The Gathering Fields
Rat tat tat tat tat, ping—hail rapping on the fire escape. He could hear beneath it the cold clean sound of cars on rainy pavement, like ladies of breeding distantly tearing the finest silk. A breeze crept through the open, unshaded and unopposed window and over his nose, cooling the sheets, and he could feel it then too. A day made for sleeping in, because it wouldn't change an inch.
But Hiro opened his eyes to meet the low silver light anyway. He cautiously turned his head out of its warm pillow-imprint and cautiously smiled past the cat planted between them at Brooklyn, curled on his side away, facing the exit. During the night, somehow, Brooklyn had taken Hiro's hand and pulled it onto his hip. It still rested there beneath his own, smaller and paler, longer fingers with fewer calluses.
Hiro cautiously read a certain desperation in how those fingers had intertwined complexly with his own. With all his will, he refused to let them twitch. Because during the night, somehow, Brooklyn had come back to their apartment and come to bed instead of floor or fire escape and—not cocooned himself in sheets or kicked Hiro straight out. Their apartment.
Hail pinged outside; Hiro felt in that room and his chest a bastion of warmth against it, and skipped every other inhalation, refusing to breathe the day for perspective. He listened to Brooklyn's breathing instead, and then cautiously leaned over; paused to study the rim of his ear festooned in russet locks, and with the barest touch of his free hand dragged a leaf loose from the tangled mess.
The cat uncoiled from his silky ball, stretched out his forepaws to touch Hiro's face, and yawned enormously. Brooklyn dragged the sheet closer.
A/N: Valentin's Dey drabbles dedicated to my 'andsome. Obviously I've foregone the word count for the sake of Cute. And may the fluff be with us forevermore.
If you want to feel what I did while writing this set, go to Pandora .com and make a radio station for Yiruma. What you hear might just break your heart, but then leave it all the better.
I think that's what love does.