slow dancing in the dark

kirishima looks down at his shoes, watching his feet take steps down the dark concrete. the night is cold with every blow; his hair flowing with the wind as he sighs, goosebumps rising in his skin with every passing second.

he feels numb. nothing seems to be properly registering in his head, thoughts too clouded to be even able to take in new information. he doesn’t know what’s going on, where he’s going or whatever. all he’s doing is allowing his own body to move to god knows where.

the night is dead silent, no one passing by the streets as it is too late for someone to be even awake. though it may seem terrifying, he doesn’t dare to look up to the direction he’s headed, afraid that his feet might have brought him somewhere he’s been avoiding, even though his own head is dying to look up into the sky.