Work Text:
January 9th. Late evening. Ramuda had spent the day sketching, working on commissions, sewing...anything he could think of to distract himself. He hadn’t gone out that day at all, and he’d barely eaten anything, either. He couldn’t get himself to.
How long had it been since… that happened? He couldn’t remember. Five months? Six months? No matter. Regardless of how long it was, it was still tearing him apart.
He got up from his desk, finally, after barely moving for hours. It was probably about time he ate or drank something. Hot chocolate would be fine for now, he supposed. When he opened the cabinet to reach for a mug, he found himself instinctively grabbing a second one. He froze in place afterward, simply staring at the mug in question. Slowly, he put it back, a sinking feeling in his chest. Shaking it off, he put it back.
The room was silent when he sat down at the table, taking a deep breath. He stared across the table, at the empty chair on the other side. Everything felt...cold. Maybe he should turn the heat up. But...he didn’t want to get up. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and sat it on the table, staring blankly at it. He knew what today was, and it was hard not to let the muscle memory take over. It’s not like he ever deleted the number. He couldn’t bring himself to.
Despite the time that had passed, he could still nearly feel him there. He was always there when it was cold, when it was dark, when it was...lonely. Before he knew it, he found himself shaking as he gripped the mug of hot chocolate, grinding his teeth.
There were so many things he’d wished he could say. As much as he wanted to replace all these sinking, yearning feelings with hatred, it wouldn’t work. No matter how hard he tried. But, he hated it. This love felt...disgusting. His entire being was absolutely haunted with this love .
He slid the mug across the table to the other side, closer to the opposite chair. Maybe if he waited long enough, something would be different. Maybe. He wished that was the case, anyway.
Clenching both of his hands into fists, he furrowed his brow as he stared down at his lap.
“... J-Jakurai. ” He muttered to himself, biting back tears.
I want to let you in again, I want to feel you again, I miss you so much, it hurts…
A few tears finally fell onto his lap before spoke into the empty again.
“...Happy birthday.”