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"Have a seat, Toya."
And Toya, dual toned hair shaggy enough for the hues of blue to intertwine, obliges. He obliges because he could never say no to the emerald eyes which cut through his skin, his ribs, and sliced into each chambers of his heart. The eyes of his closest ever friend opened the doorway to wild jungles, full with scaled beasts and overgrown vegetation strong enough to wrap round your throat and leave you in a chokehold. Toya would know, as he's been held in Akito's gaze for years now, yet he always discovers new details to explore.
Perhaps it was better to say that Akito, more or less, was an addictive drug, from the depths of his irises to the hoarseness of his voice as he ushered Toya to join him, deepened to a rasp by the chill of the night and another factor Toya couldn't quite deduce. However, he suspected it had something to do with the damp sleeves of Akito's cotton shirt, and the eyes which despite his hardened expression, continued to threaten to drip with salty water.
When Toya slips onto the sofa chair, he notices the way some of the soft maroon fabric had been harshly scratched away in a manner which could only be described as 'cat like'. They were indents of pure frustration and anxiousness, as if someone could not remain satisfied until the entire armchair was bear of its comfort.
Akito had never stood out as a boy who was 'at peace' with himself. Then again, neither had Toya. Thats what made them get along so well: their never-ending satisfaction.
Their thirst for the greatest, perhaps that's why Toya's hands were at unrest, why they reached toward the armchair to replicate its deep scratches. Why he felt as if he were suffocating under Akitos gaze now, after so long of not seeing those eyes in person.
He was scared that this was their final goodbye.
Akito tore his gaze away from his eyes to spare a glance to his nails digging into the chair. Before Toya could react, his hand was enveloped in a warmth of Akitos hand which bravely contrasted the icy room (even the small fire spitting among the fireplace didn't compare). Like a blanket he threaded his fingers across Toyas, intertwining them until Toya was once again getting lost in Akitos presence, as he always did whenever the ginger haired boy entered the room. Suddenly, nothing else would matter.
Akitos eyes darted back to Toya, his stiff features slowly softening, uncovering the reddening warmth which often glazed Akitos cheeks when it was just the two of them. A smile occasionally twitched on his mouth: a detail Toya and Toya alone could point out.
"Lord, how I have missed you, partner."
A gentle squeeze of their hands, and Toya was drowning. He opened his lips to reply, to say he had missed him in return, yet little sound escaped. Was this Akitos way of letting him down slowly. To gift him love before the loss. The mere thought would have caused Toya to spiral completely if it weren't for the hand which was grounding him in the moment. Instead, all Toya could do in response would sit, helpless, as trickles of water had reached his own eyes. The warmth of the sizzling fire and Akitos hand suddenly burned, imprinting his skin with scars which Toya could never unsee if Akito were to get up and leave. To never return.
Toya was unsure of when the salty tears brimming in his souless eyes had escaped, only when Akito's free hand had lifted to wipe his tears away did Toya even process what had happened. Akito's touch was light, only scarcely meeting with Toyas skin, as if to Akito- Toya was a glass or marble statue and he was its sacred protector. He supposed he wouldn't mind indulging in such a fantasy, where he would be seen as a valuable gem rather than a hollow shell of a human.
Akitos touch lingered on his cheek as he leant forward, his pupils now large with a rare fondness. "Don't go crying now, love, from being kept away for so long," he whispered- as if fearful to break the silence that had built between them. Akito eventually let his hand slip from Toyas face, and he quickly felt frozen again. Akito himself had sat back up, the aged chair creaking under the sudden movement. The screech rang in Toyas ears like a fork to a ceramic plate, only reminding him further of how much Akitos voice would softly melt into his senses and would let him drown. He supposed that's what happened when he took things for granted.
Had he took Akito for granted too, had he not savoured their time together?
Akito's grip finally loosened from his hand. Toya let it, despite the screaming in the back of his brain, urging him to cling on. Yet when he felt Akito slipping from his fingers, the younger boy had slowly staggered to his feet. With echoing steps to the hardwood floor, Akito soon stepped out of sight before Toya felt a weight lay behind him and onto his shoulder, burying itself into the crook of his neck. Toya's skin stuck tight to the bones in his body, making his collarbones stick out against his paled milky skin. It was an insecurity he always held, but the way Akitos head to fit perfectly in the space where his neck and collarbone met would cause his breath to hitch from its usual steady rhythm, the thumping of his heart quickening by the moment. Toya had once again been left speechless.
"Just put your feet up, friend," Akitos burning hands would rest on his shoulders, attempting to scar Toya through the layers of fabrics which thickly covered his body. Akitos strength rendered enough to feel the way the younger massaged the tense tethers in his shoulders in attempt to loosen the stiff muscles beneath. He was unsure as to how Akito knew, for he never mentioned the way his muscles ached from the discomforting journey over, yet he welcomed it with a soft sigh, his breath cloudy as it escaped through his mouth and got lost into the air.
"I've read all your postcards," Akito muttered into Toyas ear, his breath- like the rest of him- burning the skin of Toyas ear. It always amazed him how effortlessly Akito could make him feel so vividly- from an overbearing happiness to an even more intrusive feeling of emptiness when he watched him walk away. All those feelings- the way they exploded- if Akito were ever to leave the catharsis would be too much: he'd never be able to revert back to who he once was.
Toya could not reply to Akito, not in his current conflicts. Toya could briefly picture the letters and postcards he would send, the words inscribing love he could never convey using his own voice. Unlike the vocal chords which would clog and grow dry when Toya tried to shout his truth to Akito, the ink on the page remained wet from many hours, allowing Toya to write an abundance of letters and words until he would send them away without second thought. He had always been better with words, after all.
If he were to guess, Akito wasn't much of a word person himself. He valued himself in his actions to prove his worth- the way he often used to let his hand linger on Toyas shoulder- or the way he'd tightly grip the hem of Toyas collar when he had something important to convey: they were the minuscule actions he probably enjoyed looking for most in his partner.
But when Toya doesn't speak, Akito will.
And when Akito chooses his words carefully, he brings Toya into a dance lighter than the most delicate glass flowers.
"I'm happy to say it feels as if you've never been gone." His voice melted further as the heat of the room would increase, muffling Toyas touch, burning his nostrils until he felt himself a need to cough. Akito would cast a worried gaze over Toyas eyes and in return, Toya would nod in silent reassurance that 'it is not sickness nor discomfort- only the ashy smells of the fire'. It was a noiseless communication that Toya indulged in, for he knew it were Akito and only Akito who could hear the many voices which bit and nibbled at his brain. Whether it were natural skill or a talent Akito picked up across the years, he became and expert on knowing Toya, as if he were studying a subject on his partner alone. Perhaps that's why words were few and far between at times.
The 'crack' of Toyas shoulders had echoed through the compact room from where Akitos hands kneaded into his skin and muscles. Feeling accomplished, Akito eventually rose from his position behind Toya, allowing his footsteps to become the loudest noises lost to the night. With firm posture, he walked to the fireplace where, using a poker, he spread the wood apart to gently simmer the fire until completely out. Now, the only illumination of the room was from the moon itself, and Toya felt shivers down his back and flowing through his fingertips once again. It caused his hands to twitch, digging them into the armchair's tethers once again.
How could the mere change of temperature capture his senses so strongly, how had he so easily become sensitive to the minuscule changes? His body reacted before his mind in the best of times, and that- for most part- has only left him yearning for a reality in which he made all the right decisions: the ones in which made his dearest friend smile brightest.
In a final attempt to recover the feeling in his fingers, he stretched out toward the candle upon the table before him. Its surface was uneven from dried wax which had once attempted to drip down from a previous light, making the surface bumpy against the pads of his fingers. Yet before Toya could properly stretch enough to grip the candle, Akito had beat him to it, lifting the candle from its shiny metal platter. The distorted candle, crafted from beeswax, stood firm as Akito took a matchbox from his pockets.
"Let me light that for you," still using one hand, he used his thumb to push out the bundle of matches from the cardboard over before dragging out a single match, "It seems your hands a bit shaky." With a simple flick to his finger, he'd drag the head of the match across the igniter on the side of the box and scratch into its phosphorus coated covering. Dropping the box with little care, he took the match to light the wick, enlightening a small fire fighting against the breezes swirling within the room. It sizzled. It flickered. Then, against the odds of the chilling night, it persevered as Akito trudged towards Toyas chair and leant forward, until Akito's face would only hovering slightly over his own. The tufts of his hair fell forward, across his eyes, shadowing the glints of amusement and affection Toya himself was unable to see.
"We've got damage to do." He had whispered with a tinge of gentleness.
"And I know you need smoke in your chest," Within moments, Akito blew the burning match toward Toyas face, engulfing his senses in an ashy smoke laced with a whiff of pine tree from the candles oils. He resisted the urge to grimace for Akito was simply teasing him now. Teasing the way Toyas mind fell empty around him, or the way he was agonisingly aware that the reason Toya had returned in such hurry was to simply be in his presence again. It was humiliating: how easily Akito invaded his mind and stuck himself there for months on end.
Was his partner a poison, perhaps, killing him slowly? They say that before your death, you return to your most precious memories across life- those which gave you overwhelming serenity. Was that why, in perhaps their final moments together, Akito was the only one who had taken over his vision. Was it cruel to say no one else could amount to the impact he alone made to his life.
Hed suppose he'd never find out. For his partner would surely depart from him soon. Akito was- and had always been- a bundle of electrifying energy to bring inspiration to others. Akito was life, so Toya was death. Akito was the ball of vibrant flames in the sky, Toya was the plant-less rock which reflected his light.
Akito was unwavering Joy, Toya was Misery.
With wishes to spare his remaining dignity, Toya had moved to stand, almost crashing into Akito (and subsequently the candle) if it weren't for his partners quick reflexes. Toyas steps weighted heavier in comparisons to the former, causing the hardwood to cry in agony. He did not know what Akito was doing, nor his reaction, nor did he truly want to turn back to look. For he knew that at least this way, he could say that he was the reason why they had both parted. That after so long, Toya had left Akito with the chance to push on to new heights without the pathetic partner will such weak resolve to drag him down.
It didn't take ages to reach the door, for he was simply born to run away. If he weren't, then what good were his height and long limbs otherwise?
The doorknob was too icy for comfort when he gripped it: it felt wrong beneath his hands. It wasn't the same soft firmness of Akitos hand, nor the bumpy wax of the beeswax candle. All it felt was wrong.
Toya tried to ignore the hesitance in his muscles, and the sounds in the room indicating Akito was moving. If he could just-
Warmth cradled his hand again, "Have a seat, Toya," the voice besides him begged, the previous confidence shattered as a desperate head leant to meet with his own. What was worse was that Toya let him with little resistance, their foreheads gently colliding as Akito leant to push Toya back from the exit. His free hand hovered forward until reaching the fabric and buttons of Toyas dress shirt, gripping the front tightly enough to leave creases. The candles heat couldn't be felt from the door, yet warmth still blemished Toyas face as he now felt that Akitos hands, too, were now shaking.
"Dont ever mistake me," the harsh whisper from the breathy voice which enraptured him repeated again and again in his ears, "of all of my friends, you know..."
Akitos voice trailed away as he leant his face further towards his own, watery eyes tearing apart any last defences Toya had built in a last ditch effort to keep Akito away from good.
Though perhaps that made Akito an addict too.
It didn't take long for Akito to hover his lips above Toyas own: an action he had done countless times before yet never followed through with. In those moments a distraction would pull them away, keeping Akito safe from the venom which was laced in Toyas blood for one more day. Except this time it was nothing but the two of them and no more distractions to stop Akito from closing the final inch between them.
Toya should have known, really, that Akito would never so much as leave Toya's side for longer than he had to. For you couldn't have life without death, nor light without darkness. The sun would not be as fascinating without the moon to convey its brightness at night. As for Toya, Misery did not just love company- it craved it.
Akito did not pull back far, in fact, it seemed as if Akito would not pull away too far from Toya from then on. Instead, he returned his head to the rightful spot buried within Toyas neck, his breathing no longer shaky as he rubbed his thumb across the fabric of Toyas shirt, taking in the natural smell of roasted coffee beans which often trailed behind Toya. He continued until all his body could think about was Toya, Toya and Toya. And for the first time in a while, a smile grazed both of the boys faces, hidden behind the salty tears and their tight embrace.
"You are the one I like best."