If the ring fits
The first thing he's aware of when be wakes up is that he hears sniffling.
Watanukis sniffling.
The moonlight falls from the window, resting on Watanukis bare back, the light casted is dim and makes the seer almost look blue in the dark, shoulders wracking with surpressed grief, trying to stay quiet.
As silently as he can manage, he reaches across the futon and rubs his newly made 'wife's' back in what he hopes are soothing circles. He resists the urge to make a sarcastic comment, his voice, deep and rusty from disuse a silent shock in the room.
"I'm sorry."
The seer turns to him, eyes wide and bloodshot, lips caught between his teeth, pale with shock. He recovers enough to narrow his eyes, sapphire eyes sparking to life.
"For what? That I cant spend the rest of my life with someone else? That your grandma thinks she'll get some beautiful bride and has probably heard us FUCKING from the other side of the house? That I broke my moms wedding ring, or that she isnt even my own mom and I'm some fucking parasite taking Syaorans life?" his voice cracked at parasite, the rest of his confession came out jumbled and incoherent with hysteria, the jet haired youth tugging at his hair with enough force to tear it out of his scalp. He scoops the frantic seer into his arms, unable to bare any more fury. "Im sorry." and he knows it won't do any good. "You are beautiful."
Its way too cold outsie to be walking outside at two in the morning.
Would be anyone elses thoughts, Watanuki reflected, wincing as he felt Doumekis essence drip from an area he was better off not describing, the experience worsened by tiger balm, the lubricant having a burning effect on him. The sensations redoubled the awkward pain from before, the bruises on his hip bones, the ache and drip from you-know-where.
The letter had been something else, Two weeks prior, and he had taken it as a sick joke that the witch intended he act upon. The gaps in memory from his childhood were evidence enough that he didnt know what his own mothers handwriting looked like, but there was one thing Watanuki knew.
Yuuko never lied to him.
A suspiciously odd foreigner, ( assuming from her skin color at the least) held an umbrella, looking extremly idiotic seeing as it was a dry summer night. As she moved closer to him, he started to notice little details that put her on the supernatural side.
"Give this letter to the archer if you will." she smiled, cat fangs glistening along with his pupiless eyes in the mild darkness. Hes learned to not react to strongly to the spirits he sees.
"I will." he bows for good measure, hoping to hide his hysterics. She laughs in amusement and strokes his hair thoughtfully, the hair on the back of his neck prickles with his growing anxiety that quickly adds to his sense of forboding, fearing her next words.
"Tell him a friend has come back."