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there was a number of things about this current situation that seemed quite pleasing to shion, and he couldn't put them into words even if he tried.
the ironic domesticity of it all was enough to bring him to tears. him and nezumi's small haven was truly the eye of the hurricane. the sound of blood rushing through their ears as they were stripped of skin and flesh, bones cracked and tossed into the wind-- that was all left outside.
inside this place-- inside their place, nothing existed except for them and whatever they chose to do. it was a blank canvas of sorts. it wasn't the kind of blank canvas that left you with a horrible sense of emptiness that made you want to corrupt its purity, no, nezumi and shion's place was different than that.
their blank canvas was the kind that was a comfort. you could create anything and that was all it had to be. no stress was put upon you, for the world was yours and only yours. your rules and nobody else's.
and so, together, nezumi and shion created many things on their blank canvas (thought it was more commonly shion, but he didn't have the heart to say that). shion took time to enjoy it before it was erased and replaced by another object, or simply covered up. it was fine, though. however cluttered it was, it was comforting.
shion created hydrangeas on their canvas. blue and vibrant, shion's hydrangeas dotted the place and they dotted nezumi, and before either of them knew it, shion saw nezumi as a flower boy, covered in his blue hydrangeas.
nezumi always had a simplistic beauty (in shion's opinion, at least). he seemed even more fine like this, blue flowers sprouting from his hair and skin. shion saw him like this; beautiful and homelike.
nezumi acknowledged shion's hydrangeas, though it was silent. most of nezumi's feelings where internalized (though in their canvas, when it was filled with smoke and nezumi's voice and the slapping of skin, he seemed to let loose quite a bit). it was just who he was, really. he appreciated things to himself, as if his human delight was something to be ashamed of.
shion cried blue tears because of nezumi, tears the color of his hydrangeas. wether positive or negative or somewhere in between, he didn't know. what shion did know was that him, this blue place, and his flower boy nezumi-- those were evidently a lovely combination.