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“Why do you smoke?”
The question was sudden, taking him off guard, and it was enough to annoy him already. Roxas tended to ask him random things at times he least expected them. He usually went along with it, just giving Roxas what he wanted with no spoken protest, but right now was definitely not the moment.
Winter wasn’t exactly his thing but he enjoyed his short breaks by the window, just leaning against the edge, elbows supporting him while he inhaled the fresh air and noisome smoke at once. The seasons didn’t matter at all actually, it was always just him and his second favorite thing in the world that took his troubles away for a few pleasant toxic minutes. Surely, they would come back hitting him full force but at least, he had some respite.
“I don’t know,” he answered, bored but honest anyway, contemplating the small cigarette burning slowly like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. The smoke formed a thin gray mist, the same color as the sky, that flew and vanished into the cold winter air and the warmth between his fingers was somewhat comforting, had always been ever since he had started using it as a way to deal with his stress and fears and shitty life. It had given him a distraction from the cold of the nights he used to spend outside as a wandering dog, homeless and so, so young.
He shrugged, keeping his past and malaise locked in his mind, away from Roxas. They were his secrets, things that the blonde boy couldn’t be aware of.
“Started long ago, it’s a habit now.”
“Oh.”
There, he got his answer, and Vanitas earned his peace at last. He didn’t like having conversations while smoking. It ruined the moment, no matter who spoke. And Roxas knew it, usually let him be for a short instant until he was done. Except now, apparently.
“It smells bad,” Roxas remarked, talking again as Vanitas breathed in a long puff of toxicity, and the dark-haired boy sighed loudly, exhaling smoke from his mouth and nose like a chimney and making sure to let the other know he was seriously getting on his nerves.
“If you’re trying to have an argument, just say so ‘cause I’ve got plenty of things concerning you to complain about, too,” he snapped, each word like a bite that he hoped Roxas could feel. Was it too much to ask for five minutes of silence so he could enjoy his damn cigarette by the window? He almost missed living alone, just for moments like this.
But then, without Roxas, those moments wouldn’t be worth it. Without that light, the void would get unbearable.
Now, there was no silence, only Roxas’s sweet chuckle filling the room and making Vanitas more irritated, more confused. Oh, he hated how much he loved that noise. Roxas’s laughter was soft, sometimes barely audible, but very high-pitched, displaying all the joy and innocence that made him who he was. An obvious contrast to Vanitas’s own usual dark and hoarse snicker, full of knowledge and bad experiences and contempt towards the world.
He turned to him, raising a brow, golden eyes narrowed at the sight of the small man curled up on the couch with a hand over his mouth to stifle his sounds. Strangely, he didn’t look like he was trying to start a fight. Roxas didn’t usually just laugh when Vanitas talked badly. He would stand up and confront him, daring and challenging and this simple action was enough to put him back in his place. Roxas was like a coin, two faced with one naive and adorable side and another intimidating and sometimes dangerous side which appeared mostly when he faced unfair treatment. It was the part of him to avoid most for safety.
“Why are you laughing?” Vanitas asked, frowning in confusion.
“Nothing,” Roxas answered with a shrug. “It’s just… You’re so quick to get mad.”
That was it?
“Yeah, well, you’re bothering me while I’m smoking and you know damn well I hate that. Plus, you’re one to talk.”
A glance towards his cigarette and Vanitas almost stomped his foot against the carpeting of their living room. It was getting so short, so close to its end, and he didn’t even manage to enjoy it fully. Because of Roxas. Because of how distracting he and his stupid giggle were. Fuck.
“What I meant was that it’s cute,” the blonde boy stated with that terrible and endearing smile of his, adding more to Vanitas’s frustration.
“What’s so cute about it? Just shut up, idiot.”
Oh, Roxas couldn’t be more wrong. Between the two, he, who was practically buried under two thick blankets and an oversize hoodie that made him look even smaller than he was and covered his hands to the tip of his fingers, had the role of being the cute one. Not Vanitas who was standing in a simple black shirt like he was immune to the freezing season.
However, that adorable mouth wouldn’t shut up. It spread wider to reveal a toothy, annoying grin that made Vanitas almost forget all about his cigarette.
“But it’s so cold,” he complained in a whiny voice that sounded too false. “I will shut up but only if you close the window. Maybe you also could come here and warm me up.”
Roxas pressed himself further into the couch, snuggling a large pillow and making sure to maintain their eye contact, and with this slow, simple action, Vanitas understood. He knew what Roxas wanted and rolled his eyes with a click of his tongue. That guy sure could be clingy.
But he had a choice now. Cuddles or smoking. Which would he pick?
He had tried smoking for years, several times a day, but it had only brought him a fleeting peace that he got too familiar with and perhaps even addicted to. Around it were only negativity and apprehension concerning the future. Once the cigarette was gone, the bad thoughts replaced it. So he added another one, and another, and another again until his days were filled with breaks, regardless of his health and as long as it took the pain away.
Cuddles, on the other hand…
They lasted for a long while. Holding Roxas, even if it was just for a few seconds, offered him a warmth that countered the coldness of his memories and made him feel appreciated and wanted, and it stayed. It remained there, in his heart, spreading further into his body until he was consumed and happy. Roxas’s hugs gave him a frightening satisfaction that he couldn’t understand. They made the hours he spent at his detestable work bearable, they changed his view on his past and made him believe that maybe every hardship he had faced was only meant to lead him to his light. They made him feel safe and look forward to the next, secretly.
It was love. A love that had grown quietly within him for months after meeting Roxas and made him too aware of its presence, like a seed turning into a plant. A couple of years later, it had become a flower. Beautiful and pure, alive with their union.
But this love was stained. A flower lived until a hand tore it from the ground selfishly and Vanitas feared this. Sometimes, he rejected Roxas willingly, too insecure to feel worthy, too afraid to disappoint and hurt him. Often, he lied about himself, about his days at work, about his past because these were things Roxas had to be ignorant of or else, the truth would burst their bubble. Roxas seemed strangely happy around Vanitas so he was certain that if he knew, oh God, if he knew about his past, about who he really was, a liar and a thief, he would leave.
So he covered it all up with a cigarette pack case. It was easier to make Roxas believe he had this awful addiction than to explain that his life was only a succession of bad events, that he used to be homeless, had persistent anxiety that made him too irritable and was this close to losing the only job he had ever found. If he couldn’t appear as perfect as he wished in front of Roxas, he could at least hide the fact he was selfish and completely head over heels for him. Lying to him was only the result of his love and it better than losing him. However, sometimes, it was too much for Vanitas to bear, especially at times where it was just the two of them and Roxas could get slightly too curious.
Vanitas almost caved in more than once and this day was no different. Roxas looked too snug for him to simply ignore.
He looked back at the short stick that burned pointlessly in between his fingers and didn’t even bother bringing it back to his lips one last time. He threw it away without a second thought through the window which he closed quickly, silencing the ceaseless noise of the busy street outside.
Inside, he realized how quiet it was. Apart from the low voice coming from the documentary that played on the television, the apartment was calm and relaxing. A perfect atmosphere for cuddles, indeed.
Roxas hadn’t moved and was waiting patiently, blinking up at Vanitas with those long, dark lashes that brought out the blue of his eyes.
A single step and Vanitas paused, realization dawning on him. He couldn’t cuddle like this. Roxas hated the odor the cigarettes left on his clothes and in his mouth and hair, though he never really complained about it. But Vanitas knew. This time, he would do this the right way. Just once.
“Wait a sec’.”
His disappearance lasted for five minutes. He worked fast in the small bathroom to change his shirt, brush his teeth and give himself a puff of the fragrance Roxas had bought for him as a birthday gift the year before. Throwing a breath mint into his mouth, he sucked on it for a minute, allowing the flavor and freshness to erase the smell of smoking, cleansing his sin before he returned to the living room. He saw Roxas’s eyes and fluffy hair perk up and an annoying, surprised expression crossed his features.
“Change your shirt?” he heard but ignored. Obviously, he did but it was embarrassing to say why. Roxas didn’t need that explanation, he could assume on his own.
Still, Vanitas shuffled to the couch and dropped on it right beside the blonde head, sprawling ungracefully and forcing his way to be comfortable. He caught a glimpse of Roxas’s obstinate smile and had to refrain from mirroring it. He was glad and excited to have a moment with his boyfriend but his pride was always in the way when it came to showing it to him. Yet, Roxas was always accepting and compassionate and again, Vanitas wondered why they were together when he did nothing to prove that he loved him. Roxas always found the words, always held his hand, always initiated the hugs. His life hadn’t been easy either but he had learned to be affectionate while all Vanitas had learned was to reject happiness and be mean and smoke.
Roxas snuggled closer and his head dropped on top of Vanitas’s chest, his hand working to cover them both with the blankets before wrapping loosely around his waist. Too much attention, too much proximity. Vanitas looked away with a glare at the television, the wasted end of the cigarette still vivid in his mind.
“If you wanted me to watch this stupid documentary with you, you could have just asked instead of acting like that,” he grumbled.
Roxas glanced up at him quickly before looking back at the screen, snorting.
“I don’t really care about it. I just wanted to be with you.”
Me too.
He longed to say this but his mouth stayed shut.
Why was it so hard to tell? Why couldn’t he be as free and careless as Roxas?
Somehow, it was scary. Had always been. Opening up to someone and letting them see his vulnerable and affectionate side was more frightening than anything he had had to face in the past. He had learned to keep a cold and strong facade in front of danger, insults and pain, but not in front of love. He could lie about many things but not about loving Roxas, so instead, he gave in to his fear and didn’t say nor show anything except for a few, rare times. He couldn’t let anyone know what his weakness was.
He wanted to, however. He wanted to let Roxas know that he really did like spending time with him. It was so tempting, it could change their lopsided relationship to a healthy and balanced one. Unfortunately, before his mouth even opened to give an awkward reply, he felt the opportunity slip through his fingers like dust as Roxas looked down and focused on the television instead. It was always like this. Roxas paved the way for him to walk on and Vanitas chose a different path silently which he regretted as soon as he took the first step.
They were sitting in silence, the silence that Vanitas had been looking for but hated as of now, both trying to absorb information through the documentary about how birds voyaged and fed their nestlings. Vanitas couldn’t care less. All he managed to concentrate on were the vanilla scent that emanated from Roxas and the arms that were around him under the blankets.
Was he still cold?
It was difficult to say. He didn’t seem to be shivering, thankfully, but since he had complained earlier…
Vanitas dared. He hesitated but raised his hand slowly and placed it on Roxas’s side, holding him closer in the hope that it could help and that, somehow, it could make up for the fact he had been unable to tell him anything so far. He heard a contented sigh coming from below and allowed his head to rest on top of Roxas’s for a few soothing seconds, though it ended up dangling oddly to the side as he still put some distance between. Be tender but not too tender.
“It’s not just a habit, is it?” the blonde boy asked suddenly and Vanitas moved a little to meet those sapphire eyes that stared right through him and seemed to read him like an open book. “You smoke when you’re stressed.”
Vanitas’s first instinct was to scowl and protest, to give a snappy reply like he always did when Roxas somehow figured out the things he had been hiding perfectly well, but he found nothing to say. Roxas was right and he couldn’t even deny it, but he didn’t want the mask to slip away so he gave no answer. Silence always worked better when it came to admitting the truth.
Roxas sat up and raised a hand to Vanitas’s jaw, cupping it with delicate fingers that felt too electric and cold on his skin.
“Is that how you’re feeling right now?” he asked worriedly as if he was already aware of everything Vanitas had been thinking about, but once more, he received no answer from the other boy who stubbornly looked away.
“What’s on your mind?”
Nothing and everything. You.
The question made his heart race and, though he managed to keep a blank facade, Roxas was probably hearing it right now with his ear still so close to his chest. It felt like it would burst.
Vanitas thought about his question. He wasn’t sure but there was something, an implacable idea that came to his mind whenever he looked at Roxas from afar when he picked him up from university or up close when they were sleeping, or cuddling like now. He didn’t deserve him.
From the day they had started to mix with each other to the current instant, Vanitas had been struggling with himself, constantly wondering why Roxas had bothered rubbing shoulders with him. And it had been worse when they started dating. He could barely remember how it had happened but somewhere in his hazy memory, he saw himself clinging onto a single rose in one hand and ice cream in the other, both trembling badly as he prepared himself to confess and expected to be rejected. Yet, Roxas had given him an opening that time, and he was giving him another one now, another way to confess his bad ways and tell him the truth by indirectly asking if he was okay.
Vanitas wanted to be trusted. But not like that, not when he was lying and hiding like a hypocrite. He wanted to be trusted with the truth, to redo it all again, yet this time, he was even more certain to be rejected. After all, there would be no reason for Roxas to stick with him like he was currently doing.
Why would Roxas want him when he had nothing to offer, when he could lose his job and this apartment they had worked so hard to get in the blink of an eye because he couldn’t shut up when he was ordered to? Why would Roxas want him when he opened the window in the winter and made him cold and invaded his space and air with those fucking cigarettes?
Why was he still here, touching his face so gently and looking at him with so much care that it made him sick?
“Why did you pick me?” he asked in a low, husky voice, still avoiding Roxas’s gaze.
“Huh?”
Memories flooded back. Curiously, Vanitas remembered the tall guy from Roxas’s university, the one his boyfriend apparently used to have a crush on. He had seen him once and hated him right away. Came from a rich family, had unusual long silver hair and was tall and nice and didn’t smoke. His opposite, better in every way. Perfect.
“That guy you liked. You could have been with him. So why me?”
Vanitas couldn’t see him but he knew Roxas was grimacing. He disliked being reminded of his ‘old stupid feelings’.
“Well...” he started, hesitant. “I did like him but it didn’t make it mutual. Crushes come and go. Also… He’s not you.”
Not him, indeed. The other guy had a big house, money and good friends. Vanitas had cigarettes.
If Roxas had been a smoker, too, they could have shared everything, their cigarettes, and their secrets. They would have been equals. But they couldn’t because Roxas was better than this. He was cute, nice and smart. Perfect, also. There was no way that guy couldn’t have liked him back when the two were alike.
“What do you mean?” he asked dumbly although the answer was clear to him, he was curious to hear what he had to say, eager to listen to his voice. Roxas seemed to think about it seriously, humming in the softest, loveliest way.
“When my locker got broken, you fixed it. When my phone got stolen, you found it for me. When I missed my bus and had to wander under the rain late at night, you walked me home although you said you lived very far. You kept calling me a dumbass for always getting in trouble but you still helped and never asked for anything in return. It may sound dumb but you’ve been there for me from the start and as we got to know each other more, I found that you weren’t as bad as the others said and I wanted to be there for you as well. You just made me forget about him. Or rather… You made me realize I didn’t like him so much in the end.”
Funny. Vanitas hadn’t willingly helped him at first. Everything had just been accidental and yet, strangely, it had become normal over time. All Vanitas had wanted was only to compensate for what Roxas brought to him every day; warmth and the illusion that he had a real friend.
“It does sound dumb. You weren’t supposed to let a stranger help you like this. Now, look. You’re dating a smoker. And you hate smokers, I know it.”
“What? Vanitas...”
Roxas shook his head and laughed again, the sweet sound similar to music to Vanitas’s ears.
“You smoking is the least of my problems. I do care about you and your health and I wish you’d stop but… It’s not something I can force you to do. And I’m not telling you this because it’s not annoying, because I mean, it really is, but you come first. I don’t mind dating a smoker if it’s you. Nothing could change the way I see you because I love you.”
Those words… They just didn’t make sense. They never did, as true as they sounded. Roxas’s friends all said they couldn’t date because Vanitas smoked, that he should just give up because it was something he hated. It was part of Vanitas, the same way Roxas was often associated with summer and ice cream. So how could he truly love him if he was made of something he despised?
“Why? Why do you love me?” he asked, finally looking back at Roxas who answered with no hesitation.
“Love has no reason.”
Love has no reason. He repeated the sentence over and over in his head, trying to memorize and understand it. It rang a bell, for he knew what it was like.
He hadn’t had any reason to help Roxas. He hadn’t had any reason to want to consistently meet him after work. He hadn’t had any reason to care for him and make sure he arrived home safe every day. He hadn’t had any reason to want to live with him only a year after they had begun dating. And, much like Roxas himself, he didn’t have any reason to love him. They had met in a corner when their paths crossed randomly and again, for this, there was no reason. Some would call it destiny but for Vanitas, it was mere luck.
On the other hand, if he thought about it, he had reasons to smoke. He had started in school because the other cool kids thought it would make them even cooler and more mature. Copying the adults as though they were good examples. Then, later, he had continued because the man who had taken care of him but also tormented him continuously wouldn’t stop doing it in their awful house, so he had followed simply. After dropping out of high school and being kicked out of home, he had spent the rest of the money he had saved on just a few packs of cigarettes that he had proceeded to empty day by day because they had kept his hand warm from the cold and his mind busy from the ruthlessness of the streets and their people. So many things he had faced and just as many things he had contained and forgotten through smoking. It had almost mattered more than food and water, more than surviving because he sure hadn’t wanted this life but he’d at least have as many good things from it as he could.
Then, he had met Roxas and, without any reason at first, he had made him want to try and live a little longer. What he brought him was beyond anything his cigarettes had taken away. Moments with Roxas didn’t just erase his bad experiences, they made him willing to go through each of them again and again if it meant seeing him once. They made him believe that this life he had been ready to toss aside for five-minute breaks was actually worth living for more and that this world wasn’t just darkness. There was light, too. A light that had made him want to fight harder, to look for a job and save himself and to be alive.
Roxas was his responsibility now. He had to constantly make sure he was okay, safe and warm although he was aware that he could take care of himself very well. It wasn’t so much for Roxas in the end, but more for Vanitas himself, just so that he could feel like he belonged somewhere, like he mattered to the best person he had ever met.
Even if it was hard for him to believe so, he understood Roxas because he shared the same feelings. They loved each other and Roxas proved it by bringing changes into their lives while Vanitas struggled with his routine and his past. Perhaps he had to make a change for once. One step so he could be a better version of himself. For Roxas.
“I’m going to quit smoking,” he blurted out on impulse, making Roxas watch him with a shocked expression.
“Wha-- Wait. Are you serious?”
Vanitas nodded and made sure to keep a straight, determined face. He didn’t want Roxas to doubt him now. He was ready to give up on it forever if it meant replacing his breaks with moments like this, with his lover. They were what made him feel better, truly, and it had taken him over three years to come to this conclusion. Better late than never, he supposed.
Roxas frowned, face twisting slightly into that same concerned expression he always wore when Vanitas got mad at seemingly nothing or woke up from a nightmare.
“Why suddenly? You love it so much.”
No reason, he almost replied dismissively. But he opted for sincerity this time. Roxas deserved it for always being honest unlike him.
“No. I love you more.”
The words slipped on his tongue in an unfamiliar roll and while it was a relief to finally confess them, the lack of response on Roxas’s side made him nervous. He sat there, mouth slightly open and hand dropping to Vanitas’s shoulder as if he had just heard the most awful news.
Vanitas was very close to withdrawing from this whole situation and retreat to the bedroom to forget it with yet another cigarette but the idea was completely destroyed as soon as a pillow hit him right on the face and was pressed by two hands against it, blackening his vision. While he tried to push it away, he heard laughter again but it wasn’t like anything Roxas had given before. It was loud and unfeigned, a new song that Vanitas was discovering and that made his heart skip a beat.
The pillow was thrown to the side and revealed a slightly breathless Vanitas. His gaze found Roxas with his rosy cheeks, covered with playfulness and shyness, two sentiments quite similar the ones he had had on their very first date. It was a happy memory even though they hadn’t done anything extraordinary. Just a few hours at a cheap restaurant before taking a walk by the lake on a summer night. Roxas had talked much about whatever was crossing his mind and Vanitas had smiled genuinely because for once, something had gone right in his life.
With this in mind, he could only assume that what Roxas was feeling right now was positive. Therefore, he managed to control his anxiousness and sat up.
“What the hell was that?” he asked, giving Roxas his best scowl but it seemed to barely affect him. The silly look on his face wouldn’t disappear and instead, he leaned closer and grabbed Vanitas’s hand with both hands and a firmer grip this time.
“I’m happy, that’s all.”
A simple, chaste kiss was placed to his lips and with this, he could feel all the relief and joy from Roxas, leaving him and blending with Vanitas’s own emotions. With this, he realized that he might not have been the only one with doubts. Perhaps he had feared how their relationship would evolve. He understood it, it wasn’t that hard to guess.
For Vanitas, giving up on smoking meant turning the page of his book and opening his heart to Roxas to be more honest and give him what he truly deserved. For Roxas, on the other hand, it probably meant that they could finally walk on the same path and that their efforts weren’t vain.
“Thank you,” Roxas murmured in a soft breath as he pulled away. A smile spread onto Vanitas’s features, breaking his usual frown and turning it into something sincere. A small preview of what he hid under his mask, of what he longed to show without fear.
“Don’t thank me yet, silly,” he said and raised a hand to ruffle Roxas’s already messy hair. “I’ll probably have to deal with side effects and you’ll definitely have to deal with a moody me.”
“But you’re always moody.”
“Says you.”
Vanitas flicked Roxas’s forehead lightly but hard enough for him to feel it, earning a pout. He expected Roxas to retort or to copy his action as revenge but instead, he felt a pair of arms snake around him above his shoulders. With Roxas now practically lying on top of him, Vanitas was trapped in this embrace but his body didn’t stiffen the way it used to. This time, he didn’t feel like running away and taking his lighter. This time, he could hold him with both arms, too, and breathe his scent and love him as he had always been supposed to.
“I’ll try to not be so moody,” he told him, the start of a second confession that already made him feel like a brand new person. “I swear I’ll be better. Quitting smoking is only the beginning.”
Slowly, he’d ready himself to tell Roxas everything. The imaginary wall between them was still there but Vanitas could see the cracks on it and soon, maybe, with this first step, they could break it together once and for all. Roxas clinging tighter to him and whispering to him only gave him the confirmation he needed.
“Take your time.”
They could be better, and they would, no matter how long it would take.