[it would be inaccurate to say that kavinsky is never romantic. well— that he's never had a romantic feeling for a person. the shittiness of his execution and expression only serves to contrast and highlight how intensely he had felt at the time. he had courted death for years, and the flirtation would've gone on some time had it not been for that whole shit with falling in love.
or whatever passes for love, in kavinsky's solipsistic universe.]
You can come if you want. Plus minus clitoral stimulation? Shhhyygh—
[the disgusted, oh-no-cooties noise at the end is strangely at odds with the arm that winds up slung around saya's shoulders. he either doesn't mind or doesn't know that he has lipstick smeared translucently across his mouth. he doesn't mind and doesn't entirely know that there are people staring at him. they, too, are more swirls than bodies, shapes in the color of sunlight. indifferent in his bliss, he leans over her shoulder and steers her haphazardly back out toward the parking lot.]
FREE TP BITCHES, [he yells, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder at the drawing that he only distantly remembers behind.] FROM YOUR SLOPPY ANUS.
no subject
or whatever passes for love, in kavinsky's solipsistic universe.]
You can come if you want. Plus minus clitoral stimulation? Shhhyygh—
[the disgusted, oh-no-cooties noise at the end is strangely at odds with the arm that winds up slung around saya's shoulders. he either doesn't mind or doesn't know that he has lipstick smeared translucently across his mouth. he doesn't mind and doesn't entirely know that there are people staring at him. they, too, are more swirls than bodies, shapes in the color of sunlight. indifferent in his bliss, he leans over her shoulder and steers her haphazardly back out toward the parking lot.]
FREE TP BITCHES, [he yells, and hikes a thumb over his shoulder at the drawing that he only distantly remembers behind.] FROM YOUR SLOPPY ANUS.