Chapter Text
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The burning water slowly trickled down my cold face as I stood beneath the shower-head, face twisted in misery. It wasn't hard to upset me; I was a sensitive soul with faucets for eyes. I let the water scorch my skin red as I tried to erase the chilling melancholy that had been seeped in my bones since birth. It had made me sick and frail from the inside out. It took every ounce of willpower I had to raise my arms and continue washing myself clean. I found my eyesight distorted and warped with tears; for what reason, I don't know. Maybe perhaps from the exhaustion that sat deep within my heart and festered, never allowing me to feel like I was above the waves.
I laid on my bed, wrapped in a towel, staring out my window for what felt like centuries. Every minute, every hour, ticked by insistently, reminding me of the time wasted. Of the lack I had in my life. The lack of friends, lack of family, lack of companionship and love. The lack of peace and rest. The lack of a purpose. At some point I crawled out of my hiding and dressed myself, the effort and strain pulling more tears from me. I wondered often if I would ever escape this. I had once, so I should again. But waiting, hoping, and praying for that end you cannot see is an exhausting, sad wait. I wanted to crawl into my bed again and sleep, an attempt to soothe the everlasting ache that grew with every moment of wakefulness. In my sleep, I did not think. I did not remember. I did not wonder. But in waking, I had to fight every moment to remember why I should continue on. But, despite the relief promised in sleep, I turned away from my bed and left my room.
Dragging myself along felt like walking through an ever-grey swamp, the mud sticking to me and dragging me down. I felt my heart weigh heavy in my chest as I took shaky steps down stairs and through halls. Finally, after eons of wandering, I found where I had fought to get myself too. With much effort, I raised my hand to knock upon his door.
"...Fumikage? Are you there?"
Relief flooded my senses and tears welled in my eyes as I heard his feet shuffle behind the door. The sweet sound of the lock clicking and the door hinges squeaking made me smile as I saw his face emerge from the darkness behind the door.
"Y/n- I wasn't expecting you."
I looked down to my shoes, shame blossoming in my chest and bubbling in my throat as I realized how stupid it was to bother him. But, despite myself, my voice spoke anyway. "Sorry, I should've texted you. Is it alright if I stay with you for a bit? We don't have to do anything, I just want to chill with you is all." It was hard to swallow the lump of truth I hid from him. The fact that, in that moment, more than anything else, I needed him. All I wanted was to break and cry and ask if I could lay my head on his shoulder. But I kept my composure wall-thick as he opened the door further, beckoning me in behind him. "Of course, I don't mind."
I closed the door softly, the click resounding loudly in the quiet room. He took a seat on his bed and opened his phone, motioning with his hand to the spot across from him. "You can sit here if you'd like." I prayed in the dim light he couldn't see the glassy sheen in my eyes as I walked over and sat, leaning against the wall. One simple kind gesture and the mere presence of a friend was enough to make the storm inside me teeter on the edge of explosion. I opened my phone, staring blankly at my screen as I pretended to scroll. I had no focus to give to anything.
After a few minutes of silence, his voice broke through the quiet, reverberating in my chest. "Y/n? Are you alright?"
It took every ounce of strength to force back those tears and swallow them as I looked to him and smiled. "Yeah, I'm fine." But I should have known he'd see through. He slowly put down his phone and looked me in the eyes, and all I saw was concern and pity. I wanted to scream, to shout, "Please, please don't look at me like that. Like I'm about to break. Anyone, anyone but you." But I simply looked away and pretended to scroll. I felt his eyes on me as I tapped through anything and everything on my phone; from my camera roll to my email, I searched for anything to distract me from the burning hole of his eyes on my face. But it was a fruitless fight, and I found my eyes swell with those damned tears. I didn't want to hide from him. I wanted to tell him. But I didn't know how to exist without lies. I didn't know how to exist without a wall between me and everyone else. I needed that wall, relied on that wall, to let me survive. It was so foreign to me now, the idea that it didn't have to be that way.
I felt his hand touch mine and jumped, the contact feeling so strange to my touch-starved skin. He moved my phone away from my face, but I refused to move my eyes from where they stared into his carpet. I knew that if I looked up, if I saw him, I would break. So I swallowed and blinked and swore at myself internally- anything to keep the tears in. But I felt his fingers- gentle, slow, and callused- brush my hair from my eyes and turn my head. I felt my face twist and strain as the tears threatened to breech my eyeline. I refused to look him in the face. My eyes bore holes into his chest as I heard his voice swim in my ears. I couldn't hear what he was saying, could only hear the deafening volume of my thoughts as they screamed to run and hide away and never face him again. He must have known I did not hear him, must have seen it on my face, because he took his rough but gentle hand and tilted my face towards him till I couldn't look anywhere but his eyes.
And I saw it.
The panic, worry, fear, concern. I saw his care for me and I wanted to squirm away from his touch. I wanted him to both cradle me in his arms, to never let me go, as well as tell me to get the fuck out of his room. I wanted him to give me a reason to hate him and run away, a reason to justify my fear of vulnerability. I wanted to slap his hands away from my face and tell him, "Don't ever fucking look at me like that again. I am not breakable." But I couldn't do that. I would never do that. Not to him. So as I felt the tears begin to fall and the shame burn at my insides, I did all I could. I closed my eyes and willed the feelings away. I told myself I had no right to feel how I felt, to suck it the fuck up because my friend doesn't need to see me like this.
Every bit of that wall I built back up came crumbling back down as I felt him pull me into his chest.
At first, the gesture of comfort alarmed me. I couldn't understand what he was doing, and confusion plagued my mind as my head was buried into his embrace. But as his arms wrapped around me and I felt the weight of his head on mine, I realized and couldn't hold back anymore. Sobs wracked through me as I shook in his arms, fingers digging into his back as I clung to him in an attempt to hold myself together. I felt my body ripping at the seams as everything came rushing out, violent and overwhelming. Panic overtook me and I clung to him as my lifeline, my tears soaking his shirt as he held me together like broken glass. He muttered words that I could not hear nor process, and I cried harder as I desperately tried to calm myself. But one sentence, one string of words, broke through the panicked fog in my mind like the sun in a noon summer sky.
"You're safe."
I felt time stop for a moment. His words echoed around my brain like coins in a washer, rattling my bones and soul. For that moment, my tears ceased. For that single moment, I felt that foreign feeling I had never really once experienced: safety. As soon as I processed- as soon as I realized- what he had said to me, a tidal wave of new emotions overtook me. Tears once again spilled from my eyes and ran down my face as I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my head on his shoulder. We stayed like that for a long time; me clinging to him as he murmured words of comfort into my hair, his hands running along my back. I could have died like that, decayed in his arms and let flowers grow between my bones. For the long while I stayed there, the world felt a little bit kinder. He rocked me gently and at one point I believe he even brushed his fingers through my hair. At one point, I believe I smiled.
Eventually, he moved away from me, the chill seeping into me at his missing warmth. His hands reached up to brush the wetness from my face, and I stared into nothingness as I felt him gently move me to lay. I felt emptied-out and exhausted, my eyes heavy as my head laid on his pillow. I watched as he laid down next to me, his face inches from mine. "Would you like to talk about it?" His eyes studied me carefully, his hand still rested on my cheek. I couldn't form thoughts, let alone form words, and it took immense energy to even shake my head 'no'. He nodded and brushed a stray hair from my face, and I sighed silently at how his skin felt on mine after so long of being alone. "That's alright. Just rest for now." I wanted to cry again at his words, at how gentle he treated me when it would have been so easy to break me instead. But I had cried all the tears I had to give, and I let quiet peace overtake me as I felt him begin to hold me again.
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