Excerpt from an old fanfic:
Gokudera's explanation grows into an exposition on angles, displacement, and terrestrial mechanics, and Tsuna finds himself smiling less in understanding and more in bemusement at the enthusiastic way Gokudera speaks. His hands make grand gestures, long fingers pointing with imagined relish or curling into palms that are broad and calloused and likely warm despite the lingering bite of a cool spring night. He waves his small prop around, animated movements an extension of the expressive way his eyes widen and his lips draw back into a smile, as if there is nothing more enjoyable than teaching Tsuna how to use dynamite at six in the morning.
Tsuna is so rapt with watching Gokudera that it takes him a moment to realize Gokudera has stopped speaking. Rather, he has pushed a hand into his mussed hair and is looking decidedly sheepish for realizing belatedly that he'd lost Tsuna less than five minutes into their lesson.
"Sorry, Tsuna, I..."
Behind him, the sun has broken past the horizon, etching highlights into his hair like threads of burnished silver. Tsuna takes a moment to admire the view and the way Gokudera's cheeks flush under his focused attention.
"It's okay, Gokudera." And it's Tsuna's turn to look sheepish now. "I was never very good at physics or...much of anything really. How about a demonstration instead?"
Gokudera opens his mouth, no doubt with every intention of arguing with Tsuna's self-evaluation, but catches himself in time. They have already had this argument, numerous times in numerous places, the very last of which Gokudera had ended by cradling Tsuna's face in his hands and whispering against his lips, ‘I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.' And before Tsuna could reply, added, ‘But you don't. You don't, and I love you.'
Squalo, the Sword Emperor, from Katekyo Hitman Reborn. Loud, crude, deadly and ridiculously pretty
Happy Wednesday, all!