A/N: it's been so long since I've been brave enough to write. I'm so thankful you're here to read it.
Obv- I don't own Fruits Basket. This will be a series of one shots and some short interconnected stories.
He waited until she had slipped into the other room, and then he slammed his fist down on the table. He was getting better. Before, he might haIe broken it right in front of her. But now it was just a quick display of helplessness. The bills fell to the floor like feathers falling behind a bird.
"Kyo," she said, peaking around the door. "Is… everything alright?"
He looked at her and softened. That's the whole reason he was upset about it in the first place. They could get by— he provided for her. For himself, he couldn't care less. But for her… he wanted to give her islands and moons and castles. Fairytales in bright colors wrapped in gold. Because… she deserved those things. Because… she would never think to ask for them.
She hurried over and collected the papers from the floor, the writing on them like markings in soot.
She frowned.
"It's okay. We'll make it this month.." and he felt worse for upsetting her.
She studied him, then smiled. "Why don't I make dinner?"
That night she shivered when she got into bed. They avoided running the heat, when they could help it. But tonight, it just brought him down. Comfort seemed like a bare minimum of what he wanted to give her.
His arm wrapped around her, drawing her against him. "If it gets bad, I'll go turn on the furnace." The furnace didn't do a terrible job, but it was finicky to turn on, and it smelled of singed hair for a half hour or so once it got started.
Looking up at him she saw that small sadness in his amber eyes, through the dark.
"You know," she said, in her soft voice. She touched his copper hair with a delicate stroke of her fingers, before her hand settled on his cheek. "After my mom died, and I was living in that tent, I would get home, and it was so dark, and it would get really cold at night. I had to sleep on the floor, and it was just mom's picture with me. Sometimes, it leaked or the ground would get soaked. Did I ever tell you about the slugs?" She giggled gently. "I was cooking on a hot plate." Her sweet smile radiated with somberness. "So many nights, it was really scary." Then, her eyes grew dreamy even in the dark. "And now, I'm here. The roof doesn't leak. I have a kitchen with a real stove…the storms don't get in and there's light, and this cozy bed…" She snuggled downward. "And— and when I get back, the man I love…" she looked at him. Crystal tears brimmed on the corners of her eyes. "Is here. Keeping me safe, and taking care of me." She pressed her head against his chest. "Kyo," she lingered on his name and his heart ached. "I'm so thankful, just to be with you. Every day."
His hand threaded through her hair. The moonlight shone through the blinds, highlighting her silhouette.
"I just…want to give you everything." He kissed her forehead. "Like you've given me."
"You already do." She looked up at him. "You're my home."
Tilting her chin up, he kissed her. Whenever he thought he couldn't love her more, there she went. He still thought she deserved islands and moons and castles. He would keep fighting to be a man worthy of her. But for now, it was enough. He got to love her.