Work Text:
From head to toe Yuuri was clothed in haute couture, from his Jean Paul Gaultier jeans to his bright cerise Enrico Coveri sweater, well, almost head to toe, his feet were naked even if he was smoking his usual coffin nail out on the balcony in mid-January. It was one of those nights where he found himself overthinking about what his life meant, what life meant at all, and an elementary void got its vicious grip on his soulless heart. He loathed those nights.
Inside the house, Sora was sitting on the couch in his childish pajamas and hugging his favourite teddy bear, sipping the hot white chocolate with cinnamon he made himself as a comfort drink with his store-bought cookies. «Hey, aren't you going to get in and close the window? I'm freezing!» he yelled even if Yuuri could have heard him at a perfectly normal volume. Whenever his dark amorfous friend peeked inside him, he always got this urge to bite his bitchy lips and hear his whining, torture him like Sora would torture his toys, pull his hair, anything to hurt him... but other times, like that time, he felt too empty to pursue his sadistic instincts. He wasn't confident anymore in how he was trying to get some order in his life, having a normal relationship with normal problems with a not so normal person, but if the craziest thing he would do was being out smoking without socks, maybe he wasn't that beyond emotional repair. And at least, Sora's unhealthy habits had restricted themselves to eating too much sugar.
The madame of the massage parlor on the opposide side of the road covered herself in her thick coat and turned off the lights. With a sigh, Yuuri murmured «Sorry, coming» throwing the ashes below him.