White Lie
by Lily M.
When Sora set his mind to fighting, there was nothing in the world that could make him stop.
Even if it was just a video-game.
He would sit there, for hours and hours, maybe even wasting the whole day away, and he would simply not move a finger until he had beaten that particularly tricky boss, or finish that mini-game that wouldn't let him progress. And whenever he had completed one of those incredibly hard tasks, he would engage in some sort of victory dance or shout, and Riku had to admit, that even if watching his friend sitting there with the controller in hand was definitely boring for the most part, the victory ritual was an amusing thing to look forward to.
Not that he was actually watching Sora out of the corner of his eye while laying on the couch his best friend was leaning against. He had a book in his hands, and it was quite interesting. But sometimes Sora would manage to catch his attention with some sort of charm that he could not explain.
Sometimes he would frown at the screen, bringing the controller closer to his face, deep in concentration. His brows would be drawn together, and his lips formed a focused pout. Minutes later he would break the mask with a huge grin, and throw his fist in the air, triumphant. Sometimes he would stretch, cracking his neck, and that would mean a tough boss was ahead. And if he suddenly slumped, sliding down the couch, it meant he was getting beaten mercilessly.
But knowing all of that didn't mean he was watching him the whole time. It was a really interesting book, you see.
Riku had to keep an eye on his watch, because Sora would often forget meal times. So at the end of every two or three chapters on that book of his, he made sure Sora was not confronting some colossal monster during a meal time, to make sure he ate at the proper times. Sora's mother had entrusted the task to him with a good-naturedly laugh, and Riku had agreed with rolling eyes. Incredibly enough, at the end of all those fights, Sora would eat as if he had wielded the sword himself.
He never ceased to amuse Riku.
Sometimes he would forget Riku was even there, behind him. When his friend with the long silver hair hit him hard with the hard cover of his book to announce dinner, he would jump in his position on the floor occasionally. Riku would roll his eyes then, and walk away, feeling somewhat dejected.
No one could really catch Sora's attention when he was so enrolled with his game, right?
One day, he fell asleep. The words in his book suddenly started getting all mixed together, and the soft music coming from Sora's game led him slowly into slumber. He thought he dreamt of something, then. But when he woke up, he couldn't remember a thing.
Because when he woke up, Sora was watching him closely.
He raised an eyebrow, somewhat surprised he could even watch something else in the room other than the screen. Sora lifted his hand, and pointed.
"You're drooling."
As if Sora couldn't get any more out of character. He was usually the one who did the teasing. However, Sora's laugh was so characteristic and humored, instead of glaring like he should have, he hit him lightly on the forehead. He faked a yawn.
"I don't know how you can keep up with your games for so long," he spoke, trying to win back his title as the teasing one. "My book becomes quite blurry after a couple of hours."
"I'm sure of it. It seems like you've been stuck in chapter 8 all week."
Riku's eyes widened. Sora was sitting a bit haphazardly on the floor after he had pushed him, grinning with some sort of emotion he couldn't read. Had he actually been paying attention to him all this time? Pretending to play that boring game of his? Multi-tasking was certainly not one of his skills, so what the hell, thought Riku.
Truth was, Sora actually couldn't multi-task. But when Riku had left for a restroom break at the beginning of the week, he had paused to stretch and decided to take a look at Riku's book while he was away. And on that day, while he was asleep, the power had gone out for a brief moment, and while the game re-started, he found his best friend asleep. He giggled when he peeked at his book and found him in the same chapter.
Riku's presence in the room was such a common occurrence it was like he was part of it as much as the couch, the screen or the ceiling fan were. Sora thought he was just there to make sure he didn't spend unhealthy times playing, to keep an eye on him. But when he noticed how neglected the book was, he felt so warmed up inside, he chuckled silently to himself and decided to show his friend that he, too, liked his presence.
He didn't shut the other out of his acknowledgement on purpose to begin with. Just because he was enrolled in his game, it didn't mean he didn't like spending time with him. He knew that, and Riku knew that, but he liked making it clear once in a while.
In the end, Sora wasn't much more than an absent-minded teenager who got too focused in his game, and Riku didn't pay as much attention to his book as he did to Sora. But a little white lie wouldn't hurt either of them, would it?
In the end, even if neither of them spoke about it, they simply could not do silly, routine things if they were apart.
And their little game of attention ended in ways they had not even imagined, as somewhere between thrown cushions and chases and tackles, they found themselves on the floor, laughing forehead-to-forehead, before losing their breaths in each other's lips.
A little white lie to cover up their flaws.
Sometimes, a little attention is all that's really needed.