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Summary
it's other moments that make euijoo's skeleton want to shrivel up. like when fuma walks up behind him in the bedroom mirror and worships euijoo aloud like a devoted follower at an altar. places sturdy but gentle hands on his body and finds a way to compliment every aspect of euijoo's being. all the while, euijoo has to stare at the floor. if he ever looked up and made eye contact with fuma, everything kept inside euijoo would escape in a ugly mess, like a pen leaking an inky glob onto perfect, white paper. he smiles, of course, and thanks fuma coily, anything for the moment to be over. for the nausea to stop gripping at his organs. he hates how nice fuma is to him. why doesn't he see what euijoo sees? if he did, surely he'd have left by now? disappear, and take euijoo's heart with him.
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euijoo's struggle with body image issues and how it affects his relationship with fuma