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rindou swears god picks favorites.
an endless barrage of rain accompanied him through the entire ride to your place, a treacherous journey mostly completed out of sheer spite at the shitty weather. and maybe the slightest of concerns.
now, at your very own home, the eye of night greets him from her spot in the cloudless sky. not a hint of storm, but constellations and even fucking jupiter.
"you made it," you skid out your door in pajamas not meant for the outside. among your disaster of a get-up he can spot a shirt he grew out of years ago. faded, worn out.
rindou revs the engine. maybe he would pick favorites too.
that is, until you lock the door and fling your keys, never to be seen again under the scrutiny of dusk.
any previous infatuation is overridden by complete confusion, "the hell?"
"take me somewhere far."
"what does that even-" rindou stops himself mid sentence. "do i look like a taxi?"
your eyes are lost, clouded with the weight of nothingness. "you act like one—came as soon as i texted you."
driving around the precinct with no set destination is but a common occurrence between you two. a duo of youthful spirits taking the streets by sheer negligence of anyone else in the world.
just yourself and rindou haitani.
the smudged makeup bleeding across your face and eyes says little about high-spirits and more about despondency, though.
"fuck's wrong with you?" somehow it spoke more concern than insult through tone.
"you don't ask questions, you drive."
"you're not even on the bike, smartass."
one blink, the dark streets no longer captivates you enough to keep staring. a second blink and you're now facing rindou, soaked to the bone and missing his frames.
drowned out complaints barely reaching your ears say a thing or two about vexation. his shivering shoulders tell a tale of annoyance. rindou's downturned eyes are a dead giveaway of violet concern.
"seriously, do i need to call someone to come screw your head open?" he's about done with his words going through one ear and leaving right the other.
in a third blink his face meets your palms in a gentle cup. a home made of freezing fingertip walls, weak flooring of grip, a shaking born from unstable foundation.
"you're one of the prettiest things i own," one of your hands slide down his face to the pocket where rindou keeps his glasses dry against less than favorable weather. "i think i like you."
his breathing came to a momentary halt. with skipped heartbeats it's a surprise rindou's facade remains untouched. just get on the bike"
never does his stare stray from your face, never do you meet his eyes. careful not to stain the glass or poke his sides, you slide the frames into place.
"so you admit to being something i own?"
he allows the engine to wake again, making the vehicle slide forward in the slightest and nearly making you kiss the concrete hello. "keep fuckin' playing, just you see."
the motor roars for a great number of infractions. reckless driving, endless exits ignored as the highway extends before you.
it's one of the few times you're sat in front, caged by his arms.
("i can't trust you not to fly away if you ride back right now")
you don't care though, the wind parts at your fingers and that's all that matters. care not for the obvious obstruction you cause the driver, an arm extends to grip at nothing past the bike.
(it took an nth number of complaints before you acknowledged his concerns: "who cares if you can't see shit when i do this? don't you trust me?"
back then rindou accelerated after your accusations, breaching the speed limit by an obscene amount. "not in the slightest.")
the breeze is fierce. if you tried less, could you fly away too? you hum, rindou just does his job of driving in silence.
maybe this is what they meant by being infinite. nothing has ever felt so timeless.
mundane, unique.
a juxtaposition of solitude in the presence of each other.
"kill the engine."
rindou nearly swerves you both to your deaths.
"i'm not gonna ask."
ruler of roppongi, terrified at the prospect of delving into the turmoil that's become of your thoughts.
"then i won't answer, sounds fair."
another set of five minutes is thrown away in pure silence, the rest of the precinct sane enough not to drive at such hours of night.
eternity unshattered.
until it wasn't. "there's gotta be somethin' wrong for you to drag me out like this without talking my ear off."
silence.
rindou tries again, "you're not even wearing shoes."
the pavement is so unkind to your soles. you've decided to ignore the pricking of stray rocks.
"being in silence s'fine with me, just tell me you're actually okay."
chatter, irritation. "i wanna go for another drive."
not bothering to meet his eyes, you take pained steps to ride the bike again. ready to take off wherever else— earthly desires no longer influential in your decision making. merely an urge to be everywhere and nowhere.
rindou blocks your path, bracing you from falling at the sudden collision with his body. "you can't be fucking serious right now."
"i am, let's go."
"i'm not taking you anywhere else," there's an invisible flag which warns of a high tide. a possibility of confrontation and risk of shark infested riptides.
rindou haitani faces them all with just a slight ounce of uneasiness. "not until you tell me what this is all about."
silence, the knot of anguish is bound to slip if you were to open your mouth again.
rindou's fingers come to grip your chin. you didn't know they were capable of such gentleness. "c'mon pretty, let me in your head."
a sniffle warns of the high hazard waters bound to wash over.
opening your arms to embrace his figure would take too much energy you simply don't have. it's stiff just leaning against his chest, but it'll have to do.
"how… how do you manage?"
there's a pause from the man, an unspoken request for elaboration.
"every single day i swear you're seconds away from taking the world by storm with a lift of your finger, fuck, you make it look easy."
a knot claws past your trachea, pushing to be reborn as wails from your heart. "i can barely get out of bed each day, or even muster enough willpower to keep this—this shit cluster of a routine."
you're sure to be victim to early hair loss by the vicious grip your fingers trap your hair in; a single inconvenience away from ripping it all out. "i can't keep up—i'm so tired, rin."
hesitant, careful arms wrap around your back slowly. his gaze lost somewhere far from your figure—pleading for the night's own missionaries, ursa minor, cepheus; any and all, to just give you a breather for once.
"i know, i know."
anyone else getting tears all over his clothes would easily be found in a suitcase within the next few business days. not another single soul has such privilege to stain rindou's jacket and live to tell the tale.
rindou squeezes your shaking shoulders. he can forgive it this one time.
"why would i ever want to have the world if i already have you?" a rhetoric whisper breaks the silence. "that just sounds redundant. "
you can't help but cry harder.
"c'mon," rindou acts quick as your legs grow weak, wrapping them around his waist seconds before they gave out.
were you not concerned for not drowning in sorrow you'd complain about the gesture. a buried fear of inconveniencing rindou having to wait in queue for the fifty-six other problems also awaiting their turn.
("rindou quit it!" you'd squeal, fighting against his arms as they lift you from the ground. "'m too heavy, stop it!"
rindou would always scoff at your stupid claims, as he'd so kindly put it.
"i can bench press three of you—maybe you should come witness that.")
it's good you don't get to voice any complaints. rindou wouldn't know how to put into words the burden you carry weighs more than any physical manifestation of life.
his neck feels like the home you've sought this whole time. even with puffy eyes and a congested nose, it feels right.
blonde and blue strands of hair cling to your wet cheeks. everything might just be okay.
("can we go home now?"
"you threw your keys away, stupid."
"fuck," you whine with elongated vocals, fist pounding on his chest, "why'd you let me do that?")