Work Text:
Mirio groaned a long groan as he woke up, sitting up in his bed. He clicked the joints I his neck and he rubbed the grogginess out of his eyes. That was his routine, to wake up and immediately get out of bed, at least on weekdays. And that day was not in fact a week day. It was a Saturday, the day he usually set aside to not constantly train and to have some old fashioned chum time with his boyfriend. Technically the chum time started last night, the two boys falling asleep hours past midnight on Mirio's bed, Tamaki enveloped by his partner's strong arms. The smile at the memory subsided into a disappointed groan as he felt the other side of the bed. It was empty and cold. A long sigh left his mouth as he got up, leaning against the wall to regain his balance. Joggers and a tank top, that'd do.
The apartment was dark and lazy, the cloudiness of the morning casting the entire place in grey. After squinting at the morning light peaking through the hastily drawn curtains, Mirio hoped that Tamaki hadn't looked at the same bleak sky on his awakening. Cloudy skies, loud rooms, cold but bright lights, ticking clocks; Tamaki hated every single one of them. They pushed down his optimism, his laughter, his sunniness, and Mirio hated it. He hated seeing the man he loved so hollow when he's in those moods, he hated seeing the hands he wanted to grasp tucked into coat pockets. He hated seeing the face he wanted to run his hands over and to kiss covered by his long hair. He hated seeing the posture that can be so strong and assertive become hunched and reserved. The laughter they shared and enjoyed became slight chuckles, like he was afraid he was being too loud. All of those things, Mirio hated seeing them.
Tamaki's clothes weren't on the floor and the shirt he'd given him was tossed over his desk chair. It was obvious he'd walked out again. The first time that'd happened Mirio failed to be understanding. He immediately assumed things were over. The loneliness turned into spite and while yes, he was forgiving person, a man can still get angry. It wasn't until Tamaki had tears in his eyes and only a weak whisper to use as an explanation that Mirio had accepted it. He accepted that his boyfriend was depressed, and not just an introvert. All of the hardships, the pressure of being a hero, the expectations, they were killing him. No matter how many times confirmations of love were made to him, every single thing in his mind told him it was a lie, that it was over, that he was a joke. It got too much. More than too much. It was a giant black cloud covering the sun, pounding him with storm after storm of poison and acid. Some days the clouds were so bad he couldn't take it because being if he wasn't around anyone he couldn't be rejected or laughed at or talked over. He hated leaving Mirio more than anything but it felt like what he needed to do.
Putting all the bitter thoughts to the side, Mirio pulled his phone out and typed.
"I'll see you when you're ready!! xx" and hit send. Within a few seconds the message had been delivered and read, but no reply came. And he didn't need one, because all he needed was Tamaki to know. Know that he was loved and they still had the rest of Saturday.
Always a Saturday, even with a few clouds in the way.