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Uta vs Suzuya Juuzou - Ch.110

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gluttonx:

Uta’s presence can mean no good, expecting a bright outcome is only but foolish. She arches an eyebrow, patiently ( not really ) waiting for what words would spill out of his mouth. Though the tension was the dominant feeling, her stance didn’t change or falter as the other walked close.

Attack him. Attack him not?

Fear. That’s the obvious choice in emotion if not for her lack of it. Fear, the most human and primordial feeling. Fear, something that she lacked so badly - that’s how she knows she’s not human. A prideful monster, though scarred she doesn’t feel like running, even if it meant going through several days surviving and relying on an agonizingly slow healing. Lacking strength is a big blow to her ego, though completely aware of her current situation, she won’t lower her standards on dominance. Self preservation? Rize doesn’t know her.

             "Ridiculous.“ Her eyes narrowed for a moment before looking away and focus on the glasses that laid on the floor. She picked them up with deliberation, showing your back to someone like Uta is the last thing you want to do, but she did anyway. "That should not be a question. How would you feel if I were the lucky one that night?”

Such query could only be responded with such words. She’s feels insulted by how he even considered that her anger had faded within such a short time span. In fact, it may never go away. Red eyes fell on the other ghoul.

             "Oh, my apologies… did you lose your sleep thinking how I feel about that? Hah…“ That’s a little too late. He’s a cruel ghoul, much to Rize’s disdain. Maybe if the events had played out differently they’d be able to bear each other. But that’s not how fate decided to pull its strings.

Kamishiro Rize despises Uta.

    He took every syllable of her words and allowed them to resound in his mind, what if he had been the lucky one? What were the chances that he could have been the one stuck without his strength? Was there any point in thinking about it at all? The only reason would be to consider Rize’s feelings, but why would Uta ever think to do that?

    ‘You shouldn’t pretend to be human,’ was what he wanted to say. In their line of living, and in their species, they were always described as being beasts despite their human-like appearances. And for many of them, it was true. But was it true for Rize? Despite her binge-eating, and despite her strength back home, she had obviously been shaken by what he did to her. Laughter and tough exterior aside, Uta had hurt her, and she hated him for it. With an added monstrous aggression, that was more human than anything else.

    But, was he sorry?

    Maybe he was the one less human for wanting to say no. He didn’t want to be sorry for dealing a punishment he judged as fitting for her and her actions. But there was the fact that he was in no position to give those punishments anymore at all. It was a flashback of a person that hurt Rize Kamishiro. The Uta he currently was, watching her pick up her glasses with disinterest and no motive whatsoever to harm her again, wouldn’t have resolved to cannibalism that night.

    “I slept soundly, Rize.” Even if he was sorry, there was no way to take it back, and therefore no reason to give it any further thought. “I’ve merely been curious. You were always so flighty in Tokyo, not even Itori could stick her little nose in for long.”

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ilikebottombunk:

          Brief as it was, the touch to his knee was a much needed conductor to ground him to their conversation. Surprisingly, he wasn’t as agitated or appalled by the confession as he should have been. He was…calm, inhumanely so in the face of someone he’d grown close to outright admitting to hurting both his own kind and others just because HE COULD. It was horrible, an ugly, vicious side to Uta he’d not known of, but in honesty, had suspected. 

          Sousuke had seen him fight afterall, and even if in those few occasions the explosive violence had been acts of self defence, he wasn’t blind to the way the Ghoul had clawed and kicked and driven his limbs through flesh and bone like it was softer than butter.

          As Uta encroached threateningly close into his personal bubble, a hand ascended and gripped around his shoulder, giving a weak shove to reclaim a small inch of space between them. Blue irises fell behind half lidded eyes as he turned his gaze away, searching to look anywhere that wasn’t UTA while he organised his thoughts.

“Of course it does.” How could it not? Sousuke might have to be an impenetrable, stony tower of a man, but he was far from being as durable as the tough substance. 

“Listen…I know you probably think I’m naive or ignorant or Hell, both. That I’m some idiot that’s thrown himself into something completely out of his depth, I couldn’t tell you you were wrong if you did think that, but I’m not an idiot. If I’m here, it’s because I at least think there’s something about you worth knowing. So you’ve done some real shit things, no one has a clean slate.”

          A dry laughter emitted from an equally dry, raspy throat. He couldn’t believe this, he was really grasping at straws here, grasping for any salvageable little crumb that could rationalise why he even even liked this guy, at all.

"You asked me to be honest with you, and the answer is yes it does bother me. To think you can hurt or kill people just like that, when I can barely throw a punch at someone without feeling bad, even if they deserve it. But then I reason that we’re from completely different places you and I…and who knows how I’d be or feel if I was the one going through what you go through, what you still have to go through. I don’t want to think you’re a bad guy, because then what does that say about me, when even after you’ve told me this I’m still struggling to be afraid of or hate you?”

“So, will you be honest with me now? Those people you’ve hurt and killed when you didn’t have to go that far…did you have a good reason? Do you…like doing it?”

     ‘No one has a clean slate.’

     ‘I’m still struggling to be afraid of or hate you.’

     ‘Do you like doing it?’

     The bit of laughter was something that Uta couldn’t follow. The disbelief was within him, snapping and biting at the threads keeping the two of them together. A Ghoul and a human was a dangerous combination for the both of them. A human, pulled into a world where he didn’t belong. A Ghoul, now with everything to lose.

     He’d played around with humans before, in his years. Both in his youth and more recently. In some aspect, he’d preferred to be around them rather than other Ghouls. It was refreshing to not think of territories or power balances or the threat of being cannibalized, even — his own species encouraged him to rise to that position at the top, and to keep those sadistic qualities locked within him to this very day. 

     But had he ever truly enjoyed it? Commanding an army, organizing traps, assigning blame and punishments, settling disputes, hurting others far more than he ever needed to...

     That look of terror on his prey’s face mere moments before their death, a cry of ‘God, please don’t do this,’ as if a God could intervene like deus ex machina. The one pain he was always burdened to bring on another. The only necessary hurt he had to do to the world. Why was that the one he didn’t want to hear, or see? Why hadn’t he spared Rize as she lay on the ground, broken, near irreparable?

     It could have been the way she laughed. It could have been how she knew she had tricked him, but was it still a trick if he willingly fell into it? Did she still deserve what he did to her? He was uneasy about it now. His reasoning and his actions... Whatever morals he ever had to begin with...

     But Sousuke was only asking about the things that Uta didn’t have to do, wasn’t he? The choice to punish, the choice to torture and starve another...

     “I did, years ago. But that...”

     That was before my actions killed nearly every Ghoul I had come to know.

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grauerlotus:

“Explains why it was so pleasantly quiet in Tokyo…” Not that it wasn’t good to see Uta again, but this situation was stressing him out and his mouth just did what it wanted. “I suppose you’re already … familiar… with the people here.” 

At least his choice of words and the way he stressed certain left no questions. Uta wasn’t like him, he wasn’t afraid of confrontations of any kind, maybe it was something he always admired about him but he would never say it out loud. “T-Touka is here?” 

While he as always told himself he was better off keeping his feelings to himself he couldn’t hide that he was… What was he even feeling in this moment? It felt like his heart sank, only to burst and then flood him with a feeling of dread. At the same time he wanted to ask Uta where she was, where he could find her and when he was honest, there was nothing else he could be bothered with now. 

     After knowing another person for so long, it was easy to read the lifts and falls of their facial expressions. No matter how small they were, years of time together paved the way for an easy reading. Though, this time, Uta had to admit that it was really quite easy to read that look on his face now.

     No matter what kind of relationship they had been left with in Tokyo, some small part of Uta was glad that it didn’t seem to affect their first meting within The Hive. But then, had Yomo ever questioned Uta’s role with the clowns? With Souta?

     “Somewhere. I’m afraid her trail’s gone cold, but she’s still around... somewhere. It’s a shame I can’t say the same for Itori. She was my favorite.”

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romanhoitic:

“Nothing! That’s what he did! Stupid useless okama!”

“And Uta-chan! Is that cologne I smell?”

     “He has his moments, unfortunately.”

     “As far as cologne goes... it’s not mine.”

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iustixia:

“Going out of dinner?”

@indumentumxris

     “Dinner? I’m just heading home, officer.”

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romanhoitic:

“Uta-chaaaaaaaan~!!! You won’t believe what Nico just did!”

@indumentumxris​

     “And what did he do this time, dear Roma?”

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Uta 1080x1920px wallpapers // requested by anon click for better view

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Alice Walker, By the Light of My Father’s Smile

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mini-musings:

describe your muse as shittily as possible in the tags.

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ilikebottombunk:

“I was trying.” Before the interruption, he’d had no other goal in mind than to curl up and sleep for the next 10 hours at least. The arrival of Uta only instigated a slight reconfiguration of his plans.

“I saved you a space if you want it.” Punctuated with a suggestive grin, any and all playful airs radiating were quickly sapped dry by the looming, black cloud Uta had dragged in with him from outside. The mood turned somber, the atmosphere heavy…something was up.

          Watching him just standing there doing and saying nothing spurred a conflicting mix of discomfort and escalating irritation. He hated when Uta let things hang awkwardly instead of just getting straight to the point, especially as Sousuke had never made secret the fact his patience for this kind of thing was quickly stripped. As Uta crouched down, he straightened from his slumped posture on the couch, making the angle in which the Ghoul had to look up at him all the more steep.

          With no indication as to what it could possibly be wrong, Sousuke could only brace himself for the impact to come, brow seamed with the lines of his growing worry.  

          The observation, or should he call it LECTURE, caught him off guard, even HURT a little bit. The equivalent of the PING of an elastic band being repeatedly snapped against his sternum.

“Yeah, I know.” 

          How could he forget for even A SECOND? Between all of Uta’s late night escapades, the countless times he’d locate specs of crimson staining clothing and bed sheets…the fresh, mottled purples that every so often made an appearance alongside black ink. Yeah, no way could Sousuke forget what Uta was even if he’d wanted to. And yet the most scathing thing about the low key accusation was that it wasn’t false. Perhaps on some subconscious level he’d always avoided burrowing too deep into the Ghoul’s past for fear of not liking the contents he’d dredge up. At any rate, blissful ignorance it seemed, was no longer an option.

          He was ok with that.

“You said it yourself didn’t you? If you wanted to hurt me you’d have done it already, so if this is really what you wanna talk about, why don’t you tell me what you think it is I should be scared of?“

“What’re you getting at with all this?”

     The larger part of him was considering the fact that he wouldn’t be welcome to take up that extra space at the end of their conversation, and he had to be okay with that — and he was, for the most part. 

     Their conversation had a few possible ways of ending, though Uta had trouble putting much stock into any situation where he would be allowed back here again. If he were to be his honest self in front of someone who had no idea what that self was, the shock alone might be enough to break them apart from what they had managed to build together in the short span of a few months.

     But a shaky foundation would always crumble.

     Maybe that was the real reason he was doing this.

     It only took a few seconds of silence this time before he spoke up. “It’s not you I’ve hurt.”

     There wasn’t an ounce of remorse in his voice in consideration of his actions. Within the city, he’d only done what he thought was necessary, up until that old spark of sadism had encouraged him to make someone suffer in agony and pain for entire weeks. He questioned his actions outside of the city as well after that event — thought back to his plans in massacre and betrayal as if it were nothing. They had been nothing to him. And the sight of death staining the floor was still... nothing.

     ...And this was the tricky part. He’d thought a lot about how to breach into the world that he initially wanted to keep Sousuke completely out of. Even telling him involved him in ways that he didn’t need (or perhaps even wanted), but if Sousuke wanted him around, wasn’t it only fair that he knew what he was clinging to? What he was sleeping next to, and waking up to?

     “I’ve changed a lot from my youth, in some ways more than others. But still, I’ve killed humans and Ghouls when I didn’t need to.” 

     From his crouch, he placed his palm atop of Sousuke’s knee and stood back up, this time leaning into Sousuke’s personal space. They’ve been this close before, more than a handful of times, but the energy surrounding him was different. It felt heavier. Invasive, maybe.

     “I’ve hurt them more than I needed to. When I didn’t need to. Does that bother you? Be honest.”

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let’s just take a moment in regards of his return. [x]

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animuras:

“Return?” 

Did he say that out loud? The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. That there was a going back. He had always been about going forward. Even getting back to where he came from, even reclaiming what he lost was about going forward, not returning. Not really.

And speaking about what he had lost, there was really only one childhood friend to speak of. So, Uta had pieced those clues together. Well, it wasn’t a hard puzzle, he supposed. Maybe some other time these thoughts would have made him feel… feel something. But now? Now they just were.

He took a drink from his cup of coffee. Something in his body registered that it was still hot, still too hot, and set about replacing that thin layer of burnt cells, all completely automatically. He hadn’t even noticed.

“It’s a nice thought,” he said, without meaning to. What was he referring to again? His brain seemed to latch onto something at random. “That someone would be waiting.” 

He’d worn so many masks for so long, it was little wonder that he could act automatically like this - hold an entire conversation without any input from his mind at all. It probably should have been disturbing to hear himself talk, but it wasn’t. Wasn’t much of anything.

He found himself glancing out the window, almost… almost bored. But that couldn’t be right. Maybe he was just tired. When had he last slept? He didn’t even remember. He took another sip of coffee, and turned back to Uta.

“But I do have a job waiting, don’t I?” Funny, he thought. That was a funny line. Maybe. He wasn’t sure. Maybe he really was tired. Distantly, he hoped not. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he was sure there was a reason. “I have to pay you back for this little coffee date somehow, after all.”

Part of him knew that there was more to get out of this conversation. Uta had just said something important, hadn’t he? But there wouldn’t be any more fun to be had. And the idea of slogging through this… this blandness for much longer grew increasingly unappealing with each breath.

“You still haven’t told me how I should get in contact with you later.” Yes, they could continue this… later. That sounded like a reasonable idea. Later, it might even be fun again. What was that saying? Something… something plus time equals comedy. Ah well. It didn’t really matter.

     It was like looking into a locked room through a comically large keyhole, and staring into the messy abyss that hadn’t been touched in so many years that the paint was peeling, the floors were wrecked, and every piece of ruined furniture had been buried in dust. From Uta’s standpoint, Furuta was barely keeping a hold on the door to that room. There were scratches down its length. The wood was growing rotten.

     Tiny, tiny hints, were all he had to go on. But knowing Furuta for years had given him the feeling that he was correct to assume the truth of those terrible things. If he was wrong, that would be fine too, he supposed. But Furuta was being too... what was he? Out of it? Sentimental? What were those feelings building up, he wondered?

     Then again, there was only so much patience he had for his fellow Clown. Clearly, he had a lot to think about, and Uta was going to let him mull it over for however long he felt was necessary. The both of them were growing tired of the blandness around them. There were better places they could have their next meetings, for as long as they were both in the city. And, of course, Furuta had that job waiting for him, he was right.

     “They’ll give you a cellphone after a month, but if you want to drop in for a visit, I’m in Sector oo2.” The words could have been flying right through Furuta’s ears, Uta realized, but he continued on anyway. It wasn’t his fault if his company wasn’t absorbing the information. They’d meet again anyway; whether that was by coincidence or by actively looking for each other, it didn’t really matter. 

     “The 16th floor. I’m sure you understand I have my own business to attend to some nights. Make yourself at home if I’m not there.” A scare for his roommates, maybe, but he hadn’t been close to them anyway. And whatever Furuta wanted to assume about his business, Uta would allow it to stay as an assumption; his own plans were quite private. Plans he’d much rather keep as far away from the Ghoul World as he possibly could.

     He stood from where he had been sitting to prepare to leave, but before he moved towards the door, he placed his hand on Furuta’s shoulder and leaned close to whisper something in his ear. 

     “We’ll be here a while, so take your time. There’s no rush at all.”

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ilikebottombunk:

        Was Sousuke expecting company tonight? Not as far as he was aware, with Rin and Kisumi long gone and Makoto eons from being the type to show up places uninvited, the list of faces he predicted to find standing on his doorstep once he finally got there were considerably fettered. Two winks away from turning in for the night, the ditty of knuckles rapping against his door caused the discharge of a long SIGH from the as of yet unspent effort of having to shift out of his very comfortable spot on the bed. He rolled onto his side, listening attentively for the sound of footsteps in case any of his elusive house mates had made plans involving guests.

Nothing.

        Heaving himself off the mattress with a lazy push, Sousuke initiated a barefoot straggle towards the entrance of his apartment, skirting around the energetic bundle of fur hopping circles around him to make the short venture from point A to B all the more challenging for the somnolent athlete. Once the door reached, he’d paused a moment to inhale, fingers curling around the bronze, polished base of the handle.

         Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen him in about a week, right? As futile as Sousuke knew it was to invest any stock into the unannounced visitor being who he wanted it to, he still couldn’t smother that small, smidgen of hope budding in his chest. Tugging the door towards him a fraction, his stomach flipped involuntarily at the appearance of the pale faced Ghoul, welcoming his….whatever they were calling each other….with a warm smile.

“Hello stranger.” The humour coating his voice was easily traceable as he slumped forward and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of Uta’s mouth, retreating into the lounge shortly after where he was sure the other would follow in due time.

“Watch you don’t step on Hazel, she likes to get under feet.”

         She’d scampered off somewhere for now, but a creature that little was easily squished under someone’s irresponsible heel! Sprawling himself comfortably on the couch, he shuffled to one side enough to leave a space in case Uta wanted to slither in beside him.

“S'everything ok?”

     It wasn’t in Uta’s normal habit to call or leave a message as a warning to his presence, but it seemed as though Sousuke didn’t hold that against him — especially not now, with a kiss and a smile and a sense of normalcy that created another one of the smallest frowns on Uta’s expression. At this point, there wasn’t much sense in hiding it away, so he let it stick as he made his way inside, watching out for the bundle of fur just as Sousuke had requested. 

     “It’s late,” he said on impulse. “I thought you might be sleeping.” The small talk hadn’t been planned, but he felt the words coming out anyway, stalling the harsh truths he had kept within himself. Whatever that action implied about him, he couldn’t focus on it now.

     Instead of sitting, Uta chose to stand in front of Sousuke for a long moment, in silence, before crouching down with that same frowning expression. Looking up from his position, Uta didn’t think that he had even been this bare with another person before, except for a few instances in his youth. He wasn’t a person to open up often, nor was he a person to feel this much that often.

     He hadn’t even started speaking yet, and this encounter was already proving to be difficult. But, all he had to do was open his mouth, and let whatever would happen, happen. He’d been doing that a lot lately, for better or for worse. The mask he had always worn didn’t seem to be holding up these past weeks. His feelings... were becoming too complicated.

     “You know I’m not human.” A fact, simply said, yet indicative of the direction Uta wanted to go down.

     “...But you don’t know much about me at all. You’ve said you’re not scared, but what do you think you’re not scared of? Don’t you think you’ve been irresponsible getting involved with someone you don’t know anything about?”

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animuras:

This was - this was a joke, surely. One of Uta’s strange off color jokes where the humor lay more in what wasn’t funny than what was. That’s all this was, right?

He swallowed the laugh in his throat. For once, he didn’t trust it.

He could just go with that, assume this was nothing more than part of the game they were playing. He could do that.

But he’d be lying to himself. Uta’s words had sent a shiver down his back, into his kakuhou, and useless as they were, they seemed to pump that icy cold through his entire body. Or maybe… maybe it was heat. Things at extremes did tend to blur together.

If his mask had been literal, had been the sort Uta crafted, then these temperatures, whatever they were, would have been enough to make it turn brittle and start crack.

Nothing ever came from running from the truth, isn’t that right? Nothing ever came from hoping for the best. Nothing ever came from expecting anything in this world - this world or any other - to be fair.

He slid his one hand off the table, let the one holding the coffee cup fall to his lap. On instinct he hid them, in case they started to shake. Had they already started to shake? Why would they be - be doing that?

This was good news, right? Was he glad? Jealous? Surprised? Angry?

He didn’t - he didn’t know. He’d never been good at that sort of thing. Reading it in others, knowing how to provoke it, how to twist it all - that came naturally. But this? 

There were dozens of ways the scientists could have managed something like this. Erasing his memory of the event to keep things interesting, giving memories that weren’t even real to Uta, just to taunt him. Or maybe their entire process of taking people to this city was more a copy than a cut. Each of these scenarios changed things, and yet. And yet he couldn’t seem to care.

He blinked, and it was like he was outside himself, watching himself sit there across from Uta, and then he blinked again and he was back. Only it was as if half the lines out of his brain had been cut. He moved himself like a heavy weighted marionette. It was… hard to control, really, this puppet of his body. He let his head tilt back. Sigh, smile.

Yes, smile. Laugh, he told himself - Laugh - it’s fun. But all he managed was a breathy exhale. The distant cousin of real laughter.

“So,” He managed to say finally, after what felt like hours but probably wasn’t any more than seconds. “They’re all dead?” Saying it out loud, hearing it in his own voice, inexplicably made his smile wider. Made everything lighter.

He lowered his head and looked at Uta. It was all strangely distant. Strangely hollow.

“I suppose,” he said, “that I owe you a thank you, then.” He placed his hands on either side of his coffee cup and began spinning it around slowly. “Or perhaps it should be an apology. I promised you all quite the show, didn’t I? And yet. Here you are.”

Finally, he managed something akin to a real chuckle, looking down into his coffee. The color of dried blood, almost. “But I’m glad you managed to get something out of the opening act, after all.”

     Ah, so it would turn out to be one of these times.

     Uta had seen it before, in the faces of those who thought themselves to be strong in the face of a greater adversity. Uta, of course, had always been that greater adversity. In one way or another, he had spent his days at the top of it all, listening to weak squeals, and listening to the exhalations of those who thought themselves to be stronger.

     That was all Uta could think of to describe the scene in front of him. Even the most physically strong Ghouls were weak against their inner most desires and emotions, and thought it had all passed within the span of a few seconds, it was enough. It was satisfying. Though there was no screaming, or blood, or carnage, Uta felt himself content with the silent cracking in front of him.

     If Uta were an enemy of Furuta, he might be scared. Might. But even then, he had to wonder which of them would have ended up the victor of that battle; if he made the effort to push aside the laziness that had slithered its way into his modern life, he didn’t think there were many people who could overcome him, no matter how unstable and upset they were. But, Furuta wasn’t that type, right? He was all about acts, just as all of the Clowns were... wasn’t he?

     Ignoring just how little he could concretely say about his ally, Uta continued to survey him with the same gaze, wondering how much energy it took to say the things he was hearing.

     “And yet, here I am.” The confirmation was flat and almost indicative of blame, though that certainly wasn’t the case at all. Uta knew better than to blame Furuta for ending up in Hive City, even if it was all thanks to the one sitting across from him that he had built up his hopes of entertainment and enjoyment in Tokyo. No, it was Uta’s own fault for depending on another so heavily to provide him with a worthy show.

     “They’re all dead. And once you return, you’ll be able to see it for yourself, so by all means, rest easily. I believe you have a particular childhood friend waiting for you here.”

     It could have been easily mistaken for comfort, but just like his previous statement, that wasn’t what he meant by it at all. If Furuta could be overwhelmed and finally let the charade of his fade away, perhaps then Uta could be completely satisfied. A mask in one home was just a weight in another (even if such a sentiment could go both ways, for now Uta would ignore his own fate, and enjoy the downfall of another — what else was there to do here, anyway?).

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ilikebottombunk:

Keep reading

    Maybe Uta hadn't expected Sousuke to be so eager to remove the layer that his fingers had been teasing under, but he was more than willing to watch it happen, laying underneath Sousuke patiently and immediately letting his hands touch the skin that was blushing and exposed. To any human, it might have felt hard from muscle, but to a Ghoul like Uta, it was all soft. Maybe his hands were too rough as he traced over him again, but the action was interrupted rather quickly as Sousuke made it known that he wanted Uta to follow suit.

    Though it meant breaking the contact that had just been reestablished, he wouldn't hold himself back at all; Uta wasn't a shy person in these contexts, although his typical traces of laziness carried over in the way that he let him hands linger over the fabric of his own shirt. Inch by inch, perhaps it was only obvious after a handful of seconds that he could have been doing it so slowly on purpose, but the complete removal of it was followed by almost demanding fervor, the change of pace even surprising to the leader of the action.

    He reached for the body above him, quickly pulling him back so that the loss of contact hadn't been allowed to linger too long. Why did he seem so impatient now? Whatever was holding him sane and slow seemed to have left completely, which only encouraged Uta's inner desire to press his lips and trace his tongue against Sousuke's neck, all the way down to his shoulder, daring to suck gently against sweet skin all the while.

    It was probably more dangerous than was necessary, but Uta knew his own limits, and he was sure to trace back up the trail of markings he left until his lips were back at Sousuke's again.

    The tips of Uta's fingers managed to slip just under the very top hem of Sousuke's pants, and as he traced around his hips, his own legs relaxed more so than they had been before as an almost inaudible hum left from the depths of his throat. If it was possible to be enjoying this too much, for what it was, that was exactly what Uta had been doing.

    It had been... too long since he had savored something like this.

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Something in my soul was rising, rising, ceaselessly, painfully, and refused to be still.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky (via quotemadness)