"Yes." Speaking is like swallowing freshly molten sugar: it burns from the tip of his tongue to his lungs. He plants his feet onto the ground, arms wrapping around Jade's neck. While he lacks the strength to stand on his own, holding on to someone fixes the problem at least partially. The dim feeling of weak bones doesn't disappear, but he doesn't fall and that's what matters.

When the sweet scent of soap fills his nostrils, Shinjirou sighs. He likes the smell of sex, normally. Sweat and desire and something more basic than that. However, in this case, he thinks he may prefer the clean flavor of some fruit or flower that he can even taste on his tongue. He breathes open-mouthed against Jade's neck, though by now he's opened his eyes as well, watching the veins and muscles work.