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Luchika is the type of person that one may call restless and difficult to deal with.
He wasn't always the anxious type, at least as far as he can recall in his already muddled memories. He had a peaceful life, a happy one surrounded by friends and family. He grew up in a town and sought education. He even met someone special. But of course, life happens, and when life happens, it decides to make its presence known in the most offensive way possible, snatching away everything that you've ever known in the blink of an eye. There's nothing humans can do to stop the relentlessness of time and destiny, and Luchika was never going to be an exception.
Doesn't mean that all that psychological damage wasn't a pain in the ass to deal with, though.
Luchika never quite figured out how to deal with all of his burdens. He didn't feel comfortable talking to strangers about it, that's for sure. There was the risk of judgement, and that made him feel like some kind of fucked up creature on display for someone to feel sorry for. On top of that, such services cost money, and he doesn't exactly have a lot loose change on his person.
Sometimes he drew or wrote down his feelings. It helped of course, but sometimes it gets emotionally overwhelming for him, having a visual of all his anxious thoughts just sitting around in his room with nowhere else to go. He had to tear all his work down the walls at one point because he couldn't bear looking at all those menacing scribbles.
Or sometimes, like tonight, he just sits in the living room and ponders. There's a comfy armchair situated next to a large window, and he often finds himself curled up on this spot. It was the middle of the night and the lights were off, with the only small source being the moon peeping out from behind the clouds outside. Luchika stared at the starless night sky, fingers tapping against his face absentmindedly. He couldnt recall how long he sat here...an hour? Two? And yet he couldnt gather the motivation to get up. He was simply looping old conversations in his head of voices he'll never hear again.
"Luchi?"
The man jumped at the sudden sound of the voice. He turned and looked up to meet the eyes of his partner standing next to the chair, which seemed like a deep black void. His entire attire, in fact, made him look like he was made out of shadows, blending in far too well with the darkness of the living room. Tadashi was always known for his bizarre presence anyway, at least according to his own words. Luchika wouldn't know too much about that—they haven't been living together for that long anyway.
"You startled me. I didn't think you were up."
"Do you think I wouldn't notice my beloved out of bed? I'm more observant than you think." Tadashi retaliated, seemingly unoffended.
"...Sorry. I wasn't supposed to be here for so long. I just got carried away." Despite his words Luchika couldnt help but go back to staring out the window again. Tadashi seemed to silently understand the circumstances, noticing his lover's familiar melancholic state. In his typical fashion, he pointed out something else to prove just that.
"You're wearing the veil again."
Luchika subconsciously fiddled with the ends of the large wedding veil he adorned. It was still crisp black, all burnt and fragile. He can practically still smell her scent mingled within the flames. It hugged his figure the way she once did.
"So I am," was the only response he gave. He made no further movement and continued to stare at the moon. The two men remained in silence until Tadashi hummed thoughtfully.
"Scoot over."
Luchika barely registered his sentence, and when he did he just looked up at the priest, confused. "Excuse me?"
"Scoot over. I want to sit next to you."
Luchika remained perplexed. "Tadashi, this is just an armchair, there's no room for the two of us."
"Sure there is. I can just squeeze right in."
"...If you wanted to cuddle or something, then we can just move to the couch."
"But you already look so comfortable. There's no harm in me joining you, right?"
Luchika eventually gave in to his partner's request and simply sighed in defeat as he squeezed himself into the chair as best as he could. Even though Tadashi was a little bit shorter than him, it ended up being a tight fit, with the former half sitting on his lap.
"There. Are you happy now?" Luchika asked.
"Quite." Tadashi's impish grin seemed to widen as he leaned fully onto Luchika's body. It seemed he was enjoying this far too much.
"You're clingy today," Luchika observed.
"Why wouldn't I be? You've been ignoring my advancements all day today. I have every right to be here with you right now."
Luchika furrowed his brows. Had he really been doing that? He tried to recall the events of the day as best as he could. There was that time they had breakfast in the morning, and Luchika didn't react to Tadashi's asinine attempts to shove food in his mouth. There was also the movie Tadashi tried to invite him to watch, only for Luchika to decline and shut himself up in his room for two hours. He also didn't ask Tadashi to dry his hair for him after showering, opting instead to leave it soaking wet, and now he woke up in the middle of the night specifically to get away from his boyfriend and be by himself.
...Perhaps he has been a bit closed off as of late.
"I'm really sorry, Tadashi. Something just came over me today. I promise you it's not your fault."
"Oh, I can tell when I'm at fault for your bad moods or not, Luchi." Tadashi's smile faltered as he stared into his lover's tired eyes. "But it doesn't make me worry any less when you do get into these states."
Luchika fidgeted in discomfort (or at least tried to—Tadashi was still firmly on top of him) and he forced himself to remove his hands from the veil and settle them on his lap. He immediately had the itching desire to touch it again.
"Why don't you talk to me? I don't expect to understand everything, but I'm not going to be useless to you either." Tadashi's hand fell on top of Luchika's as if to prove his sentiment was genuine. The priest's head was on the veiled man's shoulder, so Luchika settled his on top of the other as well.
"I'm...I'm not sure how to put it all into words. It's a lot to talk about."
In the few months the two had spent living together, they haven't exchanged much information about themselves. All Tadashi knew was that Luchika was involved in a fire that left the scar on his face and took the life of a loved one. All Luchika knew was that Tadashi's life unexpectedly fell apart after some sort of incident and he had to constantly move towns until he finally settled down with him. As lovers, perhaps they should have elaborated more on their stories, but behind those vague details lay their darker sides. Sides that they pretend do not exist, or that they are ashamed to acknowledge, fearing that they would define them as horrible, disgusting people. Humans make mistakes, but at what point is the line between mistake and tragedy crossed? Would humans ever admit when they themselves have crossed that line?
The two men remained silent on the armchair. Crickets could faintly be heard chirping outside, and a dusty cloud appeared in the sky slowly inching towards the moon, ready to block its silver presence. Luchika's hands trembled and he had to clasp his fingers together to prevent himself from touching that damn veil.
"...I wasn't very liked in my old town, you know."
Startled, Luchika lifted his head to look down at Tadashi, who's position remained still. He was looking straight ahead at the blank white wall opposite them, as neither of them were avid interior designers.
"For a while, I was. I had a role to fulfill, and I carried out my duties to the best of my ability. I wasn't perfect, but nobody seemed to mind. Or maybe they just didn't notice the flaws."
He took in a small breath, and his voice seemed to sound slightly harsher. "Then there was a voice. A small one that didn't say much. But her words were powerful and were enough to sway a stubborn audience. One small, singular voice, and that was enough to ruin my life."
Luchika let these words sink in. This was a rare moment of vulnerability from Tadashi, and he tried his utmost to choose the best possible response. In the end, he settled on a question: "Is this why you chose to leave?"
Tadashi seemed to chuckle at his answer, even though he didn't find the situation very funny. "I left because my life was in danger after that. Everyone else seemed to follow behind her, like a pack of lost dogs. That's how it works, doesn't it? You use your power correctly, and you'll have the whole world at your fingertips. But there's another variable that you never knew was there, and it just seems to knock all your progress out of your hands."
As Tadashi's story concluded, Luchika huffed indignantly. "I see what you're doing. You're trying to get me to talk by giving up info about yourself, right?"
"Obviously. Just think of it as my way of giving you a little nudge." The priest smirked again, playfully twirling Luchika's long, still damp hair.
"...My experience isn't nearly as upsetting as yours. I don't think it's worth mentioning."
"Don't be ridiculous, Luchi. It clearly is if it's been making you depressed for so long." Luchika didn't respond, and Tadashi decided not to push the issue any further. He'll just have to talk about it in his own time. The priest wasn't the most patient man, but that doesn't mean he wasn't willing to play the long game.
The cloud in the sky finally reached the moon, covering its luminescence and darkening the living room even more. Tadashi felt the conversation wasn't going to progress any more than this and he almost opted to get up and go back to bed (even if he had to drag his partner with him) when he felt something tighten around his hand. It was Luchika's own, and it felt so cold, almost like a corpse's.
"...Dahlia liked flowers."
Tadashi became much more alert, and in a moment of hesitance slightly tightened his own grip. Luchika's face was obscured by both his hair and the veil, but he knew he was anxious. He never brought up the victim by name before.
"Her parents clearly named her that so she could grow up with good fortune. I don't think she cared much for symbolism. She just liked how pretty they looked." He tried to smile at the memory, but he felt his lips tremble and he ended up harshly swallowing instead. "But her favorites were lilies. She insisted on lily arrangements on her wedding day. I think they were white...or maybe purple...I can't remember. I just remember how happy she was seeing them all set up. She was like a little girl again."
Luchika dared to look up at the ceiling. It made it easier to control his emotions, but it didn't make it less painful. "...Her fiancé thought they were too much. 'Too gaudy', I think he said. They got into a little fight about it, and for the hundredth time I thought the wedding would be called off. Then she said...something. I can't remember what she said anymore. But it was like everything went back to normal and they were laughing like a real married couple. And the lilies stayed." The first tear drop fell, and Luchika didn't even notice. "But all I could think about was how I wouldn't even have offended her in the first place. I would have never spoken ill of her lilies. I'd have ordered more lilies and draped them everywhere so she would know just how much I liked them, because she made me like them. But I wasn't her fiancé...I was just a good friend. The one thing I could do was protect her, but even that—" Luchika could no longer continue. He simply sought out the veil and tried to wrap the flimsy thing around himself. His shoulders trembled with every silent sob he uttered, sometimes allowing himself a hiccup or a whine. He reached his limit for tonight.
Tadashi felt his partner shaking underneath him, and he opted to snake his arm around and behind his neck so he could massage his scalp. He said nothing, only letting the man be emotional for the first time in who knows how long. He wasn't used to feelings of pity or shame or even basic empathy, but if there was one thing about being in a romantic relationship then it's learning to deal with these feelings. As this was Luchika's first time expressing himself, this was Tadashi's first time reciprocating such intimacy. He was slightly surprised to find himself genuinely upset for Luchika, and slightly relieved to find he was deserving of feeling such emotions.
The moon freed itself from its cloudy grasp and shone light into the living room once again. Tadashi wiped the last of Luchika's tears away himself, his scar feeling rough under his fingers.
"...I'm sorry for breaking down like that."
"I see no reason for you to be sorry. If anything, your story touched me."
"Thanks, I guess. It's nice to have someone else finally know her name." Luchika sniffled before slumping onto Tadashi's figure, exhausted. "I mean...thank you, Tadashi. I needed this. I needed this so much."
The priest hummed with content. "I'm glad. I'm always here if you ever feel like telling me more."
"Mhm." Luchika wasn't sure if there will be another night like this one. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that yet. And he was positive that the truth about that night would not be uttered for a long time. But he wanted Tadashi to be with him. Even if it was selfish, and even if he didn't deserve it, he wanted Tadashi to be there when he woke up tomorrow and the day after so he could talk to him. Just in case if he ever needed to.
Tadashi took note of Luchika's heavier breaths and droopy eyes. "You're quite tuckered out, aren't you?"
"Perhaps."
"I told you you should have stayed in bed."
"I know..." Not willing to argue any further, Luchika felt himself already falling asleep. Tadashi decided to torment him a bit, starting to get up from the armchair. He didn't realize how cramped it was until he finally stretched his arms.
"Let's at least make our way back to our room. I don't want to find myself waking up on an armchair."
"Guess I'm not the only one with bad ideas," Luchika mumbled.
"Touché, my love. But don't get too smart with me," he joked. They both tiredly yet somewhat happily shuffled their way into the hallway to try and make up for their lost hours of sleep before they seized another day tomorrow.
When Luchika woke up the following day, he found a single white lily in a vase set in the middle of the dining room table. As for when Tadashi acquired it, he had no idea, but it can be assured that that lily gets sufficiently watered every morning without fail.