Beautiful people :

Pryzmat

masuchii

Shibue Miyuu

3

Guest

Guest

LucasZorro

ShiroNoHikari

jesus

You guys are still so loyal! I'm like, so touched and currently am feeling sappy. Was it the 80s music? I don't know. . . I even start listening to Bobby Darin, like whoa. . . I never really listen to the 80s but after watching Netflix and how they have tendencies to give this old vibe, I really like it! I WANNA WRITE 80S VIBES EEK

AND THANKS FOR THE WELCOME WISH AHAHAHA

Love Me For Thirty Days

DAY TWENTY-ONE

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NINE MORE DAYS

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Friday

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"We are told that people stay in love because of chemistry, or because they remain intrigued with each other, because of many kindnesses, because of luck. But part of it has got to be forgiveness and gratefulness. "
― Ellen Goodman

For a man such as Akashi Seijuurou, he was known for his strength and leadership as well as his capabilities of solving every problems by his own.

Though, for conditions such as what was happening at the current moment, one could simply stated that said powerful man (perhaps on Earth, as to what Sakura would always be gleeful about ― "Otousan is the greatest, of course!") was at the mishap shape, totally chaotic and perplexed.

Perhaps, there was a reason why there were two other men inside his house, aiding him to tend to his daughter and well, waiting for a word to be spoken from him. Yet, Seijuurou feigned silent. Not that he was supposed to ignore them, instead he was feeling groggy than ever before.

He probably did not get the chance for any winks of sleep at night, resulting himself to feed on more coffee, in fact, it was his fifth in the morning and he groaned to open the freezer for yet another microwaved meal.

By the counter, Sakura was grumbling ― certainly not satisfied with the conditions of her own godfather. She wanted to help! ― but what can a five-year old do?

"Otou-san, can we buy the breakfast set over in Maji's? I'm tired of eating plastic-tasting carrots," whined Sakura slowly, her cheeks plopping by the surface.

The redhead glanced at her, blinked for a few times, then towards the other two; on which, they only gave a shrug as their meek response.

"What in the world happened between you and Tetsuya anyway?", the green-haired male started, fixing his glasses back to its place and gave him a curious glint within the striking green pools.

Seijuurou sighed, "We have an argument, Shintarou. I thought that's pretty much obvious."

"He meant from the beginning," Atsushi chimed in. "Why would you and Kuro-chin fought in the first place?" The tallest man would still call the blunette Kuro-chin despite him already bearing the surname of an Akashi. Well, he didn't really bother with those kind of things anyway.

In the corner, Sakura was glancing to and fro between her godfather holding an uneasy expression and toward the counter on which she was eating a three day old Jell-O. She would need to resupply her snacks by her own very soon. "Uh. . . Otou-san wouldn't like it if ―"

"No, it's fine Sakura. . ." he sighed, "It's my fault entirely, right love?"

"N-no!" The five-year old raised her voice, "Sakura-chan doesn't think that way! Otou-san is just, er. . . Confused!"

Midorima Shintarou blinked, "An Akashi? Confused?" He snickered, "That would have sounded very humorous back when we were in high school ―"

"Shintarou, I would really kill you if you said another word."

Apparently, upon his statement, the room suddenly turned cold like a winter's weather. The green-haired man did not speak a word afterwards, a long pause in the ionised air, he felt himself tensed but he maintained a degree of his cold gaze upon the redhead. Beside him, Atsushi could only sigh and Sakura was cold to her feet ― frightened.

It was the purple-haired male who broke the tension, "Well, that's the high school Aka-chin we knew," he snorted a snicker, on which the said male just sighed.

"You guys are not helping."

"Oh, we are. . ." they both said at the same time before glancing toward each other, "But you know you gotta deal with him by your own, Aka-chin" ― Atsushi said ― "It's only a matter of time before. . . you get what I meant."

"Well, if you excuse us. . ." Midorima stood up, grabbing his case but not before ruffling the girl's head affectionately, "Would you like to try staying at my house for the night? You remembered Kazunari-san, right?"

Sakura brightened up, "Yeah! You're living with him?" She asked with full curiosity on which the male responded with a low cough and a pink spread across his chin. "Otou-san, can I. . .?"

"Sure, love," Seijuurou feigned a genuine, warm smile. "Let's get you packed up."

At some point, Akashi Tetsuya still felt the need to stay in the inn. He contacted Kagami-kun, again, but well, his memories were all jumbled up and he was confused and probably comfort from a close friend would do him a pretty good number at the moment.

Well, it was quiet at the very least ― no arguments, no crashing doors on which the resonance spread along the tight-spaced corridors.

"Oi Kuro," the man grunted, "You're freaking me out, man! Where the hell are you right now?!"

"Still at the same place, I think. . ."

"You think? Motherfucker. . . Do you want me to ―"

"No, Kagami-kun! I ―" he paused, swallowing, "I don't know. . . I. . . I want to call Sei-kun."

He could hear him gasp from the other line, "Are you freaking serious? That sonuva ―"

"No, please. . . Kagami-kun," his voice hardened, "Don't say that. Don't call me that. . ." another pause drawled on, he pursed his lips and brows crooked, "You know what, never mind."

And the call ended just like that.

Even with the supposedly tranquility which enveloped the whole space, saved by the noise clattering about by tourists and locals outside the streets, his mind was troubled and he was feeling rather agitated than before.

It was almost a week since he had been out of his house. A freaking week ― Kami, was Sakura alright? Was she eating well? What about the bunch of journals he haven't posted in his own blog, the advertisement company must have called ― how come he never noticed?! ― Satsuki and his other friends must have been concerned as well.

And Sei-kun.

Poor, poor Seijuurou.

In a way, the blunette felt that he should not have just reckless ran away with any roads to follow, no purpose to head toward to. He was probably just as lost as his own lover as well. Tetsuya decided to check the contents of his bag. Other than a couple of shirts and jeans, a jacket, there was a polaroid with several pictures and piece of paper tucked beneath the device.

He picked the one viewing them in Philippines. The chiseled visage of his husband, every lines and corners that he remembered caressing them every night; concerned double-coloured eyes, gazing upon his own pallid blue ― intently searching for something within.

As much as he hated to admit it, but Tetsuya was missing his husband at the moment. He felt his own heart melting at the thought of him, whatever flames shaping his heart to pure stone was long gone and instead he was caught with waves of longing.

Night time was a raining galore, the streets washed with skies' damned tears and thunders blaring constantly from above. Such a gloomy setting by the horizon, such a dangerous time to venture outside ― but it was like the blunette was a lover and a sucker for rain, he passed along the soaking vendor streets, strolling by the mollifying town of Kyoto.

The blunette did not realised the approaching figure behind him till he felt the rain slowly subsided from above him, and yet not from his sight. Tetsuya turned around, gasped and stumbled when he was faced with none other than his lover.

"S-S-Sei!"

"Tetsuya, let's go home."

"W-Wait!"

The other Akashi did not speak another word. Gently, he held Tetsuya by his wrist and led him toward his vehicle waiting at the other side of the road. The smaller male felt the need to retaliate, to fight back, to scream at Seijuurou to wait. Yet, his energy seemed to drain ― all his emotions faded, and he felt his eyes stung; briny tears streaming down his face and he halted his steps.

"Sei-kun. . . Wait. . ."

It was due to the weak whimper, soft and mellow and god damned pathetic, the redhead finally stopped and turned. His gaze was cold, staring upon the wavering blue eyes, yet Tetsuya knew ― he just knew ― the man in front of him had been so frightenened as well.

"Can we just. . . go home now?"

"No. . ." he pleaded, "I don't know. . ." he was sobbing, "Seijuurou, I need to talk to you. We," the blunette sucked on a lump of air, "We need to talk this out."

The redhead did not hesitate but pulled him into a tight embrace, forsaking his umbrella by ditching it somewhere and by his face so close to Tetsuya's own, he heard the low, almost inaudible cries belonging to Seijuurou as well.

Of course. . . How can he be so stupid?

Of course, he wanted to talk too. Of course, he wanted to sort things out together. Of course, Akashi Seijuurou ― this one, powerful man who could probably hire a hitman and escape from such crime, perhaps ― was hurting as well in this very situation. Of course, he wanted everything to be the same as before.

Young, foolish people with nothing but empty dreams.

But they were happy back then; they were better.

"Fine. . ." Tetsuya whispered, finding his hand tucking crimson strands to one ear, he kissed the redhead's forehead, "Let's go home."

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It was supposed to be better.

It was supposed to be a conversation, and yes, they were supposed to sort things out.

But neither of them spoke, Seijuurou leant against the vertical space of counter with a bottle of Brandy's in his grasp, he took large swings and emptied another one within the night. Tetsuya, all soaked, and draped with towels they managed to grab by in the guest's bedroom, sat in the opposite corner, sulking and contemplating on what to speak.

They already passed by midnight, and the whole surroundings were a constant buzzing peace. Yet, these two people in opposite corners remained unspoken, not looking at each other and occasionally sighed or groaned from their own trance.

Finally, it was Seijuurou who broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Tetsuya, I ―"

"I'm sorry, Sei-kun."

The redhead blinked, then he suddenly roared in a rare release of a snorting kind of laughter; "It's not your fault, Tetsuya. . ."

"Why are you finding this funny?"

"I'm not. . ."

"Why are you like this then?"

"I'm trying to ―" the redhead blinked again, realising the fact that his voice was high in volume. He sucked his breathe, and opened his eyes, "I started it, remember?"

The blunette paused for a long time, "I'm not so sure about it anymore."

There was another moment of silence. . . Seijuurou was the one to break it once more; "Love. . ." he drawled slowly, Tetsuya swore the hairs on his forearm rose, he was feeling cold all over, "Come here," ordered the redhead.

"No."

"Then, I'm coming towards you."

"No. . ."

Seijuurou crawled closer, nevertheless.

"No. . . Please. . ." Tetsuya closed his eyes, covering his ears with both palms.

He was getting closer, and faster.

"No ―"

The blunette felt a semblance of warmth, a sense of affection and longing within the touch. The chilly, intoxicated air suddenly became warmer, and there was comfort. He felt his breathing regained a normal pace once again, he felt his arms circling the lean body and fingers scraping the hems of his dress shirt.

A long embrace, not too tight yet not too loose.

They both parted, not too long, before Seijuurou leaned forward to claim the awaited, plump lips of Tetsuya. He gave entrance right away, and Seijuurou get to taste the sweet cavern and explore the feeling he missed for so long. They pulled apart yet again, and dive in for a second course of the night.

Sloppy and messy and chaotic and hasty ― all similar as to their lives right now. But it did not really matter. . . Both of them felt good, both felt that nostalgic feeling of giddiness and excitement, and Seijuurou felt the need to nibble on the smaller male's lips. A giggle escaped his lips, for a long moment, sienna and crimson gazed upon pallid azure.

"I missed you," both of them chimed in.

When they broke apart for real, but still clinging against each other, Seijuurou chuckled lowly, "See, it's not too bad. . ."

Tetsuya smiled, gulping in response. "We still need to talk."

"Of course, love. . ."

They both shuffled to a much comfortable position, the blunette playing with the collar of Seijuurou's shirt, his tone was low and serious and his eyes which were previously mellow started to harden.

"Let's begin."

TO BE CONTINUED

Mozu : Haa hahhahahah I left y'all hanging but you get the good part mwahahahhahaha

Anyway, what's this? Another update? Mozuchii, ARE YOU INSANE?

YES I AM! MWAHAHAHHAA

X FOR LOVE, O FOR HATE!

-Mozu The Mochi (2017)