sync your breathing

While it's not necessarily a question of weight or appearance, a matter of binding or other techniques, Mio can't help but feel, sometimes, weighed down by his own body. As if no shape it might possibly take could match the vision in mind, quick and muscled and slashing.

"I'm having so much trouble," he mumbles, looking at his hands. "I guess...I've just got to remember that it's not forever."

Mio's dejected stare watches two hands, not quite as pale but equally cold-pink, slip into his.

"Mio, love, it is forever - and that just means you've got plenty of time."