Missing You
Mar
16
It’s past midnight. Yata can’t sleep. He tosses and turns on the pillow, rolls over, huffs a sigh, trying to ignore the empty space where Saruhiko used to sleep, trying to ignore the quietness in their little place.
Saruhiko has always been quiet, but somehow it never felt like this.
Yata clenches his fists and buries his face in the pillow, trying to ignore the hot, tight feeling in his chest. Saruhiko betrayed them (him), left them (him). He isn’t coming back.
The room is empty of anyone but Yata. There’s no one there to mock or watch him cry.
His mouth went dry, as if he were suddenly parched.
Saruhiko had seen Misaki without his shirts before, had yanked the collar down himself to see what was going on with the mark of Mikoto’s aura, but this was the first time since they’d reconciled that Misaki had tossed off all the layers aimlessly, complaining of summer heat, and padded barefoot into the kitchen to make dinner.
Saruhiko watched as he had always watched his friend, but there was definitely something different than just “summer” heat making him flushed and thirsty.
“What do you want?” Misaki asked.
Saruhiko shrugged. You.