I own nothing!
She missed him.
It was temporary, she knew, but still - she ached. She longed to see him in person, to hear his voice, to feel the warmth of his hand in hers. To laugh with him over silly things their directors had said. To eat dinner with him, and know that he'd had a decent meal. Sure, he sent her videos of him eating, at least twice a day, faithfully… but it wasn't the same.
She tossed and turned in her futon, trying to find a comfortable position. She'd gotten spoiled by his guest bed - and his actual bed, the couple of times she'd dozed off when they were in there. Heck, even his couch - it was an unfairly comfy piece of furniture. And, knowing him, needlessly expensive. She huffed a little laugh at that. He really had no clue how to be thrifty. Even his sweaters were super fancy.
Like the one she was wearing now. He'd worn it for her before he'd gone abroad, so she'd have something that smelled like him. She'd borrowed his sheep pillow and snuggled it at night so he could have the same. And oh had she been flustered when he'd suggested it… but now she was grateful. It wasn't the same as him holding her, but if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine he was near her.
Ting.
Her eyes shot open. She'd left her phone on - and she was so, so glad of that when she opened it and saw a text from him. In-between inscrutable emojis, it read, Hope you had a good day, princess. I love you.
She hugged the phone to her chest, eyes tearing up. How did he know? How did he know that she was missing him?
LINE BREAK
He missed her.
It was what's right for his career, he knew - but it still hurt, not being able to be near her. Not being able to watch her smile light up the room. Not being able to make little jokes, give her little compliments just to watch her blush. Not being able to reach out and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Not being able to bother her when she was cooking under the guise of helping. Not being able to sneak a kiss when washing dishes. He slept with his head on the sheep pillow every night, breathing in her scent, but… it just wasn't enough.
This journey, this trip - it was necessary, he reminded himself. To help him break out from his father's shadow, to retake his name… so he could one day ask her to share it. So he sent her little messages whenever the mood struck (which was often), decorated with the most loving of emojis. This most recent one represented him hugging the sheep pillow. He hoped it came across well.
Ting.
His phone screen and face lit up. She'd texted back, even though it was late in Japan. He read it, careful to keep his face steady - he was waiting for the scene before his to wrap. My day was okay, but is a lot better now that I've heard from you. I love you, too.
She'd attached a picture. God save him, she'd sent him a picture.
He clicked on it, and his face broke completely, leaving behind a pile of mush. The few coworkers who had been holding a torch for him quickly extinguished them at the sight. He didn't notice, too enraptured by the picture.
She was posed in his sweater, blowing him a kiss.
He held his phone close to his chest, pretending just for a moment that the heat of the screen was her palm.
An ocean apart, they came to a silent agreement: In the future, whenever possible, they would travel together.
After all, journeys - like life - are best shared with the ones you love.