Chapter Text
He raises his hands to his face, cupping them around his mouth so he may breathe into them. His fingers are numb from the cold, having just spent close to an hour wrapped rigidly around the wheel of his car. Akihiko had turned the heat all the way up, but he still couldn’t shake the cold.
He glances up at your window for the umpteenth time. He is waiting for you to come running out, bundled up warmly, with your hair long and loose. You will be warmer than anything he can think of and he will feel himself defrosting the moment you touch him.
Akihiko shoves his hands into his pockets, clenching his teeth to keep them from chattering. This is possibly one of the coldest winters he’s ever experienced, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t come out when you ask him to.
Click.
His eyes snap towards the front door. Your back is turned to him, shutting the door as quietly as you can. You’re wrapped in a thick scarf and a hoodie that he recognises as his own. Akihiko feels himself forget to breathe when you turn his way, feet tapping against the frozen cement as you hurry towards him.
“Akihiko!”
His name comes out alongside a plume of steam, ghost-like and white. It fades before he can really see it.
“Thank you so much for coming,“ you say, coming to a stop just before him. He wants to reach out and hug you, just let his body feel the relief of holding yours, but he manages to control himself. He notes the tears clinging your lashes and the redness of your nose. ”I just… I needed to get away.”
“Are they fighting again?“ he asks, eyes flickering to the dark house.
You nod. “All day…”
“Where’s Napoleon?”
“He has an exam tomorrow,” you say, chewing on your lower lip nervously. “I couldn’t ask him to come…” You look up at him, worried. “Did I disturb you?”
“Of course not.”
The smile you give him is well worth the lie.
“Where do you want to go?” he asks, pushing himself off the hood of his car. “My wish is your command.”
You wrap your arms around your frame tightly, nose burrowing into the thick material of your scarf. “Someplace warm!”
“I’m warm,” he says, only half-joking.
You laugh, reaching forward and placing both hands on him. Akihiko stiffens at your touch, his body too used to yours, but at the same time not. When you press yourself to him, he is all too grateful. He threads his arms around you, drawing you closer, and inhales softly. You smell kind of sweet, kind of flowery. He can tell you’ve just had a shower because your skin is still warm and just the slightest bit damp, tendrils of your hair clinging to your neck.
“You’re so cosy,“ you say, voice muffled by his jacket.
“Well, as long as one of us is comfortable,” he says teasingly.
You laugh again and Akihiko wishes he could press that sound right into his body, keep it somewhere inside him so it could warm his blood on cold days. You pull away too quickly for his liking, making suggestions about where to go, and he allows himself a few moments to stare at you.
“I guess we’ll just go to a coffeeshop, right?“ you ask, leaning against the passenger’s door. ”I’ll buy you hot chocolate.”
“I drive for an hour and you only buy me hot chocolate?“ Akihiko asks with raised eyebrows as he unlocks the car.
“An hour?” you repeat, confused. “You live ten minutes away, why did it take you an hour?”
He hesitates. He should’ve kept his mouth shut. Akihiko is forever forgetting to lie to you - he just can’t bring himself to do it automatically. If you ask something, chances are he’ll tell the truth without thinking twice.
“Just doing something for a friend,” he says airily, opening his door. He’s not exactly lying. “C’mon, get in.”
“What friend?“ you ask, slipping into the passenger’s seat.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry,” Akihiko says, flashing you the most reassuring smile he could muster. “Let’s just go get hot chocolate, okay?”
“Akihiko, if I’m keeping you from something—”
“It’s nothing. Seriously. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be, okay?”
You sit back in your seat, clutching the seatbelt with one hand. Your expression makes it clear that you’re only agreeing for the sake of it, not because you believe him.
“Fine, let’s go.”
Seven years. He’s known you for seven years. Four of them he spent wishing he could have you, one of them he spent revelling in the fact that he finally got you, and two of them he’s spent regretting losing you. Try as he might, Akihiko can’t move past you. It was him that suggested breaking up for university, it was him that broke your heart, it was him that nearly ruined your entire friendship…and he can’t believe he’s taken this long to figure that all out.
He can’t help but feel this all would be much easier to figure out if Napoleon wasn’t in the picture. But he is. He’s one of Akihiko’s closest friends (besides you) and now he’s dating you. And even though he wishes there was someone to blame besides himself, there really isn’t. Regret is the bitterest thing he’s ever tasted. Akihiko thought that he could feel no worse after he had let you go, but he was wrong. If letting you go was a mistake he made, the universe taking you away was his punishment.
Akihiko looks down at your sleeping form. You are curled into a ball, fingers laced tightly and resting against your chest. Your lips are parted in breath, pink and full. Your cheeks are flushed with cold. You are leaning towards him, hair fluttering into your eyes. The afternoon was pleasant and Akihiko knows that it’s time for this to end; he can just wake you up and the dream will be over. He knows it is not his place, but he reaches out to brush the stray strands from your face, tucking them behind your ear. You do not move at his touch, so he allows himself to twirl a lock of your hair around his fingers, marvelling at how soft it feel beneath his fingertips.
He needs to wake you up, let you know that it’s time to go home. As much as he wants to you, he knows you cannot spend forever in his car with him. You have to go home and he has an exam tomorrow. Whether he likes it or not, life goes on.
Akihiko’s eyes settle on your lips. For the year you dated, he spent roughly ten months (give or take) kissing you. He has your kiss memorised: the way you press your fingers to his jaw, titling his mouth to fit with yours; the way you taste, both sweet and just the smallest bit spicy; the way you moan when he kisses you hard, never able to resist him even in the midst of an argument. He’s compared every kiss before you and after you with you and has never met anyone who measures up; he doubts he ever will.
His tongue darts out anxiously, providing no relief for winter’s harsh kiss. He won’t kiss you, not while you’re dating one of his closest friends, of course, but that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. If he’s honest, he spends more time than he wants to thinking about you.
His thoughts are interrupted by a faint vibrating. Akihiko looks around, bewildered and pulling his hand back. The noise rouses you from your sleep, patting your pockets even before you open your eyes. When you pull out your phone, he makes the connection.
“Hello?” you say groggily, resting the phone against your ear. You are still mostly asleep. “Mm, I was. Are you still studying?” Akihiko looks away, feeling as though he’s intruding on something private. He can never bear to overhear you and Napoleon on the phone. It always feels too intimate to him and too much like a harsh reminder. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?” you let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, babe. Yeah, I will. Love you, too.”
Akihiko continues to stare out the window after you’ve hung up, focusing on relaxing his involuntarily tight jaw. It’s been threatening to snow for over a week, yet he’s not seen a single snowflake. It’s just been a cutting cold that makes your insides turn to ice and your breathing come out in sharp gasps.
“I better go,” you say, yawning. “How long have we been home?”
He looks at you, having mostly composed himself. “Just got here.”
“Oh, good timing!” you say, sitting up a little straighter. “You’re just like magic.”
“Like magic?”
“Like magic,” you repeat. “For getting me home without me even knowing.”
“If that’s your definition of magic, I think you should reconsider taking that fantasy creative writing course you took last semester.”
You smack his arm lightly. “And I got an A in it! So I know what I’m talking about!”
“I’m sure you do.”
Buzz.
You glance down at your phone. Against his will, so does Akihiko. He feels his heart drop when he reads Napoleon’s name. There’s a small heart right next to it.
“I better go,” you say, stifling another yawn. You give Akihiko a soft smile. He feels his heart swell, a familiar fluttering wreaking havoc in his stomach that he associates with you. “Thank you for today. I…well, I needed it.”
“For you? Anything.”
When you lean forward, Akihiko, for a heart-stopping moment, thinks you are going to kiss him. Instead, you pull him into a hug, your face burying into his neck. He curls his arm around you at once, unfazed by the discomfort of hugging inside a car.
“I love you,” you murmur.
He closes his eyes. If he tries hard enough, he can imagine it’s three years ago and the two of you are just getting back from a date. He can imagine you will turn this hug into a kiss and spend another half hour inside his car, fogging up the windows with heavy breaths. He can imagine that when you say you love him, you don’t mean it in a platonic way - that you mean it the way he does. He can imagine that you won’t just have tonight together, but the rest of your lives. He can imagine it, at the very least.
“I love you, too.”