The quiet clink of utensils against the plate was the only sound in the dining room. Hibari sat at the table, eating his dinner as if nothing were out of the ordinary. But something was off. He noticed the absence of the bucking horse, whose usual presence was hard to ignore. Maybe he's not hungry Hibari thought. Or busy with some pointless task.
Shrugging off the thought, he continued eating, his expression as composed as ever.
Meanwhile, Dino stood in the shower, the warm water doing little to wash away his frustration. The more he thought about Hibari, the angrier he became. Why doesn't he say anything? Doesn't he care at all? Not even a word about today, not even an acknowledgment. Nothing!
Dino clenched his jaw, his fists pressing against the shower wall. His emotions churned in him—anger, jealousy, confusion. Most of all, he felt helpless, like he was banging on a locked door Hibari refused to open.
When he finally stepped out of the bathroom, towel drying his hair, his anger hadn't subsided. He dressed quickly, ignoring the dinner waiting for him on the table. I can't sit there with him right now, not like this.
As Dino walked down the hallway, he passed the dining room. There was Hibari, seated at the table, calm and unbothered as usual. The sight made Dino's frustration flare again, but he bit down the urge to say something. Too angry to talk. His steps quickened as he moved past his lover without a word, not even sparing him a glance.
Hibari's eyes flicked up briefly as Dino walked by. He didn't stop or say anything. The sound of footsteps faded, and Hibari was left alone at the table. He continued eating but found himself chewing slower.
What's his problem? Hibari thought, narrowing his eyes slightly. It wasn't like Dino to walk past without a casual greeting or even a teasing remark. It was... strange.
His thoughts lingered on Dino's behavior as he finished his meal, the quiet growing heavier around him. Hibari didn't say it aloud, but the unfamiliar tension unsettled him. Did I miss something? Or is Haneuma just being annoyingly dramatic?
Yet, beneath the annoyance, there was a flicker of curiosity—and, though Hibari wouldn't admit it, concern.
--
The house was quiet when Dino returned, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the stillness. He slipped off his shoes and walked into the dimly lit living room, his eyes immediately drawn to the bedroom door. It was slightly ajar, and through the gap, he could see Hibari sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
Dino felt a pang of betrayal. Of course, he's sleeping fine while I'm out here losing my mind. The grocery bag in his hand crinkled as he set it down on the dining table. Inside were snacks he'd picked up—small things he knew Hibari liked. He'd bought them almost instinctively, his irritation momentarily forgotten as he grabbed a familiar package from the shelf.
But now, seeing Hibari like this, his frustration returned tenfold. I'm always the one thinking, worrying, chasing after him... and he sleeps like nothing's wrong. Dino clenched his fists before exhaling heavily.
He didn't bother waking Hibari. Instead, he left the snacks on the table, carefully placing them in a neat pile, as if they were a peace offering he wasn't sure he wanted to give. Then, without a sound, he turned and walked back to the living room.
The sofa creaked as Dino lay down, pulling a blanket over himself. It was uncomfortable, both physically and emotionally. The anger that had been simmering earlier was now replaced by a heavy sadness. Is it always going to be like this? Me giving, him taking, and neither of us meeting in the middle?
He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts swirling. Dino loved Hibari—that was undeniable—but the silence, the lack of acknowledgment, the constant guessing... it felt like he was the only one holding the fragile thread of their relationship. Does he even need me like I need him? Or am I just fooling myself?
As he turned over, pulling the blanket tighter around him, Dino missed the quiet detail waiting for him back at the table.
A mug of hot chocolate, its surface long gone cold, sat beside the snacks he'd brought. The light from the kitchen reflected softly off its surface, a silent, forgotten gesture from Hibari—one Dino would never know.