[ Tatara squeezes hard back. He wishes he could squeeze harder, melt into him. It's hard when he's so—overwhelmed by the memory, the feelings. He was purple, then. And he's a little envious. Tatara wishes he could turn purple, too.
A hand gently rubs at his back at the sigh. They'll be patient. ]
It's because I love all of you, who you really are.
[ No matter how small Tatara is, he'll carry the weight that is Aguero. Even if he is just an early spring breeze, he thinks Aguero is air, just like him, when he's in his arms.
Or maybe he's fire, his blaze roaring under gentle breath.
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A hand gently rubs at his back at the sigh. They'll be patient. ]
It's because I love all of you, who you really are.
[ No matter how small Tatara is, he'll carry the weight that is Aguero. Even if he is just an early spring breeze, he thinks Aguero is air, just like him, when he's in his arms.
Or maybe he's fire, his blaze roaring under gentle breath.
Who knows. He doesn't really think about it. ]