Being told he was beautiful, a word that didn’t suit him at all, Tatsumi almost dropped the mug in his hands. That sort of a.s.sessment was rarely said to one man from another. Even so, Kusamakura didn’t appear to be fl.u.s.tered, nor did he seem to be joking. Rather, it was Tatsumi who was embarra.s.sed.
“Um&h.e.l.lip;&h.e.l.lip;”
“I think you’re fine the way you are. You’re pretty, Tatsumi.”
Repeating himself clearly, Kusamakura seemed to be nodding to himself in agreement.
“I see, so that’s it.”
He repeated to himself, as if he were finally understanding something.
“Th-Thank you&h.e.l.lip;&h.e.l.lip;um, let’s end it there.”
Honestly, being told something like that, in a voice that seemed to come from what he felt in his heart, made Tatsumi’s face inadvertently turn red. Tatsumi set his mug on the table, then pressed his palms against his burning face, hoping Kusamakura wasn’t looking his way. He never had an interest in others s.e.xually. Since he couldn’t see, he had plenty of opportunities to touch other people, all sorts of people, men and women of all ages, but he never felt any sort of nervousness from their a.s.sistance.