Chizuru's head is spinning. Not in a bad way - quite a pleasant way, actually, because she knows the man at her side wants it to stop spinning, and it stops spinning when she rests her head on his chest and lets him pull her along. Maybe it's little more than an excuse to be close to him, but it's an excuse she's willing to use.
She is vaguely aware of the pounding beat of the music and of the movement of bodies around them, but mostly she's aware of Hijikata. She's not really sure if he's talking to her or if she's just thinking of the way his voice sounded when he'd ground out the words to the man she had been all over-- talking to, but she could listen to it all night. He'd said my girl... She wants to hear that from him again. Maybe she'd like to hear other things from him, too.
One hand comes up to brush her fingers against the skin of his cheek and she looks up at him, tries to focus on his eyes. It's hard, because there's so much of him that she could look at forever, but she could definitely get lost in his eyes, she thinks.
A nightclub. Kyoto, Japan, July 2014.
She is vaguely aware of the pounding beat of the music and of the movement of bodies around them, but mostly she's aware of Hijikata. She's not really sure if he's talking to her or if she's just thinking of the way his voice sounded when he'd ground out the words to the man she had been all over-- talking to, but she could listen to it all night. He'd said my girl... She wants to hear that from him again. Maybe she'd like to hear other things from him, too.
One hand comes up to brush her fingers against the skin of his cheek and she looks up at him, tries to focus on his eyes. It's hard, because there's so much of him that she could look at forever, but she could definitely get lost in his eyes, she thinks.