yet, he's going to get out of his chair, the dried herb between his fingers falls onto the floor as he walks past rokkun, and over to the door of the art room. he grips the handle, like he's ready to turn it, and leave, but instead he peers outside, looking both left and right before bringing himself back in, and closing the door all the way. if he could lock it, he would. )
You're being hypocritical, Rokkun...
( as if komaeda doesn't live like that, but he turns back around, looking towards him as he leans his back against the door. )
Are you sure you want to have this conversation with me? ... You might look at me differently.
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yet, he's going to get out of his chair, the dried herb between his fingers falls onto the floor as he walks past rokkun, and over to the door of the art room. he grips the handle, like he's ready to turn it, and leave, but instead he peers outside, looking both left and right before bringing himself back in, and closing the door all the way. if he could lock it, he would. )
You're being hypocritical, Rokkun...
( as if komaeda doesn't live like that, but he turns back around, looking towards him as he leans his back against the door. )
Are you sure you want to have this conversation with me? ... You might look at me differently.