There's No Cure To Love Sickness
He tapped his foot impatiently, his hands wrung out in front of him and passer-by's would have thought he was waiting for his wife on labor.
He couldn't stand for it any longer and was about to leave when he saw the swerving gait of silver curls and flushed drunken face. He turned, changing his split second direction, and made towards him with long strides.
He stopped only inches away from the perm's face before a fierce punch sent the perms flying, and he collapsed by the walkway with little dignity.
He was livid.
I have something important to talk to you about. Meet me at 8pm in front of the station. That was what he wrote in the email this afternoon.
Now, the bell resound as the clock strikes midnight. He looked at the man lying limply out of drunkenness next to the shop's sign. He would have left him there, but there was something in him that couldn't.
He half-dragged and half-supported the man, stinking of alcohol and perfume, in the direction of the Yorozuya's. He heard him muttered something incorrigible, but he was still mad and decided to ignore it.
Once again, the perm muttered something. This time, half legible, and he could make out something close to the word '…don't…'.
'What are you muttering about, you drunk? If you can't say anything proper, just shut up and sleep.'
' …don't… say any…thing… li…ke you'll le…ave me…' he slurred and that surprised him because he thought that that was what he wanted of him. He thought that there was nothing left to salvage from this relationship with him.
Soft silver curls slid forward as the perm nodded off. He jerked, trying to keep himself to stay awake without much success and he soon abandoned his effort. Pretty soon, the perm was deeply asleep and he had to support the entire weight of the body beside him.
He drew the sleepy head in, tucking him to settle into the crook of his shoulder as he tried to slowly unburden himself on a bench. It was comfortable to watch him sleep, the silver curls nuzzled deeper into his warmth and into his heart.
'…if I could, I would've done it long ago…'
A/N: ah, insecurities... I love them when they're insecure. Btw, I'm getting a bit bored with this fic. Should I continue?