Suna tries to live normally even though he only eats rice.
“Sunarin, wake up.”
Suna groans, the preambles of a headache accompanying him as he wakes. He struggles to keep all of him intact. “Any good reason?”
“Heatstroke,” Osamu deadpans, handing him a bottle of water.
“I don’t really care.”
Osamu rolls his eyes, sits next to him. “Your hiding spots are getting harder and harder to find.”
“I think that’s the purpose of a hiding spot,” Suna says.
Suna sits up, lets their shoulders barely touch.
Bookmarked by daegusblood
25 Nov 2020