"Where'd you go? Where's your home? How'd you end up all alone?"
.
.
.
Grey smoke curled through the air slowly, making dull red eyes follow their patterns with calm ease. The cigarette in the man's hands drifted toward his lips once more and he inhaled deeply, grimacing at its taste. The smoke burned down his throat as it filled his lungs, and he held it there for a minute before finally exhaling the deadly element.
His foot tapped against the stone floor idly, his unoccupied hand in his suit pocket. Strands of blonde hair fell in front of his face and he angrily reached up to smooth it back, a scowl on his pale features.
"Monsieur," came a voice from the open door, making the blonde look up and crush his cigarette in the crystal ashtray beside him. "I figured you would be here."
Naki sneered, his eyes flickering from the fanciful gourmet to the smoldering cherry of his cigarette in the glass tray. "Of course," he muttered, his brow drawn tightly downward.
Tsukiyama walked toward him gracefully, tilting his head and grabbing Naki's chin delicately. "May I inquire as to what is bothering you?" he questioned, his fingers lightly brushing against the other's soft skin.
Naki jerked his face away, tears pooling in his crimson eyes. "It's none of your business," he retorted, scowling angrily. He wiped his eyes in frustration, dark sighs escaping his lips as he saw the smeared eyeliner on his fingers.
Tsukiyama tsk'd at him, shaking a finger. "You are my business, mon cher ami," he reminded the blonde, moving to stand beside him. His hands settled on the blonde's shoulder's gently, guiding him toward the suede couch residing in the lounge. As soon as they sat down, the purple-haired man once more put his fingers beneath the blonde's chin, tilting his head upward. "Now, what is bothering you?"
Naki stared at the man for a moment, eyes distrusting and guarded. Then it was as if a well burst in his eyes because the tears started flowing, pouring down his cheeks and the blonde was sobbing into Tsukiyama's shoulder. "B-big bro!" he wailed, clutching to the gourmet with all his might. "He promised h-he'd never leave me! He said h-he would a-always be there for me!"
Tsukiyama exhaled softly, combing his fingers through blonde hair as the man let out his worries and frustrations. "He couldn't help it," the man tried to reassure. "You know he cared about you and would love to still be here for you."
"F-fuck, man!" Naki sobbed, his eyes staring painfully into Tsukiyama's. "He took me in o-off the streets! He gave me a h-home! He was the first person to give a shit about this dumbass!" He gestured to himself, laughing hysterically.
Tsukiyama gripped his shoulders tightly, his eyes serious. "But he was not the last person to care," the gourmet reminded him, shaking him slightly to emphasize his point. Naki stared helplessly at the man and Tsukiyama sighed, taking him into his arms again. "I care about you, mon crétin."
Naki sniffled, resting his head against the gourmet's shoulder. "Don't call me a crate," he murmured indignantly, making the purple-haired man bark out a laugh.
Part one out of a possible two, if I get around to it!