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It’s warm. But not stiflingly so.
It’s quiet. But not overwhelmingly so.
It’s cozy. But he doesn’t hate it.
Arisu’s hair is soft, and he enjoys carding his fingers through it.
There are crackling and flickering flames in the fireplace, but they don't smell like death to him anymore. Not like burning flesh and dying people. Just like winter.
There’s a book in his lap, but he can’t focus on it. It’s fine, though. He doesn’t have to, no one will berate him for it.
Arisu is dozing in his lap. It feels like home.
There are feelings in his chest now, when there used to be nothing before. There’s contentment about how they managed to make it in time for the snowfall. How they will be here, alone, with no one to bother them, no one to take away from the time they have together.
There’s amusement at how there’s a strand of hair tickling Arisu’s nose, flying away but getting sucked close again with every breath, and causing Arisu to wrinkle his nose in his sleep.
There’s gratitude towards Kuina, how she let them have this, this small retreat, this haven just for the two of them. She could have used it herself, but she gave it to them as a gift, because she felt they deserved it.
There’s sadness about how many years he spent without those feelings overtaking his life, all those seconds and minutes and hours and days wasted.
There’s pride at how he made it here. At how much he had to overcome, how much they had to overcome, really, to be where they are today. To be who they are.
There’s awe at how he gets to have this. Gets to have Arisu, who is so beautiful in all that he is and all that he does, gets to be around him, be with him, gets to just have him there, never once leaving, even though he knows he doesn’t make it easy for him.
There’s doubt, sometimes. He doesn’t like that it’s there, doesn’t like how it tries to coat everything he feels, tries to take from it, tries to make those feelings seem smaller than they are. Tries to make him leave, tries to tell him how everything was better before. How everything was safer, without those feelings, without Arisu, without waking up next to him every day.
There’s fear of losing Arisu. Fear of losing his warmth and his positivity and his calmness and his unwavering trust. Fear of being the reason, fear of not being the reason, fear of losing him even though he could have prevented it, fear of losing him without being able to prevent it. It clings to him, always there at the back of his mind. Waiting. Patiently.
But there’s also that overwhelming feeling of happiness whenever he looks at Arisu in his lap. Whenever they get to be like they are now, around each other, with each other, close, together. Whenever they don’t get to be with each other, but he knows that they will be with each other soon. Whenever he closes his eyes and sees Arisu’s smile in front of his inner eyes, whenever he opens his eyes and sees it for real, directed at him.
There’s love, and for that, he will gladly take all those overwhelming feelings, and keep them in his chest. Keep them close, where there used to be nothing.
Where, now, there’s everything.