You push through the coffee shop doors, sighing at the gust of hot air that rushes to meet you. Makoto is sitting by the window, on the loveseat, with two cups on the table in front of him. He smiles when he sees you, and you go to sit next to him.
"What's wrong?" he asks, concerned. Today, you aren't sporting your usual smile.
"Just...family," you reply vaguely. It's been tough recently. You don't really know where to start.
"Would it help to talk?" he offers.
"Maybe," you say. "You know it's always been like this, though." A small, breathy laugh escapes your lips.
Ever since your half-drunk, half-asleep talk with Makoto, the two of you had been inseparable. After recognizing your mutual squishy feelings, you had a good, solid, amazing relationship. You shared your lives, problems, aspirations, all that cutesy crap. You fell more for him every day, and he for you.
You'd begun to tell him more about your life at home, about your dysfunctional family, how hard it was, and the more you got out, the better you felt. Makoto was always there, picking you up when you fell, holding you when you needed someone to keep you grounded, helping you through the bumps in life.
Your mother was getting worse. She no longer provided the support you had once taken for granted. She scrutinized and criticized every decision you made, insulting everything you did. She was blunt, rude, and, to be truthful, she was a bitch. Your father had been absent your entire life, and even Makoto understood how much you depended on a maternal presence. But she remained, a bitch.
"It just keeps happening, you know?" you explain. "I'm doing great in school, made honour role, doing my part at home, I try so hard! But she's never satisfied. It's exhausting!" You slump against the back of the seat. Makoto takes both your hands in his, and tucks your head under his chin.
"I'm really sorry," he sympathizes. "I wish I could do something." he rubs comforting circles on the back of your hand.
You sigh. "Just a little longer. Then I can move away for university." You turn your head and smile up at him.
Makoto leans down, and catches your lips. The two of you kiss passionately, tongues intertwining, and for a moment you forget the woes of your life. In that moment, you can think only of how lucky you are, and how happy you can sometimes be these days, in his company.
"Let's do something fun. Get your mind off this," Makoto suggests when you finally separate. "How about a movie?"
"That sounds great," you say. The two of you pick up your drinks and head out into the brisk November morning.
The theatre isn't too far. When you arrive, you line up and scan the titles arranged along the walls.
"What would you like to see?" Makoto asks.
"Doesn't matter. Something fun?" you reiterate his previous suggestion from the coffee shop.
Makoto laughs. "Alright...how about that one?" he points to a poster.
"Nicolas Cage. Perfect."
You purchase tickets, and head in. After half an hour of commercials, the film begins, and Cage's beautiful, majestic, flawless face dances across the screen. Makoto puts his arm around your shoulders, and pulls you close. You relax into him, and the chaos of today melts away into the peace of your world with Makoto.