Disclaimer: I do not own xxxHOLiC
.
.
..
.
.
Empty
By letmeupme
.
.
.
.
Sometimes, he calls Himawari.
Sometimes she visits.
They look out for each other: the pretty woman who can't keep friends, and the brusque man who doesn't make the effort.
She is married now, with a successful businessman that never stays in the country long enough for her luck to brush off on him.
.
Usually, they would walk, or have a cup of tea.
.
A little after her marriage, she'd come to his house once.
That one time, they'd shared a bed.
Unsurprisingly, their time together didn't have any true heat for all that it was pleasurable; the aftertaste dry and flat.
They had still been too hopeful for it to work.
It reminded the both of them of what they couldn't have.
.
.
It's just as well that he doesn't call, just as he didn't call the day before, or the day before that.
Just as he hasn't called for weeks, months, and years.
The brusque young man can count how many seconds have passed since he last heard his voice, but he doesn't feel like it.
.
.
He wonders if he should feel regret for how he is still so hopeful.
The last to exit Pandora's Box, was hope truly such a curse?
He doesn't care. It is all he has.
.
.
..
.
.