I wrote this with some mood music that I thought I might share with you guys! I can't post links, but I say first listen to Chopin's Ballade No. 4, then Durufle's "Ubi Caritas et Amor." They are some of my favorite pieces and inspired this chapter.
The nights since Lili's death had been difficult ones. The shadows of his bedroom bore witness to his pathetic crying and unsuccessful attempts at slumber as he was plagued by dark thoughts and insistent memories night after night. He often spent hours simply staring at the ceiling, his hand pressed to his bare chest as if the pressure would soothe his aching heart. He ignored the heat of the tears streaking down his cheeks, allowing them to soak through his pillow until he had to either flip it over or toss it away completely. On some nights he would go and stand at Lili's door, listening for movement as if she had somehow magically returned to him in the night.
No matter how long he waited there, he never opened the door.
Last night, however, instead of being consumed entirely by anguished grief, Vash was filled to the brim with a churning tempest of dark emotions. He rolled back and forth in bed, kicking off his covers in frustration as he cursed himself, cursed Roderich, cursed the world, cursed everything for his torment. When he went to stand by Lili's door, he found himself unable to remain upright. Instead, he spent hours curled in a ball in front of the heavy expanse of oak. As he lay there, small and vulnerable, he asked the door questions as he would have his own sister, always the more socially adept one, about what he should do about Roderich. Pretending she could hear him helped ease the pain in his chest. He knew what Lili would have said of course. He knew the little knowing smile and fond-yet-exasperated sigh that she would have given before assuring him that he should make more friends and that Roderich was a perfectly good candidate for friendship. He knew everything except why she wasn't there herself telling him all these things.
By the time Vash had finally managed to return to bed, it was starting to grow light out. This, too, was a normal occurrence. His absence at school was not due to bereavement in the usual sense; it was due to the constant and insistent insomnia that plagued him every evening. He could not face an entire day of school without an ounce of rest, especially not in his constant state of mourning, so he had become accustomed to sleeping the day away. Thus, Vash found himself rather irritated to be jolted out of pleasant drowsiness by an insistent tapping at the door.
Wiping his eyes on his arm - which were still brimming with tears and swollen with exhaustion - Vash swung his legs over the side of the bed and began to stumble down the stairs. Through the fog of exhaustion he found himself wishing that Roderich had not confiscated his guns as he made his way through the mess of the foyer, tripping over broken objects as he went. He would very much to give whoever dared deny him his rest at this hour the scaring of their life, if only because it would be an outlet for the dark emotions he was holding bottled within his heart.
"What?" he demanded as he pulled the door open, hoping that his angry scowl would draw attention from his clearly tearful eyes. Any further angry demands, however, died on his lips as he spotted Roderich - hopeful, surprised Roderich who was standing in the door silhouetted by morning sun and clutching….
Vash's heart skipped a beat.
Roderich was stunned. Looking at Vash, he was sure he had only seen him this upset the day he had found him with the gun in his mouth, and the knowledge made his heart hurt. Vash's eyes were red and puffy, and his entire posture spoke to a deep exhaustion that Roderich could not even begin to imagine. Guilt struck him like a knife to the chest. He was supposed to be helping Vash, he was supposed to be fixing this. Yet he still looked as broken as he had on the very first day.
"Uh, well, I…" he began, suddenly unsure of what to say. He was sure that the look his old friend had given him the previous night had indicated that he should return, but Vash's angry scowl made him doubt everything he had previously thought. Perhaps this was wrong, perhaps Vash never wanted to see him again, perhaps he should just leave and never come back. The gifts he held in his hands felt suddenly heavy, as if they were weighed down by the doubt that they should have ever existed. It was only the desire to sooth the pain that he saw in those puffy, tired eyes that kept him anchored to the doorstep.
Vash, on the other hand, was dumbfounded. "What are those?" he croaked, gesturing to the bundle in Roderich's hand. He knew perfectly well what they were, but part of him wanted to hear it with his own ears. They were envelopes, and without even counting them he knew in the depths of heart that there were twenty six of them.
"Nevermind these," Roderich said, clutching the letters to his chest. His eyes shone with defiance. "You're more important. Did you sleep at all last night?"
Vash stared at the other man critically, fighting hard to ignore the warmth that was rapidly spreading through his chest. There was something off about Roderich today beyond the fact that he was at Vash's house at eight in the morning, and it did not take long for him to figure out what.
"Did I sleep?" he retorted, crossing his arms defensively. "I think the better question would be did you?" This, too, he knew the answer to just by taking in the scene before him. Vash was sure that looking at Roderich was in fact akin to looking in a mirror - the musician's physical exhaustion and emotional weariness was written all over his face.
Roderich colored slightly. "No," he admitted. "But that's not important, I can sleep after rehearsal today. And I sleep on a regular basis." He gave Vash a pointed look.
"My sleeping habits are none of your business," Vash grumbled, ducking his head to hide the heat he could feel rising to his cheeks. He was touched by Roderich's concern, even if it was somewhat gruffly administered. However, a long sleepless night and insecurity had made him prickly, so he did his best to hide his gratitude. "Why are you even here? It's seven in the morning."
"I have rehearsal at eight and it goes all day. Literally. This was the only time I could come see you," Roderich replied, his eyes pleading. Let me in, his expression begged.
"I didn't ask you to come," Vash grumbled. He had wanted Roderich to return, but he didn't have to say that aloud. The vulnerability in Roderich's face was making him uncomfortable.
Roderich sighed. "You should really give me a chance sometimes you know. I promise I'm not here to make your life miserable." Vash's head shot up.
You really should give him a chance you know. Lili's voice rang in his head, clearer than he had ever heard it since her death. For a moment, it was all he could do to stare at Roderich as tears began to well up in his eyes. Clearly caught off guard, Roderich merely stood in silent stillness as Vash gazed up at him, a rainbow emotions playing across his delicate face as he debated with himself about how best to handle the situation. Vash took Roderich's state of inaction as an opportunity to truly examine the letters he had nestled in the crook of his elbow, tied together into a bundle by a long piece of violet ribbon. While he had no doubt that they were not the originals, that somehow did not matter to him. There, standing before him, was the proof he needed that maybe, just maybe, Roderich was worth trusting after all.
"Did you really stay up all night writing those?" Vash asked, gesturing to the letters. Roderich looked as if he was going to give an indignant reply but thought better of it, instead merely nodding. Something uncoiled in Vash's chest, and in response he angled his body so the doorway was unblocked.
"Come in," Vash replied, unable to properly verbalize what he was feeling. He could only hope that Roderich could read what he could not say in his face, as he always had when they were children. Roderich's eyes widened, and Vash could not help but notice a faint smile dance across the musician's thin lips as he crossed into the house.
Roderich paused only a few paces into the foyer, turning to look Vash in the eye. There was a steely determination there that Vash had not seen before. It had completely replaced the quiet insecurity that had been written all over his face just minutes earlier, and Vash was not sure how he felt about it. In the confusion his life had become, the only thing he was truly sure about now was how strangely warm he had felt since he had seen Roderich's bundle of letters.
"These are for you," Roderich said, nudging the collection of envelopes with his free hand. Vash's heart leapt at the confirmation of his suspicions, but he fought to keep his joy from his face. He wasn't quite comfortable with that level of openness yet. "But-"
"What do you mean but?" Vash demanded, the warmth in his chest suddenly blazing to the familiar heat of anger. His usual defensive barrier of rage had returned full force, driving his mind into anxious over drive and protecting him from the strange vulnerability that Roderich's gesture had made him feel. Who did Roderich think he was, putting conditions on the symbol of their friendship, on his own gesture of kindness? What was he-
"But I don't want you to open them just yet. Please. I want you to be well rested and calm when you read them." Vash's angry thoughts halted in their tracks, and his fury cooled. There Roderich was, trying to be helpful and kind and infuriatingly caring. Yet instead of his usual prickliness, Vash could only bring himself to feel deeply grateful towards the other man. Clearly encouraged by Vash's response, Roderich continued. "Please Vash, go to bed. The letters will be here when you wake up, and I will return soon." There was pleading in his eyes and in his voice, and Vash found himself with no choice but to give a grunt of assent. Giving Roderich his best "I don't know how to say thank you but I want you to know I'm grateful" look, he turned and made his way up the stairs. He heard a faint sound of moving objects and rustling of papers downstairs but thought little of it as he sank into bed, overcome with exhaustion and for once feeling at peace enough to sink quickly into slumber.
Just as sleep was taking him, Vash was sure he heard the sound of Lili's door opening and closing, but could not bring himself back to the realm of wakefulness long enough to question it.
For the first time in a long time, Vash slept soundly.
A/N: Sorry to bother you guys twice in a chapter, but I wanted to say a couple things!
First, to those of you who have faved/followed/reviewed, thank you so much. Your kindness makes my day.
To those of you who have read but haven't left reviews, I would ask you consider doing so! I want to know what you think so I can make the fic better for you! Plus I must admit I live off your feedback.
Second, I apologize for the brevity of this chapter, but I promise it will make sense in the broader context of the fic. Not every chapter can be 5k words long!
Third, I hope you listened to/enjoyed the mood music.
Sorry for the long note and thank you all for reading!