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It wasn’t that unusual for Kirara to fall asleep alone in a bed meant for two.
It was also obvious that she preferred it when strong, familiar arms were wrapped around her, instead of the thick blanket, or when his scent wasn’t so faint, only coming from the traces of him that were still lingering on the sheets.
She obviously preferred it when she could allow herself to drown in everything that was him.
But tonight she had to burrow her head further into the pillow, and do her best to avoid thinking about all of that. She had to force herself to fall asleep, despite all the worries that threatened to plague her mind. It was far from easy, but Kirara had to trust him.
They couldn’t operate any other way.
She was turning on her other side, a soft sigh leaving her lips when her ears picked up on the sound of keys rattling against the old front door, in total contrast with the slow, almost imperceptible unlock of the door. Her heart picked up the pace in an instant, and she had to force herself to stay under the covers. She could wait for him.
With her eyes still closed, she listened to familiar, quiet motions; Hakari leaving out his shoes at the door, him deliberately trying to soften his stomps around the apartment, and the sound of a jacket thrown onto a piece of furniture. Kirara had to bite her lip to prevent the smile forming on her lips.
She expected him to show up in the bedroom and join her in bed instead of showering, presumably too tired from tonight’s fight to properly take care of himself. She kept on waiting, even when she couldn’t hear any distinct sounds anymore, her heart settling back into an easy rhythm that did not forget about the anticipation of having him near again.
But instead of hearing the door of the bedroom creak, Kirara heard the soft click of the bathroom door closing, her smile dimming as fast as it appeared on her lips.
Thinking that maybe he wasn’t as tired as usual, she waited to hear the shower being turned on, knowing it would sound through the entire shitty apartment. But that didn’t come either.
Kirara couldn’t wait a moment longer pretending to sleep, her eyes opening in an instant, and before her mind could fully process what she was doing, she was pushing the blanket aside and got out of bed, barefoot and clumsily going to the bathroom in the dark. A sharp curse left her mouth when she bumped her hip against the corner of the table.
It would most likely bruise.
But that couldn’t stop her, she continued her journey to the bathroom, softly opening the door and peaking her head inside, making Hakari slightly flinch when he noticed her, his eyes widening in the slightest; she would've missed the motion if her eyes weren't fixed on his figure.
She could’ve asked what happened, or how did he end up in that state, but worry would seep through her words and he would end up focusing more on her, instead of the bloody state he was in.
“I won,” his gruff voice echoed in the bathroom.
Hakari tried to smile at her, water droplets already covering his entire face, and he ended up spitting blood in the sink before it could fully form on his face. Kirara wanted to chuckle at him, but it came out as more of a sigh instead.
The light was flickering again in the bathroom, even if it hadn’t been that long since they changed the lightbulb. Her feet were starting to get cold.
“Sorry for waking you up, baby,” Hakari’s hands were gripping the edge of the sink for support, his knuckles white.
She leaned against the doorframe for a second, ran her eyes over his figure and took in just how hurt he actually was. Dark crimson was seeping through the white of his shirt, silently telling Kirara that there weren’t any chances of saving it, no matter how much bleach she poured on it.
“I wasn’t asleep,” she mumbled, just loud enough to reach his ears.
Kirara stepped into the bathroom, the tiles even colder against her feet. She squeezed around him in the tiny space, reaching for the first aid kit in the cabinet and setting it on the edge of the sink.
“Yeah?”
She chose to ignore his insistent stare for a moment, her fingers quietly fiddling with the disinfectant and cotton pads.
“Did you fight a bear, or what?” Kirara tried to offer him a smile when her eyes finally met Hakari’s, but it probably was too strained, because in the next second his arm was wrapped around her waist, pressing her closer despite his wounds.
“Close,” but being so close, her nose could trace the lingering whiskey on his breath, as well as the less faint scent of sweat and blood.
Kirara focused on a small cut on his cheek, wondering for a second if it was going to scar. Narrowing her eyes at it, she pressed the cotton pad against it, making Hakari hiss for a second.
“Sorry, baby,” she offered, running her thumb under the shallow cut in comfort, “do you want a bandaid on it?”
“Skip it,” his fingers squeezed her hip, gently pulling at the skin under the large T-shirt she was wearing. Warmth bloomed on her skin where he touched, and familiar tingles travelled all over her body.
The shirt belonged to him, and she was wearing it because it still smelled like him and she thought it would help her fall asleep. Too bad she was craving the real thing.
Turning her head to one side and resting her cheek against his shoulder, Kirara’s fingers slipped under the hem of his white shirt and gently began to peel up the material, until Hakari had no choice but to lift his hands up and get it off him. He let it fall at his feet, and it would probably leave a nasty stain on the white tiles, but neither of them could be bothered with it.
“Turn around, that one seems to be the ugliest one,” she hummed against his skin, “gotta take care of it before it gets worse.”
Hakari easily complied, leading Kirara to sit on the closed toiled lid before sitting down between her thighs, his back facing her. She scowled at the cut on his back, because now that there was no material to cover it, she could properly see just how concerning it looked.
“Kin baby,” her words slipped along with a quiet sigh, “this one is gonna hurt like a bitch.”
He let out a low chuckle and held onto her calf, squeezing and slowly massaging it through gritted teeth while Kirara worked to clean and disinfect the wound, a comfortable silence enveloping them.
It wasn’t the first night she ended up taking care of him, hence why she was so familiar with using the first aid kit. That didn’t mean she had less worries swirling around her mind, no matter how much she trusted him.
And still, she couldn’t really hold it against him. Getting angry with him wasn’t really an option she wanted to offer Hakari when he was already struggling. He was just as aware of the risks he was taking whenever he got into a fight, and Kirara knew it was a matter where she only wanted to support him in the choices he made, as foolish as it could seem.
Even if she knew he would listen to any word that came out of her mouth.
Kirara took another second to look at his back after she finished wrapping the bandages around his torso. She couldn’t help but lean forward and quietly, ever so gently, pressed her forehead where the wound was covered in white gauze.
“It’s alright,” she whispered to herself while resting her head against him, her words coming out clear in the tiny, quiet bathroom where only their breaths broke their bubble of silence, “you came back home.”
She felt his muscles tense against her light touch after the words left her mouth, harder than when she was cleaning his wound. Kirara didn’t pay it too much mind, moving instead to grab a nearby towel and dampen it with warm water from the sink.
“You know I can just take a shower in the morning,” he grumbled when she started to clean the blood stains left on his skin, “or whenever I wake up.”
“You’re gonna stink up the sheets again,” she pretended to complain, her movements never ceasing as she shifted to wipe down to his arms.
“You love my stink,” Hakari leaned a bit back, his smile obvious where he almost had his cheek pressed against her’s, making her draw back and lightly pull at his earlobe with her teeth.
It was short, almost as short as the flicker of the bathroom light, but it made more chuckles spill between them in the small space.
“You probably won’t be able to really shower with this on your back,” she quietly reminded him after deeming her work well-done and finished.
It was way too late to get into the specifics of hygiene, and Kirara was tired enough to finally call it a night and get some actual sleep.
She pulled back a bit, not that she had too much space on the toilet lid to do gymnastics, but it was just enough to give Hakari's back a quick glance, her vision starting to blur at the edges. It only lasted a second, because in the next breath, Hakari fully leaned his back against her, and pulled her thighs over his shoulders, her legs ending up into his lap.
His hands pressed against the cold soles of her feet.
“Thank you,” she heard him murmur, and with an effortless smile blooming on her face, Kirara cupped his cheeks from behind and pulled at his head until it was tipped back and they could look at each other, “my best girl.”
She couldn't help the kiss she pressed on his forehead.
“My star girl,” he insisted.
Kirara could easily read the affection in his eyes, as well as the tenderness in his touch. It felt like those few, drawn out seconds belonged only to them and no one else.
She kissed him, their smiles melting into the warmth that spread through their chests.
“My only girl,” Hakari whispered when their lips parted, his affection turning into a secret he was not willing to share with the world.
“Hmm,” Kirara hummed back at him, pressing another quick kiss against his lips, “c'mon, let's go get some sleep.”
“Yeah,” he easily complied, but only pulled her closer, “my ass might freeze if I sit here any longer.”
Her laugh echoed and probably annoyed their neighbors.
“You'll have to help me get up,” he grumbled, “hey, don't laugh at me, baby,” but Kirara easily kissed away his pout.