess.
[He lets out a small laugh, frayed and emotional, but not quite as unraveled as Yamato's voice just now. He's not crying, at least - but maybe that's because he's cried far too many tears back home recently, cried for all the times he'd stopped himself before then. The compulsion not to has let go of him, at least. All he needs to do now, he reminds himself, is breathe. Even when it hurts, there are those who make it worth it.
He manages to wipe sand off his thumb, and then uses it to gently brush the tears away from Yamato's cheeks, even if he knows there will probably be more.]
But I really should stop making my poor swords cry so much, shouldn't I?