It’s the puff of breath on a still winter’s night, the feeling of grass against one’s head as their eyes scrape the constellations. It’s the glitter of wonders too far to reach, filling his heart and his mind until he was so full of the stars that every breath on was stardust, caught in a breeze and dusted over his cheeks, close as the freckles he wore on his skin. That’s as close as he could get to a supernova—the supernova—in his life anyway. Stardust.
This was Tadashi’s love for him.

This scene was too precious and happy and just akdjofienke


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