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Neito sat in front of the barely decorated tree in silence, burning his hands on the mug in his hands but refusing to put it down. He held onto it, whether it was to keep himself awake or the pain ground him he wasn't sure. He just knew he had made a habit out of holding onto things that would only cause him pain. He sunk in his teeth and never let go, sticking around like a stray dog. Which was funny, because Neito swore to never need anyone. But he supposed he was bound to burn, bound to hurt himself, bound to hurt others.
The gold and green wrapping paper glistered slightly in the warm light the decorations hanging around the room gave off. It would be a nice, comforting sight in any other circumstance, but right now Neito just wanted to turn the lights off and hide in the deep, dark night. Maybe if he was cloaked in the darkness, he could avoid this. He could avoid all of it.
But, instead, he stayed still on the couch and watched the light dance through the room like the gentle promises he made to him. He spoke them so softly into the night, and like fireflies they lit up Neito's world. Unfortunately, something so soft, so sweet truly was fragile, and now the buzzing of the fireflies had become nothing but a burden to Neito. Not due the one who made the promise, not one bit, but due to the fact that he now was alone. And he promised he wouldn't be alone again.
Promises, to Neito, meant a lot.
They were fragile, he knew that. Which is why he never promised anything he couldn't keep. Even small things, even silly things. If the words I promise left Neito's mouth, he would move heaven and earth to make it happen.
I promise.
He had said, not considering how the words would float around in Neito's head for weeks after.
I promise.
Neito had replied, and now he wished he had choked on the words instead.
I promise, I promise, I promise.
It echoed in Neito's head like a lullaby he couldn't seem to get rid of. It was everywhere, every little thing seemed to remind him of the words he said. In his dreams, he would bleed the promises again and again until it stained all he had. Every piece of clothing, every piece of furniture would remind him of it. Everything would remind him of it. It was so exhausting, and he knew he couldn't do anything about it. How pathetic, that all he wanted was to reach out to him again. He would be happy if they could only pretend to get back what they had. If, only for a minute, he could see what it could have become, not what it was.
But that was an unrealistic thing, and Neito knew that.
"I don't want to hurt him."
Neito overheard the conversation happening in the other room and knew it was done, knew it was over. He saw it coming, Hitoshi had been distant for a while. He knew the other had a lot going on, and that maybe he was too much, too clingy. Too much of a hassle to deal with. Even if it wasn't framed that way, Neito knew what was implied. He was simply too much to deal with on top of all Hitoshi had going on already.
"It's not you, it's me. One day you'll find someone better for you."
"But what if I only want you? What if I don't want anyone else?"
Neito could already feel the tears coming again and he shoved the sleeve of his worn-out sweater in his face. But nothing could stop them from flooding. He could try to distract himself, only for everything to still remind Neito of him.
He would open a book, only for the softness of characters to remind him of the one he missed.
He would try to focus on a movie only for the gentleness of some actions to remind him of the one he missed.
It was an endless cycle and Neito feared that this time he wouldn't bounce back.
But he was okay with drowning in a sea of his own thoughts if it meant he would forever remember the way he felt loved for once. It would be alright, as long as the stars still reminded Neito of him. Even if seemed to have warped into constellations of his own misery, on display for the world, but somewhere, hidden deeply inside of the elaborate patterns, Neito could still see him. And for now, he still did. He could still find him, even if he could no longer reach him. So it was okay.
Neito knew he would succumb to this, but that was fine with him.
Still, he felt like a songbird without its voice, a poet lacking words. But maybe that was what he needed to be. Maybe this was just another lesson (A voice deep inside of Neito begged to know why he had to turn into a lesson. What did he do to deserve to lose the one person who made him feel loved? Was this a sick game life was playing with him, or was it payback for all the people he hurt? He supposed he would never know, forever longing for knowledge he could never possibly receive.).
Despite everything, as soon as anyone asked, Neito would slip into the oh-so convincing act that had been keeping him grounded for all these years. It was scary, but it was all he knew. His wings had been snapped long ago, his paws declawed, and he had to make peace with the lack of flight in his life. He would never be free, for his idea of freedom had always been a birdcage. He had never truly felt freedom, so he would never truly know what to imagine for it.
Oh, the songbird he was, now silenced forever. Until time died out, and long after that, Neito would be locked away by his own words.