Work Text:
Rain smattered down onto the pavement around them. A torrential downpour. It was quite possibly the worst storm of the season, but neither of you seemed to care. Seconds were long and short, increasing and decreasing with the beat of your heart. Somewhere, a car alarm blared distantly. You couldn’t look away. Your insides were filled with cotton, full of kerosene. The unpleasant weight in your chest burned with an unnamed emotion.
The color of the stoplights looped over and over. It reflected onto his skin, illuminating him like it was giving a glimpse into all the sides of him. You don’t know, and you never knew. Which side was the closest to who he truly was. Flowers bloomed in your mouth, a foreign pressure wanting to spill your guts on the pavement. You couldn’t tell what the right thing to say was. You’re panting, and you don’t even realize.
He stares at you with emotions pooling out of his lavender irises. His mouth was set into a firm line. Eyes ricochet back and forth, seeking a truth he’s not sure is there. His backpack was filled to the brim and his grip tightened, stance outward facing, like he was ready to run at any given moment.
“Saihara, I’m sorry.” He spoke mutedly. Your eyes suddenly watered, vision blurred slightly. You couldn’t tell if it was the rain or the tears making your face sting. You felt everything at once, and nothing at all. His white coat was soaked through, adhering the clothes to his lithe frame. It made him look small. So, so small.
“I know,” You muttered, “I’m sorry too.” You wished so badly that you had your hat right then. Something, anything, to have kept you from being emotionally exposed. The car alarm felt like it was ticking down the seconds until… You don’t know. The grief? The end of the best thing that’s ever happened to you? It was all too much.
“...We have to, though.” And you knew he was right. You so badly wanted not to know that. A devastating lie would be better than that soft truth. You see it, though, and you can’t unsee it. He went to grab for your hand, but your arms shot forward and you enveloped him with every piece of strength you have. One of your hands tangle into the back of his obsidian hair, the other careened his torso into being flush with yours.
You learn your chin into his shoulder and sob sweetly.
“I know,” you said. You can feel the way his atoms are fighting against each other, like cosmic magnets. You wonder what you have to do to have mere seconds more. It won’t matter; it would never be enough.
There’s nothing left to say. There’s nothing that could be said. Not anything that would matter. Your jaw sets as you run out of tears, a quiet comprehension of the end. The book was completed. The chapter was closed. You wonder out of the thousands of decisions made, which one led to this outcome. Why couldn’t you just take it all back?
The car alarm sounded like a dissonant harmony. A warning-- there’s no going back.
You pulled back from the embrace and moved out of arm’s reach, stopping yourself from taking any more than you already have. You wrap them around yourself, shielding yourself from the wounds. He looked up at you, but this time, there’s no analyzing. It seems he found his answer.
With finality, he sighed lamentably. He took a small step back. Then another. Then another. Before turning around until he lost eye contact and didn’t look back. Your hand itched to reach out for him, yet stayed weighted at your side. Your arms drop and all you can do is stare. To memorize and engrain every detail you possibly could. His hair, his clothes, how he smelled of grapes, his eyes, his hands, his height, his scarf.
Every time you blinked, he was miles more away. All of the things that had been muted suddenly came back into focus. The torrential downpour. The stoplight changing color. The car alarm still blaring.
Your body released control back to you, sinking down into your bones. The flowers in your throat bloomed. You take a deep breath. You turned around and left.
Distantly, you heard the car alarm stop.