muse: kit baker, he/they.
open to: any.
plot: little bit based on the song, nothing by bruno major. kit’s having a rough day and struggling with communicating their feelings out loud. a little hurt/comfort for the soul.
it’s loud. like, really loud. brain is sort of .. swooshing inside of kit’s skull. he can’t fucking take it. too much, too much, too much. knees are pulled towards his chest, sitting on the floor as the tv shines a low light in the living room. their eyes are blank. sokka from avatar the last airbender is saying some stupid joke that kit normally would laugh at. but they’re just quiet tonight. eyes travel towards the other. they were close enough, but not too close to invade his personal bubble. he was grateful for that. grateful for them. can’t figure out the right words to express his gratitude, kit pulls a notepad from their pocket. scribbles what they want to so desperately say and passes it to the other. thanks for being here. sorry i’m like this. but i do like doing nothing with you. and at the bottom of the paper, a smiley face next to a poorly drawn heart.
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