Work Text:
He found himself thinking about her, sometimes. In the dead of night when the world bathed in silence, when nothing but the sound of his thumping heartbeat blares in his ears. Her portrait has always been burned into his mind and dances before lavender eyes. Long ashen hair, the color of opalescent moonlight reflecting across still waters. A beautiful, alluring smile that graced pale pink lips and held timeless words between her teeth. And crimson red eyes. God, those eyes. Deep. Vibrant. Passionate.
The color of a fire that burned him.
It was clear, straight from the start. The forbidden fruit of everything damned laid within her angelic smile, and Guren had always heard it clearly in his head, stay away from her. She was never fit for love. That girl was a hurricane; reckless and impulsive, as nimble as the brisk autumn winds that would chill his skin and leave him breathless.
But while she was engulfed by the flames of Hell itself, greeting him with a devilish heart that served to taunt him into her vices, she exuded the aura of an angel with the sin of temptation laying in her hands. He knew, oh he knew that he would be signing his own death certificate by losing himself in the impossible labyrinth that was her. But she beamed with an ethereal light, a celestial pull, that he couldn't help but chase.
And chase he did. Pining over the girl he could never reach, even when the nauseating stench of his own blood marred his clothes and the breath drained from his lungs. Even when her darkness began to gnaw effortlessly at his insides, ripping him apart; he ignored the agony that swallowed him whole, blinding himself with the idea that she could make him happy and pushing past all the pain in his pursuit of her. But he was never strong enough. She never stopped, always so far ahead of him, always goading him in with that damned smile that begged for him to catch up. He was too stupid. Too oblivious. Too in love. So he kept going, following every footstep in front of him and wasting away his years because he was convinced that she was worth every single sacrifice he might have to make.
Her love was toxic, venomous, something that would only end in a catastrophic disaster. But it was something that he craved for desperately, as that stupid fairytale ending prevailed in his naïve fantasies.
But then reality comes crashing down on him, and he realizes that she's gone, he left her and she left him. He realizes that he no longer has nothing to lose by being so reckless and self-destructive, for beside him, lays a gentle-hearted man stirring beneath the covers, white locks splayed across the pillows. His thoughts of her vanish like broken dreams. And there she goes, fading from his memories once again.
Because while Mahiru was the enticing vast ocean that no one could ever map, getting him high on adrenaline as his drunken thoughts yearn for her like alcohol, Shinya was home. The scent of morning dew in the midst of spring, damp with the musk of oak and crisp leaves, or the steady sound of water washing over the dark stones of a creek. The feeling of curling beneath a thick blanket on a cold winter morning; an inexplicable comfort that soothed his muscles and bathed him in a tranquil comfort that shielded him from the world. Or even a revitalizing breath of fresh air that washed over him like cool showers on red hot skin, clearing his muddled senses until everything was clear. For as Mahiru pushed him over the edge, Shinya led him away from the cliff, step by step, coaxing his footsteps in his direction until all he could see were those crisp blue eyes and a gentle smile that could defy the sun.
"Guren, I can practically hear your thoughts from here."
He winced and squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck. "Go back to sleep, Shinya."
"I should say the same to you." Shinya shifted to look at him, cobalt eyes fatigued but brimming with life. His tongue was heavy with sleep and his stern words pranced atop the delicate air surrounding them. "Guren, it's late and you have a meeting early in the morning. You should really get some rest."
"Shut up. You don't need to worry about me."
He offered a small, serene smile that radiated against the creeping shadows. "Ahh, but just because I don't need to, doesn't mean I won't. You need to be more careful, okay?"
Guren's cheeks flushed and he promptly turned his head as snarky words wilted on his tongue. He could basically hear Shinya's smile widen, and he gritted his teeth, feeling his ears burn.
"Aww, is someone embarrassed? I-"
"Shinya, I will punch you if you don't stop talking."
He huffed. "You don't mean that."
I don't. But he doesn't have to know.
When he didn't respond, Shinya hummed in amusement and let out an exaggerated, dramatic sigh. "Alright, fine. Good night, Guren~!"
"Fuck off."
Shinya laughed softly from behind him, and the sound ignited a mesmerizing warmth that blossomed in his chest. Nothing but bare affection at it's very core, buzzing quietly with such love and care. Guren's fingers curl around the pillowcase, and he smiles.
Mahiru Hiiragi was an addiction, he knew. Everything wanted and untouchable, from the clouds of heaven to the gates of hell. Someone he had to go above and beyond in order to catch. But, as his fingers curled around the sleeping man's torso, he realizes that Shinya Hiiragi is everything beautiful between the blades of green to the shades of blue that swirled thousands of miles above their heads. Surrounding him, ready to catch him when he fell.
He had always thought that he was alone in this cruel world with no one worth his efforts. But, Guren thinks with a lightened heart, maybe he had finally found someone worth living for after all.