Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation. Maki Murakami does.
Prompt: Shuichi held the chipped mug close to his chest, a tear tracing down his cheek. Broken, just like he was.
Note: Ties into the 3rd entry, "Blame".
Rating: T for mentions of rape, dark thoughts, and dark fluff.
Broken
The moon was barely large enough to light up the large apartment in lieu of the giant glass balcony door, but even if it was not there at all, Shuichi would not be lost. He knew his way around the home with his eyes closed (had tested that theory soundly several times). The pink-haired teen dared not turn on a light, at any rate, knowing that even the slightest variation in nightly happenings would awaken his lover in an instant.
( I found the chipped mug you tried to hide in the back of the cabinet. I threw it out. )
It was a stupid thing, really. A few weeks ago, though he would have mourned the loss, he would have been okay with tossing out a rui-chipped up mug, in the end. There were so many more in the apartment that they took up two cabinets. He had just kept this one because Yuki hadn't been there to tell him to toss it. But now here he was, sneaking about in the middle of the night to pull said mug out of the trash. He couldn't bear the thought of getting rid of something that had the same problem as he did.
( I don't keep things once they've been ruined. They're not worth my time.)
It seemed heartless.
( They're not worth my time. )
Shuichi opened the pantry gently, cringing in expectation of a creak that did not come, before smiling slightly at the dim revelation of the blue trashcan inside. With gentle movement, he lowered his hand inside, brushing away the revulsion of trash as he sought the smooth coolness of the ceramic cup. His fingers grazed it with a jolt of surprise not even halfway down, and before he could contemplate his actions he retracted, carefully releasing the mug from its prison. His smile grew soft and slightly sad at the sight of it. Chipped indeed – it looked as though it had been callously treated and dropped one too many times. Had he really been the one to do this? Treated something so pure, so harshly?
He flinched.
"There's nothing wrong with you," he whispered softly as he shut the pantry door, caressing the gleaming white mug soothingly. "You're just a little banged up, no reason to throw you away. Broken things can be fixed, you know." He froze as the words left his mouth, shaking slightly as he recalled having heard them before. Having heard them before, coming from his own lips as he had stared at his battered reflection in the mirror. And though he had them to himself, he had not believed them. Not for a moment. "I'm such a hypocrite, huh?" He laughed sadly, shaking his head. "Sorry. I know what you're thinking."
And as his body began to shake, Shuichi held the chipped mug close to his chest, a tear tracing down his cheek. Broken, just like he was. And tossed out, like he should be.
"I thought you said you understood."
With a startled yelp, the singer whirled around to face the source of the voice, eyes wide and guilty as they took in the form of his lover leaning against the door frame, a cigarette unlit in his mouth. "Y-Yuki."
The blonde regarded him critically for a moment, so intensely that Shuichi fidgeted nervously, still holding the mug protectively. And then amber eyes rolled as the novelist slowly shook his head, stepping into the kitchen.
"I told you about the mug to prove a point, brat," he said casually as he moved closer. "The point that I kept you around, even though you think you've been ruined, and threw out something I knew was ruined." He stopped just before they could touch, locking their eyes together. Shuichi was entranced by the wild show of emotion behind the usual cold gold, and stunned when a pale hand ghosted up his cheek to wipe away the falling tear. "The point that I … don't think you're ruined."
"But … but what about … the ra… about …" The teen's rambling were cut off by a whisper of lips against his, lips that traveled slowly up his nose to his forehead, where the rested and spoke whispered words.
"You're not ruined." He closed his eyes as the gentle breath caressed his skin, sighing as the lips on his forehead curved into a soft smile. "And you can keep the mug, if you want."
"Promise?" Promise you're not going to throw me out? Promise I'm not … that I can be fixed, Yuki?
"Yeah, brat." I promise. If you really think you're broken, I'll fix you myself. "Just wash it out first. But in the morning. For now, come back to bed."
End
Remember, this ties into the 3rd entry, "Blame". And thank all of you who submitted ideas. Some I can use, others I already have on my list. But I've made it past 50, now, so we're all good to go! Thank you, thank you, thank you. ^.^
Please remember to drop a review and let me know what you thought of this entry! I'll try to have Lyrics updated by tomorrow. :)