[Kidou's quiet after that, pulling his pillow a little more to the left, finding the precise center before he's satisfied that he'll get maximum use out of it. He doesn't pay full attention to Sakuma putting the finishing touches on what Kidou assumes is his own nightly routine.
Not until Sakuma reaches behind his head and gently pulls off his eyepatch.
Sakuma can't see Kidou's eyes widen, but the raised eyebrows say volumes on their own. He had expected that Sakuma would be like he was, keeping on that covering at all times. He'd thought he had no right to see, although the memory of Sakuma's unhinged smile is seared deep into his memory. Every time he looked at Sakuma now, he knew what lay under that. No matter how guilty he felt about it, he'd always know.
It's just as Kidou remembers; the same vivid gold as the other eye, but surrounded by black. It looks so much more natural without a shattered eyepatch to accompany it. There, it was terrifying. Here, it's something uniquely interesting about Sakuma. Is it merely appearance that makes him cover it, or function? Although he can't deny he's curious, Kidou would never dare to ask.
It's not long before the sheet pulls towards the other side of the bed. As Sakuma climbs in, Kidou stays perfectly still and completely silent, refusing to move even to adjust the covers if they shift. Slowly, his eyebrows return to a neutral position as he forces himself to stop reacting as if anything's abnormal. He closes his eyes, but it doesn't last long before that eye draws his focus again.
It doesn't matter that he's been staring far longer than is socially acceptable. With his goggles, Kidou's learned a long time ago that he can get away with that. As long as he needs to, he'll memorize Sakuma's face just like this, forcibly shoving away all lingering images of that meteorite-affected stare.
This is a mental image Kidou infinitely prefers to keep. There's only Sakuma behind that expression.
This time, Kidou knows for certain that it's intentional for him to see.]
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Not until Sakuma reaches behind his head and gently pulls off his eyepatch.
Sakuma can't see Kidou's eyes widen, but the raised eyebrows say volumes on their own. He had expected that Sakuma would be like he was, keeping on that covering at all times. He'd thought he had no right to see, although the memory of Sakuma's unhinged smile is seared deep into his memory. Every time he looked at Sakuma now, he knew what lay under that. No matter how guilty he felt about it, he'd always know.
It's just as Kidou remembers; the same vivid gold as the other eye, but surrounded by black. It looks so much more natural without a shattered eyepatch to accompany it. There, it was terrifying. Here, it's something uniquely interesting about Sakuma. Is it merely appearance that makes him cover it, or function? Although he can't deny he's curious, Kidou would never dare to ask.
It's not long before the sheet pulls towards the other side of the bed. As Sakuma climbs in, Kidou stays perfectly still and completely silent, refusing to move even to adjust the covers if they shift. Slowly, his eyebrows return to a neutral position as he forces himself to stop reacting as if anything's abnormal. He closes his eyes, but it doesn't last long before that eye draws his focus again.
It doesn't matter that he's been staring far longer than is socially acceptable. With his goggles, Kidou's learned a long time ago that he can get away with that. As long as he needs to, he'll memorize Sakuma's face just like this, forcibly shoving away all lingering images of that meteorite-affected stare.
This is a mental image Kidou infinitely prefers to keep. There's only Sakuma behind that expression.
This time, Kidou knows for certain that it's intentional for him to see.]