Chapter Text
Futakuchi looked up from his plate, still filled with food, when he heard his phone alert him. He reached across the table to grab his phone on the other end of the table, where a clear space for another person had been set up. Dinner made for two, being eaten alone.
The food had gone cold on both plates.
Futakuchi continued to move his fork around for a couple of meaningless seconds, decided he wasn’t hungry, and stood to throw his dinner in the trash. He hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days, excluding the protein drinks he had on some mornings (once or twice in a week? He doesn’t bother counting.). Besides, it wasn’t like he wanted to. He didn’t really need it. After a moment’s thought, he leaned over and took the other plate. He threw the food on that plate in the bin too.
It wasn’t like Oikawa was going to come home to eat it. Really, it was his fault for not getting out of the habit of making meals for two.
Only then did he check the text message on his lock screen, the background a selfie with himself and Oikawa when they first began to date. Back then, they actually seemed to be properly in love. Futakuchi sighed to himself.
That was six months ago.
Kuroo had sent him a text, asking whether he had eaten.
Futakuchi stared at the message and shut down his phone. If Oikawa wasn’t the one asking over his health, then he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anyone else. It was his fault for being like this, wishing he was here, but it was no use.
But despite all of that, he still wished for it. He wished for lazy mornings with the sun in Oikawa’s sleeping face, Futakuchi just staring quietly as the other slumbered peacefully. He wished for getting random presents on no particular day, no clear reason apart from ‘Just because.’ How he wanted to hear the keys in the lock, the door swinging open and an ‘I’m home.’ No matter how tired he was and how much he wanted to sleep, he would wait to greet Oikawa with a warm ‘Welcome home.’ Just to see a fatigued smile from Oikawa, a small ‘Sorry for making you wait for me,’ to feel his gentle embrace, to feel his warmth and kindness and love.
They didn’t even have that anymore. Futakuchi would try to wait, he really did. But soon enough he realised that all of it was pointless, all that curling up on the sofa, shivering, waiting for a text which wouldn’t come.
It was all so, so painful, and Futakuchi only continued to stay up because he still wanted to believe in Oikawa. Because he was such an idiot, a stupid, stupid idiot who should know better. But every time he saw a perfect photo of Oikawa standing next to a famous actress or model online, perfect fake smiles and bodies standing way too close, the belief and trust slowly broke down, and it left Futakuchi with an ache in his chest, which could be fixed, but deemed to be incurable because the remedy he needed was out of reach.
Futakuchi, after looking at the clock and deciding that Oikawa was not going to text him, or call him today either, trudged back to his- their bedroom. He switched the ceiling lights on, not bothering to turn on the multi-coloured fairy lights which surrounded the walls just because Oikawa thought it would ‘look cool’.
Futakuchi flopped down on the bed, too big and lonely and cold to sleep alone. But he just had to bear it, because no one could fill up that large space reserved for Oikawa and Oikawa only. He laughed bitterly to himself and curled up on the mattress.
Silence.
And then, “Oh, I forgot to do that today.”
Futakuchi rolled off the bed and walked over to the bookshelf filled with magazines, which all had Oikawa featured in them, whether he was flashing his bright smile on the cover page, or just mentioned in a small article in the corner that could easily be missed. He stood on his tiptoes and reached for the rectangular metal can on top of it, then brought it back to the bed, sitting down. He unscrewed the lid.
Marbles.
Marbles filled the whole container, similar in shape, perfect spheres, a range of fiery reds, ocean blues and forest greens, an occasional happy yellow one popping up here and then. Marbles filled to the brim, gleaming, waiting silently for someone to take them out of the box. Marbles holding their breaths, a secret treasure chest waiting to be opened, for the light to hit them and make them shine. Beautiful, perfect marbles.
So unlike their relationship.
Futakuchi took one nearest to the top, a sapphire blue, a sparkling gem. He held it up to the light, admiring how the rays of white and gold scattered blue on his palm, like glitter. Like stars. Shining stars in the universe. The universe, so wide and never-ending, so big but so beautiful, making you feel entranced, trapped in the beauty, making you hold your breath, getting engrossed with every single part of it.
It reminded him of Oikawa.
Futakuchi stared at the marble for a few moments longer, taking in the beauty until it didn’t seem as bright as the before anymore. He lowered his hand, the marble dimmed and dulled, sparkle diminishing. He closed his palm, marble cold inside his hand.
He tilted his head a little bit higher, and brought his closed fist up to his mouth. He parted them, a tiny gap between his upper and lower lips. Everything stilled.
His grip loosened.
A few moments later, he swallowed.
He took in a sharp intake of breath as he felt his chest constrict slightly, almost coughing it back up. He held his breath to force himself to stay still.
His body relaxed. All Futakuchi was left with was a rectangular can, one marble lighter, and the emptiness and loneliness inside, feeling a little better. The physical pain in his body masked the bitterness, the tangle of emotions which was tied too tightly to unknot.
Futakuchi stood back up, closing the lid, and walked back to the bookshelf. He got onto his tiptoes and placed the can where it was.
He fell down onto the bed, chest still feeling tight, but being distracted enough to make him forget a little.
The pain and sadness was reduced to a dull ache now, and Futakuchi shut his eyes, throwing the covers on top of himself, far from happy, but near enough that he didn’t cry.
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