1. Which moment is real and which is happening only in Mukuro's mind? (the italics and shift in tenses between scenes are simply to distinguish between two separate moments)
2. What do you think is happening in this? :) (those who've read this before, no telling lol)
"I can't... I can't help you."
Nothing, Mukuro decided, was more beautiful than the anguish of Sawada Tsunayoshi. He wanted to take it in his hands, roll it between his fingers, press his mouth to it and feel it flutter against his lips. Tsuna, ignorant to his thoughts, pressed his palms against Mukuro's chest, his forehead to Mukuro's shoulder.
"This... this is above me." The cloth of Mukuro's shirt nearly came apart in Tsuna's hands, brittle and worn as it was. "I have to think about the family. I can't... I have to think about everyone else."
The links of Mukuro's manacles chimed a dirge to the cadence of Tsuna's grief.
Across the way, the sun sets. Light scatters in the swell of waves, a burning display that razes the horizon.
Mukuro does not watch it—beauty does not move him. It may have, once, but he prefers not to remember. Instead, he closes his eyes and breathes. Catches the scent of the Mediterranean, the smell of desperate men and shadows strung like pearls in the surf.
The wind laces the tangled wisps of his hair in memory and brine. The air carries with it a faint whining—like the slow hiss of a whetstone dragged along the axe's blade, like the screech of metal as the guillotine is raised.
The air grows cold at his back and he sifts his fingers through the sand. The grains pass through his hands like seconds.
This is a follow up picture to this one :)
Have an awesome Wednesday! ♥