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writetomyheart2019-11-23 06:33 am
thesecretdoor.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2019-11-23 06:33 am
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[team three] hard to let go
This is so totally lame but I ran out of time and did't want to skip again. It's a continuation of a set of drabbles I've been writing here, masterlist can be found here
He finds a figure outside his door when Yamada returns, grocery bag in one hand and a smile already forming on his lips. He parts them, the words ‘You’re early’ on the tip of his tongue when he stops, frozen.
The figure is tall, a little bit too tall, dark hair, pacing agitatedly. He sucks in a long breath, smile falling as he resumes walking, the word “Yuto” coming out instead.
Yuto looks up at him, expression breaking as he takes in Yamada’s appearance – his tight jeans, his good ones, the brimming grocery bag in his hand. “You expecting somebody?” he asks, all air and cracked notes.
Yamada nods, admits “Yeah” and looks at his watch, fifteen minutes.
He’s not quite sure what reaction to expect, he’s seen it all over the years, the distraught tears, the hurtful sneers...he half expects the raging anger that caused him to lash out and hit Masaki weeks ago, triggering this whole thing, whatever it is.
Yuto just nods, a light pause, a slow inhale and then another nod – Yamada can see him trembling – and then he brushes past Yamada to walk away.
“Yuto.” Yamada calls after him, and he can hear the panic in his voice. He should let Yuto go, it’s what he wants, what he’s been trying to do for years, but something about Yuto’s pain resonates so deep inside that it hurts him too.
“I can’t stand it.” Yuto says, pausing barely more than a metre away, voice still quiet, back still turned. “I don’t...I don’t know what to do.” he whispers, voice choking off. “It’s killing me and I don’t know how to fix it...it feels like I can’t breathe.”
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He finds a figure outside his door when Yamada returns, grocery bag in one hand and a smile already forming on his lips. He parts them, the words ‘You’re early’ on the tip of his tongue when he stops, frozen.
The figure is tall, a little bit too tall, dark hair, pacing agitatedly. He sucks in a long breath, smile falling as he resumes walking, the word “Yuto” coming out instead.
Yuto looks up at him, expression breaking as he takes in Yamada’s appearance – his tight jeans, his good ones, the brimming grocery bag in his hand. “You expecting somebody?” he asks, all air and cracked notes.
Yamada nods, admits “Yeah” and looks at his watch, fifteen minutes.
He’s not quite sure what reaction to expect, he’s seen it all over the years, the distraught tears, the hurtful sneers...he half expects the raging anger that caused him to lash out and hit Masaki weeks ago, triggering this whole thing, whatever it is.
Yuto just nods, a light pause, a slow inhale and then another nod – Yamada can see him trembling – and then he brushes past Yamada to walk away.
“Yuto.” Yamada calls after him, and he can hear the panic in his voice. He should let Yuto go, it’s what he wants, what he’s been trying to do for years, but something about Yuto’s pain resonates so deep inside that it hurts him too.
“I can’t stand it.” Yuto says, pausing barely more than a metre away, voice still quiet, back still turned. “I don’t...I don’t know what to do.” he whispers, voice choking off. “It’s killing me and I don’t know how to fix it...it feels like I can’t breathe.”
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dusk037
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