#Silly Carmelo confesses his love to Tobias by punching him in eye

[m3ffsstuff]

Sky is a bizarre ceiling covered with something unusually small, like beads. From each star, — August, ceiling is strewn with them, like watermelon seeds — if you look closely, a thin thread goes into black clarity.

Tobias blinks and his trembling eyelashes tangle. It seems to him as if this deserted ceiling is about to break off and fall. He will scratch and crush, bursting his head like a melon, finally. And it seems to Tobias that breaking down is like hitting his mother's favorite mug on a tiled floor.

– You hit me in face.

Fuss under side — crushed under arms and legs of dry grass. A look, confident and intense — glowing lanterns through darkness of forest. Comets that are among the stars are recognized immediately, almost instantly. Watch how gray sweater mixes with patches of earth.

People often believe that comets are shooting stars, they are used to depicting them as beautiful and fast. Wishes are still made, fools, on them.

— Yeah, — a nervous nod of head and blue strands of hair fall over his eyes. — you stopped breathing.

— But now I've stopped seeing, — the brunette purses his lips, feeling the humidity of a wide sweater. — you almost knocked my eye out.

Blue comets and stars on thin, barely visible threads glow almost the same. And unpleasantly evenly, which makes Tobias sigh wearily. They also lacked Major Tom here for complete pacification.

Brunette's head is spinning, pain swims like a fish from eye to cheek, causing an angular shudder.

— Where are we anyway?

Tobias blinks — with difficulty, capillaries on his eyelids resist — and is not going to turn his head even a millimeter. For now, this is quite enough for him — ceiling-sky with splashes of white paint and human rustling nearby, in middle of high grass strings on which you can play your music. And most importantly — no one will judge.

Comet turns into likeness of a man, into that frightening «something» that has been deposited somewhere on the crust of subconscious. Foggy void that Tobias managed to accept as a bed for night turns into a very ordinary field, tearing it out of vacuum of a soap bubble.

Cold of dry grass — in the warmth of palm on forehead. Instant disappearance of that cutting blackness of hair is like arriving at an orbital station and certainly like grounding in zero gravity.

– You're having a panic attack.

Tobias snorts, which sounds more like a pained sob. He never seems to admit that he likes it when Carmelo talks loudly, a lot and, as if, not to the point at all.

Icy calm in voice reflects an unusual warmth, but it feels like a slap in face during a prolonged tantrum and a hail of tears. This is not something that anyone can like at all. But definitely what is needed at moment.

Tobias is breathing fitfully, a spidery cloud of steam. Fleetingly remembers that oxygen is limited in void.

I want to intercept my palm on my damp forehead when Schneien painfully realizes that a collision with a humanoid comet cannot be avoided. Skin is bathed in flaming heat, and cosmos converges at one point, dangerously close to lips.

Consciousness is in dust and black holes. Into ashes and, almost, into dust.

– You hit me in face..

— Yeah.

— And then kissed..

— Yeah.

Tobias feels cold earth under his back and only now a real person is next to him. Alive and warm, which was so lacking once in an unattainable childhood. This is a signal, obviously. Returning to somewhere where there is barely a home and almost safety.

His breathing slowly evens out, like guitar strings, and Tobias blinks again.

– Ready to look around?

Threads are cut too sharply from the stars. For some reason, Schneien is sure that even if they stay here a few hundred light-years and the stars reach earth, Carmelo will catch them — every one. Perhaps only for his sake.

Tobias weakly shakes his head and—an effort before gravity—catches his hand on his forehead. He presses someone else's palm to his pale face—crippled by boundary of time— like an oxygen mask.

Heat from comet now reverberates on cheeks and temples, swirling in swirls of black hair, as in waves of a raging sea. World finally stops spinning in a frozen waltz, and misty pupils close with eyelids, like windows behind curtains.

#ghost eyes webtoon #ghost eyes #carmelo demonte #tobimelo my parents sorry #tobias schneien #Silly Carmelo confesses his love to Tobias by punching him in eye #I love them sorry guys