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Since all of you are commenting the same thing, I was thinking of just replying it short. So yeah, maybe Tetsuya will find his happiness~ Idk~ Am I evil? No. I'm just messed up. XD AND THANK YOU FOR THE Xs! I love you all. :3
Note : I think I have encountered with the most suitable quote for this story. Ermaiiguuudness. Oh, OOC warning here I guess.
Love Me For Thirty Days
DAY FOUR
TUESDAY
.
.
.
"I think you still love me, but we can't escape the fact that I'm not enough for you. I knew this was going to happen. So I'm not blaming you for falling in love with another woman. I'm not angry, either. I should be, but I'm not. I just feel pain. A lot of pain. I thought I could imagine how much this would hurt, but I was wrong."
― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun
What would a guilty person do when he or she was countered with the biggest mistake he or she had conducted?
That question itself led to numerous – a variety of – responses and answers and conclusions. Some would riposte a few common suggestions; like running away, because for some humans, forgetting their problems was the easiest and what they concluded was that they should enjoy life. In their cases, it was as if they were given thousands of weights upon their arms and what they did was literally – literally – threshed them away, not even a conscience. But some other would have the heart to actually solve their mistakes, no matter how long a journey would take, to make things right was essential to their lives. Of course, opinions varied, debates had ensued – like most humans would do; they would always find ways to categorise themselves and fought for which one was better. Yet statements are words, written or spoken, not actions done in reality.
How many was it, in percentage, had humans came upon actions than words?
Movies were made to set good moral values in their contents. But then, why would people need to take morals from work of fictions when their own rational mind could actually think of it?
Come to think of it; an American psychologist had changed his thesis before demise had kissed upon his soul, stating that humans are all the same, it was just that there were six billion ways of expressing a person.
Everybody in the world might face this problem, in fact, even a priest could be a sinner; we, as humans, weren't the epitome of perfection. And everyone, in my opinion, might had felt the hesitation, might as well had taken the backward steps. Humans have fear, alright, and not a single person had never felt the fear to confront others before.
Apparently, there was Akashi Seijuurou.
A man known for his absoluteness, a man known to never defy, a man known like an emperor in his glorious days, showered with victories and ecstasy. Yet even a man like him hadn't managed to escape from such fear; and there was he, outside of a pouring Tuesday, looking as if he might be facing with the deadliest demon buried in Earth, face as if he was going to meet a priest for a confession. And worse yet, was his hands shaking like he might drop any object he could grip. Unfortunately, even the door knob glistening in shiny silver looked venomous and full of thorns.
Even if he had lost his feelings, he wished not to hurt the blunette's feelings. Although, he might as well already did the previous night.
There was no escape now, even when his legs – if they could speak – was begging to be reeled away from the door. But the man stood still, heels firm and proud against the limestone, and composure fixated at the most monotonous façade he could ever make of.
Again, his hands trembled when one was close to the knob. Reaching it felt like it took hours, whilst he had been standing for thirty minutes, figuring whether he should return or not.
The redhead had no intentions to be a bad man; he wasn't going to be the cheating man who abused the other. He was a man with dignity and respect, and he would keep it – selfish or not.
But before he could actually open the front door by his own, the knob twisted by itself and when open, as expected, revealing the shorter male; puffy-eyed and exhausted as Hell. And of course, not to mention the displeased look – maya blue contorted with a deep plunge of hurt and offense. Seijuurou had never felt such bitterness dwelling inside his chest.
"Tetsu –"
"I don't want to hear it," huffed the blunette, fixing the soft blue strands plucking to his cherub cheeks (how he maintained such soft texture of his cheeks, even the redhead couldn't figure it out), "If you feel like you wanted to be at home, then be it."
So he was mad? Obviously. "Tetsuya, I'm sorry."
"No, no, no. I get it, you don't have to apologise." But his voice shaky, Seijuurou knew how weak Tetsuya was in terms of emotions.
"Still –"
Before the words could escape from the tip of his tongue – it was really, really, really at the tip to be honest – the Akashi heir witnessed a horrifying action; just for a brief moment, he had his mismatched eyes widened when the lithe figure in front of him collapsed out of the blue. He witnessed; just a second before; how the sky blue pools rolled back and his legs went limp. Almost – fucking almost did the blunette fell flat to the ground. Luckily, with his fast reflexes built up over the years, he managed to caught the red-faced blunette by his arms.
First time in his life of twenty-eight years, the redhead was clueless.
"Tetsuya. . ."
He shook the unconscious man, his skin shivered once he realised the extreme chill wrapping over the already pale skin of his spouse.
"Tetsuya – Tetsu – wha. . . what happened?!"
The man ran toward his car, a silvery-white shade to the BMW he proudly owned without his father's finances. Quivering, he placed the limp body at the back seat, making sure the unconscious man was actually comfortable despite his absence of wake. Even if his feelings disappeared, into thin air they did, but the tender care was still in presence, surprisingly.
It was too early for the morning sun; beneath the pouring shower, the car drove across the lane too fast.
Somewhere deep in his mind, a part of him whispered that he shouldn't lose Tetsuya just yet.
It was a fever.
The doctor sprang into the ward with a clipboard tucked in between his arm, glasses thick like the knowledge he had; stating that the poor blunette had been too stressed and worked too much that his body couldn't take any burdens anymore. The doctor's statement itself – a simple declaration – was enough to make the Akashi heir felt culpable. Similar shades of scarlet spread over his cheeks till it reached to the tip of his ears, just how shamefaced he was. Deep inside, all he wanted to do was to hide from Tetsuya.
But a man's ego was stronger, they said.
His feet was twitching, begging to run, but he stood firmly, ready to face the blunette with their current problems.
But even when he brought Tetsuya home, the shorter male – he was light as Hell – was still in deep slumber, refusing to budge. Even when the fresh rays greeted, flashing about his eyelids, he was still snoozing, curled beneath the thick duvet like a child he was supposed to be.
And loyally, though it was such a surprise, Seijuurou waited beside the bedridden man. He should be out by now, greeting workers and colleagues, attending meetings and such; but even a busy man like him stayed home; hoping, waiting. . .
"Oh God, what have I done. . .?"
It was just a fever, yet his heart was heavy with concerns.
Despite the constant calls from Yui, he refused to leave the sleeping blunette's side. The redhead could imagine how the woman would childishly puffed her cheeks, and Kami, women's lectures were the worst. Still, he sat on the empty space of the spacious bed, wondering how the times when Tetsuya slept beside him – the hollow and lonely feeling was still there.
Again, the question appeared; was marriage a wrong choice?
It was when Seijuurou went to the kitchen, reality kissed the blunette into his wake. Gasping, like he ran out of air, the blunette awoke with a startled jump and a semblance of warmth spreading to his legs. His head cocked, soft blue tufts bounced as he did so, upon the sight of the familiar bedroom and white duvet on top of him.
Why was he tucked in bed? The blunette vaguely remembered what happen a couple of hours ago – or was it minutes? – a day? – what time is it?
"Yui. . ."
The voice was loud enough to reach inside the bedroom. Upon hearing the name, the scornful frown stretched toward the blunette's lips and the hurt look returned. He sunk deeper into the sheets, covering his head even so, sulking like a child.
"– tonight? No, I. . ."
He's going out again, thought Tetsuya, burying his face, cheeks blazed in crimson from extreme body heat and anger.
"I'm sorry, I can't."
The redhead might had put the call in loud speaker, certainly because Tetsuya could heard a woman's shriek from the opposite line, spouting a bunch of nonsense and sputtering a lot of why's. Somehow, a devilish, cheeky side of him felt amused how Seijuurou could handle such attitude.
"I can't leave Tetsuya alone."
Oh.
His chest twisted into a different kind of pain.
What is this feeling?
"WHAT?!"
"I'll see you tomorrow."
The line went dead.
Then, there was the usual string of huffs and sighs. The sounds of stomping feet raging nearer to the door and perhaps, the redhead might had broken a glass throughout the process. The door flung open, revealing a seething, red-faced Akashi Seijuurou gazing upon an amused Tetsuya with wearing a rare kind of smile. Was it mockery? – Seijuurou suspected it was indeed.
"Must be funny for you."
"I guess so – yeah, it is. . ."
"You must have loved my misery."
"I never said that."
"Oh, but I know you feel that way."
Sapphire clashed into pools of raw crimson and sienna. Every time they wanted a conversation, it would lead to some sort of an argument. To be honest, it was tiring. Both of them agreed to that. And you know, in this common, monochrome world – a man took action, the submissive one wept in remorse.
"What's that?" Tetsuya decided to change the topic, avoiding further tension.
The redhead glimpsed briefly, gulping; "Food. And this time, you need to finish it. I just. . . you know. . . I don't like it when you're sick. You actually frightened me in the morning. . . I guess?" The redhead was uncertain of his words, but he held his blush; "Just. . . I cooked hard for it. Please, eat it."
"Oh."
That was it.
Well, because. . . there wasn't anything better to be said. Or rather, it was too awkward to say it. It felt wrong the moment you wanted to bid your thanks, but then when you thought about it, the word was yet foreign in your mind dictionary. Because, you simply never really did say thanks for the other one in reality, now it was just like any other moment but it just felt slightly heavier than usual.
Or perhaps, Tetsuya was too stunned – too touched – too much indulging the foreign feelings he had yet received. It felt rare, it felt warm, it was giddy, it was gleeful. And all that he wanted to do was to hide beneath the covers and giggle like a high school girl.
It just felt nice.
And he had slept wonderfully – Kami! – he slept till dusk was about to greet the world, and the sun rushing back to its home. Amidst the weather, the night might be cold. Yet, the warmth spreading inside him yet had to become a semblance in the interim. Tetsuya stayed in bed, his knees curled to a comfortable position, watching the latter doing his chores instead and preparing meals. Honestly, it was amusing and whimsical and joyous – at the same time, yeah – to watch. Gleaming pools of sapphire showed a lot of hints of amusement, and they twinkled; for a brief moment, Seijuurou felt that kind of sparks he felt when he first met the blunette.
The redhead stirred the thoughts, clearing his throat as he did so.
"So. . . um, you're okay now?"
"I guess so."
"Feeling warm?"
"Yeah. . ."
The redhead went closer.
"Do you want anything else?"
The blunette thought for a moment, then afterwards the redhead witnessed the pale cheeks turned scarlet over something. Dazed, he saw the blunette shaking his head.
". . . Well, just stay here, I guess. . ."
The Akashi heir had his heart skipped a beat. The mismatched orbs opened wide enough to state surprise, and he softened his gaze.
"I won't leave. I promise."
Not much was said that night. Simply as if their problems never really existed. Yet again, intimacy was still lacking and they just stayed at two opposite ends of the bed, feeding thoughts after thoughts to distress.
Of course, it was tense as usual. But it was a different kind, like they wanted to say something but they couldn't.
And at last, Tetsuya was the one to break the still surroundings.
"Hey. . ." he whispered, almost inaudibly.
"Hm?"
The blue-haired male had his face buried in between his knees, but the redhead was sure he was blushing – the tip of his right ear was bright crimson after all.
"I just wanted to say. . . t-thank you for today."
"For what?"
"You. . . you stayed. For me. . . Today, you chose me after her."
The redhead gulped. What was this odd emotions lingering in him? "I just do what I have to do, Tetsuya."
The blunette just smiled. It was gentle, tender, full of care, full of love; the Akashi just knew of it.
He felt hot all over, not just the room itself, not just his blazing cheeks but all over his body was warped with an intense heat he couldn't figure out. And the redhead found his face leaning closer and closer till the tip of their noses brushed against each other; closer again till their foreheads met; closer once more until they felt their lips touching, till the distance was no more than a small gap for a chance of breathing. And they kissed like they were in pain, like tomorrow was the end of the world, like any of them would die any minute. They kissed for what felt like eternity, but in reality, it lasted mere seconds. Yet, it felt like they had claimed the entire world into their own empire. God, he actually missed kisses like this.
When they broke apart, Seijuurou was shocked – and he had that uncertainty wearing on his expression again.
"I. . . I'm sorry. . . I can't. Just. . . Not yet."
"Wait – why did you –"
Once again, Akashi Seijuurou fled for the night.
This time, Tetsuya didn't stop him. He, too, was clueless for his own good.
TO BE CONTINUED
Mozu : Poor letter didn't make a cameo in this chapter. Hehee! Should this be the last update of the month? I don't know. You guys didn't give me 90 reviews after all! *pouts*
Hahaha! Nah, that's just an experiment thingy. I witness few authors doing that and they really do get the number of reviews they wished for. Soooo ~ Let's make this baby a hundred? If it's 100 reviews, then perhaps I'll think of a smut in the right scene. Or fluff. You choose. *laughs*
I'm replaying Gaia Online once again. Old memories. . . *cries*
X FOR LOVE! O FOR HATE!
-Mozu The Mochi (2015)