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Summary
"You know what I think about the most?"
Ash shakes his head, quiet. His chest is heavy, but he can't explain why. Guilt, maybe. Shame. A desire to be normal and to want something that it looks like everyone wants and is supposed to want. To not be able to give Shorter that.
"This." This, holding Ash; something Ash finds comfort in and loves. "And holding your hand. Stupid, romantic shit like bringing you flowers and taking you to dinner. But ah, I'm broke so can't take you anywhere outside of Chang Dai. But you know, that's what I want."
