A/N: I don't think I did this to the best it could have been, but it's been in my drafts for ages already so I thought I'd just dump it here.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
(What would you do if I told you something shocking?)
A night lamp's soft green light, dying the originally red sheets a morbid shade that Murasaki could not name with any degree of accuracy.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
(Something stupid, yet terrifying?)
Clock hands going around in circles an infinity of times; irritating sounds escaping them as they moved, robbing Murasaki of all and any chances of getting a good night's sleep. Though if he was honest, that was not the only thing keeping him up.
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
(Something that I so foolishly did... something that I ended up doing without ever realizing it. Something I ought to regret, and something I don't.)
Sheets far too warm ignited fires in his skin in a million little places, the cool air of the room providing little respite as Murasaki threw the sheets off.
(Something I never expected to experience... that I never wanted to experience. Something you showed me, guided me through, made me feel.)
His feet felt cool against the floor, his ghastly shadow, monstrously distorted, copying his every move. Only barely did he remember to pull on his bright red coat as he turned the keys, locking his apartment as he walked directly next door, using his spare key to unlock it and enter.
(Nothing good ever comes of haste, Nice. That's what I told you. But here I can't help but make haste - to you.)
The coat was unceremoniously tossed on the back of a sofa as Murasaki traced the steps that he knew would lead to the safe haven he so craved for.
(Nothing good ever comes from trusting people either, Nice. I didn't tell you that, but trusting you has brought all sorts of good in my life.)
Beautiful blue eyes meeting his own; Nice had been unable to sleep either.
"Hey," the brown haired boy softly greets, scooting over to make space for his new (although expected) arrival.
"Hey," Murasaki whispers back, silently slipping under the sheets. This isn't the first time this has happened, beginning from when Murasaki had ordered Nice to sleep with him right after he'd insisted on not sleeping in the hospital bed Ratio had so kindly provided and eventually, contrary to expectation, it was Murasaki who had gotten addicted to the extra warmth and feel of another body beside his own. In vain he'd tried to terminate the habit, only to find himself caving and sneaking into Nice's apartment at midnight.
Somewhere along that line, what had begun as simply sleeping beside each other had turned, discreetly and almost indetectably, to allow for progressively more contact; simple back-to-back turned into hand-in-hand, which further progressed into completely sappy spooning.
As it is today, Murasaki settles down with his chest to Nice's back; it's a comfortable fit, and the warmth is just right. The silver-haired man doesn't know whether Nice has tipped off just yet or not; either way, his hands creep up to feel the regular thumping of his heart, the soothing harmony making him nod off in next to no time, a blissfully ignorant state of being he wouldn't attain in a million years at his house.
(What would you do if I told you something shocking, Nice?)
(What if I told you... I love you?)
A/N: Excuse me as I apologize for taking up bandwidth with this stupid thing,