with a rhythm all our

“Alright, fine!” Sawamura’s shoulders slump slightly, but his hands are still clamped tightly around his phone. “It is,” he admits in a mumble, his thumb glued to the screen and swiping up and down the phone in a one inch path so the same photo comes in and out of view. “He’s just.” He chews on his bottom lip, pulling the same photo back into center focus. “Very nice to look at.”“Is that so,” Miyuki intones. He’s very careful to keep a frown from his mouth.“Yeah,” Sawamura replies, a little dreamily. He studies his phone for another two seconds before double-tapping his screen and resuming his scrolling. Miyuki’s lips pinch together. He drums his fingers against Sawamura’s shoulder, thinking about that double tap and the airy quality to Sawamura’s voice and -