[ he shakes his head. no, dabi isn't inviting. it's not easy to build the courage to get close to that man, and most people wouldn't gamble on it. he shakes his head again— that's not what itadori meant by 'safe'. his protest is reserved, weak, only because he didn't know how to elucidate it.
it's when you don't need to run. when it doesn't hurt anymore. when your thoughts are hushed into a peaceful lull. it's warm; their body is warm against yours. you can finally close your eyes, drop your guard, take a steady inhale. in the end, you're no longer alone. you're happy, content and-
safe.
itadori did a pretty good job in keeping himself together. he really tried to calm down and not to overwhelm dabi and himself with all the fire blazing inside of him. it's young, eager, and belligerent— it didn't want to wait. they don't have the fucking luxury of time. he wants to follow the right steps, give that man the patience he deserves after getting fucked over by the closest people in his life. dabi deserves to have someone putting in the effort to win his trust, not by empty words but by being consistent, and by showing up. be there for him, for as long as he welcomes it. show him you won't grow tired of him, show him he's worth the risk. just show up. be there.
— until he can't anymore. what if itadori ends up as another reason in his book on why he shouldn't waste his time on others? was it fair to beg for a connection only to disappear without any justification? ]
I don't want anyone else.
[ while it's true, that's not what dabi asked. it was a half-assed answer, and itadori knew it. he takes in a quivery breath, glancing up at the ceiling again, idly toying with his fingers against his chest. he will not talk about his situation, only because dabi will just use it as an excuse to discredit him. 'oh, he probably doesn't have enough time to find someone better, so he's settling with a criminal like me.' yeah— that's not happening. this might really get itadori to lose it. ]
I ... don't know what to say. I'm not good at this? I'm not good at explaining myself. I just do it. Because I want to, and it feels right.
[ no matter how hard he tries, he can't fucking stop thinking about what little time they have. dabi could be dead tomorrow, he might end up dead before him. it's a sick race to who gets to be buried first, and he's supposed to be okay with it. he shakes it off, or tried to. he's struggling with it— itadori huffs, closing his eyes; fingers curled up into tight fists now. ]
If the situation was different, and you stopped back then ... I don't think I'd be able to recover. I'd break, and I can't ... break. People need me not to fall apart.
[ he paused, silent, and then— quietly: ]
I was scared. You knew I was scared. You knew I needed some control over my life, even if it's as simple as having sex with a stranger, but you gave it to me. You didn't mock me for it. You knew how important it was to treat me like I'm normal.
[ he is not taking dabi's past away from him, if anything ... itadori knew he could never relate to that type of betrayal, especially when you're just a child crying for your parents. they didn't relate in their pain, but they are in their loneliness. dabi can pretend he's above it all, but it can't possibly be true. he refused to believe anyone can go through this life on their own. it's too cruel. he returns staring at the ceiling, only for a second, before he glanced at the man beside him. ]
no subject
it's when you don't need to run. when it doesn't hurt anymore. when your thoughts are hushed into a peaceful lull. it's warm; their body is warm against yours. you can finally close your eyes, drop your guard, take a steady inhale. in the end, you're no longer alone. you're happy, content and-
safe.
itadori did a pretty good job in keeping himself together. he really tried to calm down and not to overwhelm dabi and himself with all the fire blazing inside of him. it's young, eager, and belligerent— it didn't want to wait. they don't have the fucking luxury of time. he wants to follow the right steps, give that man the patience he deserves after getting fucked over by the closest people in his life. dabi deserves to have someone putting in the effort to win his trust, not by empty words but by being consistent, and by showing up. be there for him, for as long as he welcomes it. show him you won't grow tired of him, show him he's worth the risk. just show up. be there.
— until he can't anymore. what if itadori ends up as another reason in his book on why he shouldn't waste his time on others? was it fair to beg for a connection only to disappear without any justification? ]
I don't want anyone else.
[ while it's true, that's not what dabi asked. it was a half-assed answer, and itadori knew it. he takes in a quivery breath, glancing up at the ceiling again, idly toying with his fingers against his chest. he will not talk about his situation, only because dabi will just use it as an excuse to discredit him. 'oh, he probably doesn't have enough time to find someone better, so he's settling with a criminal like me.' yeah— that's not happening. this might really get itadori to lose it. ]
I ... don't know what to say. I'm not good at this? I'm not good at explaining myself. I just do it. Because I want to, and it feels right.
[ no matter how hard he tries, he can't fucking stop thinking about what little time they have. dabi could be dead tomorrow, he might end up dead before him. it's a sick race to who gets to be buried first, and he's supposed to be okay with it. he shakes it off, or tried to. he's struggling with it— itadori huffs, closing his eyes; fingers curled up into tight fists now. ]
If the situation was different, and you stopped back then ... I don't think I'd be able to recover. I'd break, and I can't ... break. People need me not to fall apart.
[ he paused, silent, and then— quietly: ]
I was scared. You knew I was scared. You knew I needed some control over my life, even if it's as simple as having sex with a stranger, but you gave it to me. You didn't mock me for it. You knew how important it was to treat me like I'm normal.
[ he is not taking dabi's past away from him, if anything ... itadori knew he could never relate to that type of betrayal, especially when you're just a child crying for your parents. they didn't relate in their pain, but they are in their loneliness. dabi can pretend he's above it all, but it can't possibly be true. he refused to believe anyone can go through this life on their own. it's too cruel. he returns staring at the ceiling, only for a second, before he glanced at the man beside him. ]
Come on. How can I not be attached to you?