Myosotis - Chapter 4 - astral (astreanox) (2024)

Chapter Text

The days were calmer after their talk. It returned to how they were before he brought Roxas and Sora into their apartment and before the midnight lone walks Ventus took. It wasn’t truly ‘normal’, but it was a start. Ventus would greet and talk with him, and he’d do the same. They even cooked dinner together one time and Vanitas only managed to get ticked off thrice. The Ventus from his memories was someone that no longer exists, the loudmouth that was always the center of attention, the boy that would longingly gaze at him when he thought Vanitas didn’t notice. That boy was gone. There was only this Ventus, the calmer, quieter and more radiant Ventus.

He was patient but he stood his ground, he was reasonable but emotional. He didn’t need everyone’s attention to feel validated, he exudes it. The one thing that Ventus from before never had: confidence, a sense of self.

“Ventus, what do you want for breakfast?” He shouts at the locked bathroom door. He hears the shower turn off and a sound of sliding around and yelps. The door opens barely, showing matted wet blonde hair over Ventus’s blue eyes, his pink cheeks rosy with the heat of the shower; Ventus smiles at him with a playful grin. “I can’t read thoughts.”

“Mhm… we do have some bread in the fridge. How about french toast?” He suggests with a tone that Vanitas can’t comprehend enough, but it made him smile back. Ven turns redder and shuts the door on his face. “Uh… Y-yeah…I mean anything is fine! I’ll join you after!”

Vanitas chuckles and yells back, “or I could join you instead?”

He was sure he heard Ven slip from behind the door.

In a way, he figured, he liked teasing Ventus. He never really got to know him past his exterior, but Ventus was someone with bright blinking neon lights that said ‘make fun of me, please’. He gives himself away too much, too often that it becomes a highlight of Vanitas’s day to spend an hour or half of his mornings making Ven flush red and panic over him.

“Vanitas!” Ven yells out with an accompanying groan.

A wide smile plays over his lips. He remembers the words of advice, the continuous reminder that he is… very fond of Ven, and how stubbornly he denied all of it. It was infuriating to be told what to feel, a different kind of psychosis to be told one thing and then feel the another. He doubted everything and doubted all else that could be remotely close to what he felt. Then, one day, Ven stopped talking to him and it seemed like every part of his body cried out. Maybe, Present/Future Vanitas cried out too. Both of them wanted Ventus back, both of them would have done anything to get Ventus to just look at them. It was a shared want, the first time he felt like himself and Present/Future Vanitas were actually the same person.

His memories have slowly returned to him, most of his graduation year and how he, Sora and Roxas figured into their workplace together. Mostly everything in his head had pieced together except for one person. The memory of Fountain Square, of Ventus and his cryptic lonely smile, and the whirlwind of petals that circled him, was still an enigma. It was pinned and possibly engraved to the forefront of his mind. The image won’t leave him and as the only memory of Ventus that he had, a part of him didn't want it to. Although he didn’t understand it’s significance, his heart told him it’s the key to piecing together his most important memory of Ventus.

But every time he tried to peer further in the memory, it would seem as if it’s something he’s imagined, and asking Ventus about it would definitely be a bad idea. They have started discussing his memories, those that came back and those that he’s still missing, but often Ven only obliges if Vanitas was in a good mood. As his mood easily sours whenever he gets combo’ed by consecutive photos he can’t accurately place in his head.

He finishes with the french toast and places them on a plate, dusting them with cinnamon and some syrup. If he was being honest, his sweet tooth was probably well satiated by just the plate of sugar and toast, but something told him to cut up some of the strawberries and toss some fresh blueberries over the plate.

“French toast.” He said and set the plate down in front of Ventus. Ventus eyed him with a look of shock and then calmly took a blueberry and popped it in his mouth. Vanitas didn’t need him to speak to know what had gone on his pretty little head. “Lucky guess. No, I don’t remember that they were your favourites.”

The pout on Ven’s face mirrors a kicked puppy, and keeps it on despite gorging on the sweet breakfast before him, directly under Vanitas’s close scrutiny. It was crazy to think that a couple of months ago, he believed that he couldn’t stand the very person under his gaze; that he’d rather crawl to Sora’s living room and stay there, than be stuck in an apartment with Ventus. He couldn’t say that he felt the same as Present/Future Vanitas, but he felt something… and that was progress.

He takes his fork from the table setting, his plate completely empty and takes a slice of bread from Ven’s. The blonde’s face broke into a whine, his fork shoving away at Vanitas’s, he mumbled ‘get your own’ or groans out Vanitas’s name, or both altogether. While Vanitas had smirked at the response and engaged in a fork-fight for a slice of toast.

Everything had been going well, a calm start to a Monday, and then Ventus actually lost to him at the game of forks. He chucks the slice of victory into his mouth and immediately regrets it.

“Why?! You don't get it! It's not that easy!”

“I never said it was, Ven! I know it's hard, and I would never tell you what to do, but this is for you too.” he fixes his trench coat on, obviously rushed and irritated that they're having this out just before he leaves for work. "You can't stay mad at him forever."

“Ha. So that's what this is all really about, huh, this isn't about me at all is it?! It's about Roxas! It's always about Roxas!” Ven ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at its ends. His cheeks were stained with a trail of tears, his lips bitten with blood. “Did you ever forget about him?”

“Ventus.” He walked closer to Ventus's shaking form and tried pulling him into a hug, but he was pushed away. Vanitas watched in solemn silence while Ven heaved his breaths, breaking his heart every time Ven wiped tears away from his face. He didn't like watching Ven suffer, didn't like being powerless when he does, but he respects the decision he makes. Even stupid ones like this. The only thing he could do is reassure him that whatever he's thinking about, the anxiety he’s drowning in, doesn’t exist.

"Answer me!"

“This isn’t about him.” Vanitas eased his way back to where Ventus stood. He reached out to his elbows, sliding his fingers up to his wet hands, gently taking a hold of both of them. He pulls them to his lips and presses soft kisses over them, Ven's laboured breaths fades out. His tear filled hands cupped Vanitas's face. “I know we both hurt you, I know that it's impossible for you to trust me after everything I did—“

“I knew it. You never forgot, did you?” He says with tears falling down his face. “Why can’t you just… just let him go?”

It was too much to ask, Roxas wasn’t just a person he could erase, being with him… if it can even be called that, brought up a lot on the surface. He can’t just forget him like it never really happened. Him remembering Roxas doesn’t mean he loves Ven any less.

“I can't just forget him, Ven. It doesn’t work like that.”

“You're right, Vanitas. I can't… I can't trust you at all.” Ven hiccups his words, pushing his lament to his only vision, turning away from him. “This was impossible in the first place… you could never… would never…”

“What… I could never what?” He rams his fist to the wall. “Would you stop getting inside your head and tell me!?” Ventus doesn’t move, he doesn’t look up from his view of the floor. This fight has always struck him harder than any fight they would have. It hit closer to where his insecurities laid and Vanitas knew it.

“Just leave. Leave me alone, Vanitas.”

He checks his phone for the time, his screen already displays a number of missed calls and unread messages. The Office was handling a big case today and more of the groundwork was done by him, it was integral that he gets there on time or else they might as well forfeit the trial. Calming Ventus is the most important thing to him, but he’s needed elsewhere too. The choice was obvious, if his decision is the only one to make.

“I would never leave you.” He drops his bag on the floor and reaches out to touch him. ”Listen—”

Ven shakes his head and moves away. “Please. Leave.”

How many times have they fought over the same thing and same person; no matter how many times the past gets thrown about, in the end, both of them would be broken up by it. Vanitas hated leaving that morning. He hated losing to an emotion that had eaten his beloved’s sanity. He hated it more because he’s the one that made it worse. He’s supposed to love Ventus for as long as he can, and as much as he can, and no matter what problems or fights they go through, he would never give up on him. That even as Ventus, himself, begged him to stop loving him, he’d still fight for them.

He should have never left their apartment.

Barely arriving at his parking slot, he shifts the gears back to first and hurries home. The phone rings. It was Sora. He's probably asking why he left so fast. The trial would start in a couple of minutes. Another message. Another call. It was Roxas. Roxas… should he really forget everything about him? He's passing green light after green light. Empty streets and speeding across empty pedestrian lines. It was the last light, before he made the entryway to their apartment. Green. He turns right. Wait, why is there another car on his lane. Slow down, asshole. It’s not your lane—sh*t! sh*tsh*tsh*t. f*ck.

Shouts. Sirens. Darkness.

When Vanitas opened his eyes he was staring into icy blue eyes that bled with worry. Ven’s naturally fair face was blotched pink and red, while trails of tears show on his cheeks. He felt himself carried over Ven’s lap, his arm under and over him into a protective hug. Ven sat on the floor, while he laid over it, his upper body cradled in his arms. He leaned over Ven’s chest, hearing sounds of erratic thundering echo as the progression of how he got on Ven’s lap and on the floor completely flew over his head.

All he remembered was the rawness of the crash. He felt bile rise up from his throat, the sugary sweetness of cinnamon and toast turned sour and acidic. He wretches and pulls himself from the comfort of Ven’s arms, throwing himself up, his hand covering his mouth and the bile building behind his throat. He rushes away, desperately controlling his wobbling steps to get to the sink, and expelling bile from his insides over the stainless basin. Ven follows him from behind, edging close but never touching him.

“Vanitas…” Ven says softly, bracing himself for whatever reaction he would get, and rubs his back in small circular motions. “What happened, is it… your memory?”

He wretches once more, throwing up clear liquid over the sink. He nods his head, “T-The… Crash.” He grips the countertop with his hands and expels more of the clear liquid. “... I remember… the crash—“he wretches some more but nothing comes out. His knees buckled and all that kept him upright was his locked arms. It wasn’t long until his grip slipped and he fell to the linoleum kitchen floor.

Everything around him was spinning, like reverse vertigo, his view doubled while his head throbs with every beat of his erratic heart. He feels around to his side, his palm touching the cold floor. The cold hard floor kept him from floating. Then again, only half his body felt the ruler straight floor, his head down to his torso was, again, cushioned by Ven’s lap. For a second time that morning, he’s opened his eyes and saw worried blue eyes accompanied with a frown.

“... I’m alright.” Vanitas whispers through the scratchy feeling over his throat.“... It’s just... the first time it came back to me.”

Ven sighed in relief and pushed his stray black hairs away from his sweat-covered face. He smiles sadly, his blue eyes conflicted with grief and guilt. “I know we said that we have to be able to talk about things, especially about your memories returning, but… you don’t have to try so hard. I know that I… I’ve been pushy about it, but I never meant for it to hurt you like this.”

He could have said the same thing. “... Same to you.”

“I’m not as stubborn as you.” The corners of Ven’s mouth twitched upward.

“... I know.” He chuckles weakly. “You’re much worse.”

Ven goes back to combing his black hair away from his face. While Vanitas laid in silence, processing the memories he remembered moments before the crash: the fight that left him bothered enough to rush back home and the reason for that same fight. He regretted letting Ven push him away, he never should have left. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have gotten into that accident; Present/Future Vanitas wouldn’t have disappeared, and Ven wouldn’t be… broken like this.

All he wanted was an uneventful Monday but apparently his memories had other plans. Although, one thing has been made sure, Roxas was somebody of his past and a cause of Ven’s insecurity. He wanted to know, he needed to know. But… every time Roxas’s name comes up in his head, a terrible sensation runs through his nerves. As if his body and blood had memories of their own connected to him; and, then, there’s how Ven’s face would fall at the mention of Roxas’s name. Was he ready to talk about it, would he be cheating his recovery, if he did?

“We fought that morning.” Ven starts and rhythmically runs his fingers through black hair. “It’s something stupid, it was so small… compared to what happened. I was forcing you to do something you didn’t want, and you were asking me to do something I didn’t want. It was a crazy misunderstanding.”

He sniffs and works his words through his sobs. “It’s a stupid fight.”

Vanitas found himself sitting up, pulling himself to the space beside Ven. He leans over, nudging the sniffling blonde with his shoulder. Ven shakes his head and pinches his cheeks to stop himself from crying.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you away. If only I’d known… and now…” Ven’s lips quivered, his eyes apologetic as they gleam with unshed tears. “Sorry. This is all my fault.”

“You shouldn’t.” Vanitas repeats, his voice low and calm. He wasn’t mad, he didn’t feel anything but a strange pang in his chest that reverberated throughout his body. He never liked how Ven blamed himself, it wasn’t his choice to make; it was himself that chose to be late and, again, chose to go back home. Whatever happened that day, if anyone was at fault, it would be that bastard counterflowing kid.

“And then… You came home and all I worried about was myself. If you’d still love me… if you’d remember—I forgot how terrible it must be for you, how painful the accident must have been! Dammit, I’m so sorry Van!”

At the corner of his mind, an invisible voice yells. It yells and urges him to move, to lift his hand and cup Ven’s pink cheeks. It demanded him to stop him from crying. Was it because in some plane where Present/Future Vanitas exists, Ven crying was an absolute crime and Teenage Vanitas has sat there stupidly unable to do anything to make him stop.

And, just as the voice urged, he lifts his hand and gently wipes away the tears from Ven’s face. “Stop. Don’t blame yourself. I’m alright, the accident happened, it’s nothing we could change.” He fights Ven’s reflex to look down and lifts his face by his chin to look him in the eye. He kept his hand over his face, the feeling of touching him without a shake or resistance was short of magical. He’d always felt that Ven was too nervous around him, too guarded, but as they are now, with his warm cheeks and red bitten lips. It was nice. “But I’m still here, I’m okay… So… Don't…”

Ven stares at him and bites his lower lip. “W-What are you doing?”

He paused, catching himself leaning forward, closing their gap to a single inch. What the heck was he doing? He pulls away, sticking his arms beside him, his face flushed.

“Were you… are you going to kiss me?”

Yes.

“No. Uh… don’t you want me to?” His nervous tick of scratching the back of his head appears. Ven co*cks his head to the side in disbelief, he glares at Vanitas like he’s opened a wound that would never ever heal. “Isn’t this something I would have done… something I’m supposed to do?”

Ven scoffs his mouth set to a frown. “Supposed to do? You think… you should kiss me because it's what you’re supposed to do?” He shakes his head, frustrated. He stands up and balls his hands to a fist. “Not like this Vanitas.”

He got up on his feet too, equally angered. “I was just trying to make you feel better for f*ck’s sake! Every little thing has to be so f*cking complicated with you!”

Why did he have to say that, they were getting along fine! It was all going so great and then he had to open his mouth and ruin everything. Then again, he wasn’t the one being frustrating! He was doing his part, didn’t Ven want to kiss him; didn’t he miss being in his arms; didn’t he miss being with his 'boyfriend' Vanitas? He promised he’d try harder, isn’t he doing what he just said by reacting however he thinks Present/Future Vanitas would?

“I… I don’t want you like this.” Ven says, weakly. He shifts his weight around his feet and frowns. “If you don’t mean your affections, then I don’t want it.”

He grits his teeth and growls. “Fine! I don’t want to give you affection anyway!”

The words fall out of him without control, like a force he couldn’t contend with. Immediately as Ven flinches at his volume, at the hurtful words he’s thrown, he felt like kicking himself to the afterlife. He’s gotten back bits and pieces, taken in some absent memories into analytical consideration of could-have-beens, yet there’s only so much he could get by when it involves himself and Ven. Although, it didn’t require him to remember to know how awful it must have been for Ven to hear those words from the person that was supposed to be in love with him. How difficult it must be to have to see the face of someone he’s longed to kiss and smother with affection and be confused when it speaks up with a stranger’s voice.

Ven takes one long look at him, despondent as he goes back inside the bedroom.

It feels as though they’re going in circles. Every bit of progress they’ve made, every little piece of repose they found after the accident and the amnesia was short lived. It was one step forward and a huge jump back. If this was how they’re going to be, how they talked things out—shouting and walking out on each other—it was a miracle that they’ve stayed together for so long. At least, back in their teenage years, the lines were clear. He didn’t have to guess and act like he should or shouldn’t be in love with Ven. It was simple: Vanitas didn’t like Ven, and Ven would be his annoyingly loud self, easy to hate and easy to forget. But now, Ven was different, the air about him was different. He was quieter and more introverted, he felt things strongly from the inside and he never boasts unnecessarily. How could he be so different from the Ventus he remembered?

Perhaps, Ven wasn’t the only one different. He, too, had changed. He’s heard it a thousand times, he’s changed and has been in love with Ven for years. He’s supposed to be in love with him.

In undying frustration, Vanitas groaned out and took his keys with him. He’s going to fill in the blanks of his memory, muscle memory be damned. In the recesses of his consciousness, he hears an echo of his thought, a cursed continuation to his driving force: before I lose him all over again.

He met Sora in their college years. It was a shock to have met someone so detached from the world, yet so involved with everyone else. He’s talented and extremely perceptive, but chooses to hide behind a goofy laidback appearance. While he was the kind of person that looked on and never joined in, he wasn’t easily impressed with Sora like the rest of the student body, he had his own world and with it, his own perspectives. One that Sora desperately needed. Sora was a star and a model student from the first time he entered campus, everything was given to him like a golden child. So when he, someone from the outside that didn’t care about him and his reputation, appeared and showed him how far he’d lost his way, they became instant friends.

Sora opens the front door. He looked as normal as he would, clad in his typical tank top and a jacket. There was no reason for both of them to dress up for work, it was a day after they won their first big case, they’re literally allowed to skip work. He stares quizzically over at Sora’s outfit and pushes the door to open wider.

“Going somewhere?”

Sora shook his head and yawned. “I just got back. I had to take Rox down to the airport. It’s his flight to Twilight Town today…—”he inspects him, covered in his pajama pants and over his old black undershirt. “Did you forget where you live; it’s five floors down, dude.”

Vanitas rolled his eyes and shrugged. “Are you done?”

On a regular basis, he would have engaged and said his piece of snarky comment to counter Sora, but something had happened and he'd reached his breaking point. He wasn’t in the mood to play around. He’s been sitting on his ass doing nothing, waiting for his memories to come back like a good boy, but whoever said he’s anywhere near being ‘good’ probably met him wrong. Quite frankly, being good has given him nothing but agony befuddled into a clusterf*cked timeline and he's had enough of it.

“Pretty much.” Sora walks inside and heads to the balcony. He takes out an ashtray and puts it on the floor and sits down himself. Vanitas sits next to him, the ashtray in the middle, he glances at Sora with an expectant look and sees him take out a pack and place it in the middle of them.

I’m not supposed to.

“Exceptions.” He said lighting his stick. “So. What happened?”

Vanitas had stared at the inside of the apartment, through the same look and same division of the room. It was almost the same concept as his and Ventus’s place, though the decor was different. The living room was filled with gaming consoles, a couch and a couple of frames that have the same group photo they had. There was an island-like touch around them, mixed in with some modern spices. There was no doubt in his mind who lived there, or who would possibly come out of the bedroom.

“I remembered something before the crash.” Vanitas rests his head on the railing. “Ventus and I were in a fight… about Roxas.”

They knew he was going to come up. Roxas. It was one of those inevitable obstacles that would rear its head, whenever their past would be in question. Sora never liked the topic, it was too much pain to remember. Too many mistakes were made, and even after he ended up with Roxas, it was a part of their story that they both hate to acknowledge. Evidently, that past also haunted the two others affected by the mess they’re all entangled in.

“Man, those two… I wonder when they're ever going to let it go.” He takes a deep breath and frowns. “You probably guessed, but we don’t like talking about this either.”

Vanitas takes a stick from the pack, rolling it between his fingers. “ Those two ?”

“Yeah. Ven and Roxas,” He sighs deeply and turns to him. “They never got along, not back then and not now.”

He didn’t need Sora to figure that out. The small bits he had verged into that inevitable direction. It was the ‘why’ of the matter that he didn’t know. Of course, Sora would know about it, he and Roxas live together, they must’ve told each other everything. Then, it begs the question, did Ven tell him about his indelible hateful relationship with Roxas too?

“I think Ven might’ve told you before, but they’re only related through the same father. Roxas grew up in Twilight Town, and Ven grew up in Daybreak Town with his mother. They never knew each other until one day they did.”

Maybe Sora wasn’t the right person to talk about something as personal as the past of the two blondes, he wasn’t one that would get sucked into important details. He’d glossed over them because anyone as amicable as he is, wouldn’t really care about the past of his friends. It’s one of the reasons they got along, one of the saving graces of Sora’s personality, but right now, he needed more detail than ‘one day they did’. He resisted the urge to jab his face in and raised his brow at Sora to signify his interest.

Sora stares at his reflection on the glass sliding door. His consciousness far away from the balcony they sat in. It was rare to see the brunet serious, even more rare to see him speechless, but it only goes to show how deep and significant their topic is. Whatever Roxas and Ven went through, in their childhood or after that, it was all connected. Even after they’ve each settled down, Ven carried their shared past like a deadweight, and though Roxas may not act the same, he carried it as well.

No, not only the two of them, but Sora and himself as well. Although, something inside him is telling him that he’s dealt with the burnt of the matter, he’s not about to consider some phantom voice when his memory is still f*cked. Sora and Roxas may have their own demons that spawned from the same cause, it still differs from him and Ven's.

“Ven… Hmm.” Sora pauses and smiles apologetically. “Maybe you should ask him yourself.”

He scoffs and nods. “Figures that you're clueless about this.”

“I just know where and when to stick my head out of trouble. You never learned that, did you?” He wiggles his brow and returns the scoff. “You should have brought beer, man.” Sora sighs and looks back into the inside of his apartment. There was a sadness in his demeanor, an empathy for the experience he’s yet to say. “Roxas… Uh, he’s a complicated guy, he’s a little bit like you, Van. I guess it’s why you two hit it off when you guys met.”

That. He remembers that part all too well, he wished he didn’t. If he could swap it for a memory of being with Ven, he would, but it was like his head knew where teenage Vanitas’s interest would lie. There was a certain darkness in Roxas that he knew he confided in because none of his other friends had it.

Without memory.

Without a clue or inkling.

He’d always know Roxas.

He puts a glass of golden liquid and ice next to him. He takes a gulp of the same drink in his hand. He was a broke ass college student, but Roxas’s parent’s were loaded. Hence, the blonde always had access to the best kind of alcohol out there: scotch. Acquired taste, but once it sets in, not even the coldest beer would suffice.

“Roxas.” He repeats and sits on the free side of the bed.

Roxas was curled up to the side of his bed. His head tucked under a pillow, his arms and legs hugging the same pillow that covered his face. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, until he feels his bed dip when Vanitas sits on the space by his feet. He scoots up to the headboard and sits up, leaning his back on the headboard.

“Vanitas.” Roxas said to the ceiling. “Why is it always you…”

He lived outside of the dorms and Vanitas relished having the chance to get out of student body crowding and housing. Perhaps it was more than the escape, but the person that called him in the middle of the night. It was strange, he had to admit, to receive calls from someone he barely met asking if he could come over and have a drink, but scotch is nice, and Roxas’s company is… it’s not atrocious. He’s tolerable.

He guesses he’s just the same. He’s tolerable to Roxas too.

“Then call ‘him’.” He takes a sip of the liquid and swishes it around his glass, leaning back over the comforts of the bed. “C’mon, Roxas, you know ‘he’ would come running if you called.”

“And let him see how pathetic I am?” Roxas laughs bitterly, reaching a lazy hand over the set glass for him. “No thanks. Sora… Sora can’t see this side of me.”

He co*cks a finger at him, a smug look on his face. “That’s why it’s always me.”

That was how it started. How he fooled his mind that all the time they spent together, beneath the quiet of the night, lighted by stars and the impending dawn, was nothing but his tolerance for a stranger. For a lost soul looking for comfort, for the solace he’s too scared to reach. Roxas worried too much about his image, about how Sora would look at him if he found out how f*cked up he is, how scared he is to say what he really wants.

“Shut up.” Roxas kicks his side, lightly. A friendly response to answer a question that never needed one. “So… did you see?”

Vanitas clicks his tongue and sneers. “You mean that tall, lanky, green eyes that I passed before getting here, couldn’t miss him if I tried.”

He gets kicked again.

“What, no words? No ‘you’re an asshole’ or ‘jerk’, nothing like that for me tonight?” Dementedly, he laughs into the silence and ignores Roxas’s piercing glare. The anger in it is less prominent than the other dark emotion that he’s familiar with seeing. “He didn’t know how to please you, huh?”

“Tch. I’m fine.” Roxas answers clipped, turning his head to the side. He folds his arms over his chest and keeps his sight on the empty glass. “Don’t tell Sora.”

He sighs aloud, sitting up and turning his full attention to him. “It’s not like he’d have a right to get angry about you sleeping around. You two aren’t together.”

Roxas was still adamant that he's 'fine'. He drew up his legs to him, retracting as Vanitas inches forward, filling the space they had between them. He laughs at the way Roxas kept his frown on his face, as if it would hide how his body resonated just being near him. He reaches up with his fingers, titling his averted eyes back to him. He's much closer than before, his chest pressed heavily against his drawn legs, his hold over him hard enough that he wouldn't be able to break away unless he wanted to.

“I wouldn’t say a word, it’s not my business who you sleep with, but at least have some standards.”

“Pfft. You mean you?” Roxas said, snarky. He chuckles at the way Vanitas wiggled his eyebrow and shakes his head. “That was a mistake… and you know it!”

“Oh. Did I?” He mocks with a roll of his eyes, slipping his free hand in between the propped up legs in front of him, pushing them apart despite the blanket that covered them. Roxas doesn’t fight and lets him guide his leg off the bed, pulling off the blanket that separates them. Vanitas takes the signal and allows his knee to inch up closer to him, as he pulls him forward by his chin. He clicks his tongue and leans in close, whispering to his ear: “Never thought it was.”

He cages Roxas to the headboard, holding his wrists on top of each other with one hand over his head, his knee planted directly by his groin, Roxas’s half-hard co*ck pressing against the ripped fabric of his jeans. He hasn’t even done anything and Roxas was already responding so well to him. It makes the smirk on his face grow wide, even if Roxas was determined to keep a straight face, everything from his sensitive co*ck, his excited breath and flushed cheeks were more than enough to give away what he really wanted.

“Did he know… where to touch you?” Vanitas says as he trails down light kisses down his exposed neck. He licks a strip just beneath his ear, sucking at the spot in a teasingly slow pace. Roxas bucks forward, his restrained hands fighting Vanitas’s grip. “... No?”

“...A-Asshole.” He spits out, stifling his ragged breath by biting his lips. Vanitas would have stopped, if Roxas asked. The thing is, f*cking Roxas isn’t as simple as it should be; it’s not direct and worded, he’s the kind that wanted to respond to a pace set by other. He hooks his leg around Vanitas’s thigh, pulling him closer to him, setting a slight friction of pressure over his co*ck, slipping himself lower and under Vanitas’s propped up arms and legs.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

Vanitas chuckles at the eagerness, letting his hands free to hang loosely over his shoulders. He pressed their foreheads together, his clothed chest soaking up the cold sweat over the other’s exposed chest. Roxas lifts his head from the mattress, his arms hung around his neck as he pulls him down to him. Vanitas keeps his knees up, locking Roxas’s thighs from closing, his own co*ck aching at being restrained by his pants.

He feels the hands over his shoulder move, trailing down his chest, past its edges. Roxas fumbles with the button, but once he’d unlatched it, he pulls down the zipper with ease. He works down the pants and boxers off, while Vanitas watches him, amused at how needy Roxas looks while undressing him.

“Off.” He demands with a growl. “Take it off!!”

“Hmmm… You’re doing just fine.” Vanitas responds playfully, sucking and kissing at his exposed neck down to his prominent collar bones. He hears Roxas mewl at his kisses, his frantic hands gripping around his chest and arms, completely lost on where to hold on. Vanitas presses his knee over his hardening dick, simulating a slow and forceful thrust down his co*ck.

Roxas moans out, his hand reaching down to stroke himself, unable to take the lack of warmth over his throbbing co*ck. Vanitas grabs his hand and locks it beside his head, under his grasp. He smirks at Roxas’s red face, his disgruntled want pressed against his thigh, goading to be noticed.

“f*ck… f*ck, if you’re not going to—“His rant unceremoniously cut by a strong tug over his co*ck. Vanitas lowers himself, pressing a trail of kisses and licks down his creamy skin. His lips settling over his nipple, his tongue flicking over it until it hardens, grazing the edges of his teeth around the hard button.

He throws his head back, his chest lifting up as his body arcs up. His hips thrusting helplessly at Vanitas’s loose hold over his hardness. His only free hand lands over Vanita’s face, the sensation building up on his stomach, making him pull at his black hair as he shuts his eyes and moans into the dark room. “Oh god… sh*t… f*ck me, Sora… Please!”

The name doesn’t faze Vanitas. It was as if he was expecting it. He lets Roxas pleasure himself, riding his unmoving hand by his own thrusts, before meeting the furious pace Roxas’s thrusts started with his hand. He pumps along with each moan, and puff of air, slowly pulling himself up to sitting to witness Roxas thrash around before going incredibly still. He pumps harder, more intently then before and two or three tugs, white hot liquid drips over his hand that continued its motion in a merciless pace that made Roxas sob in ecstasy to stop.

“Sora! So… ra… Sora, please!” Roxas screams, his hands fumbling over his discarded blankets and the mattress under him. “Sora. f*ck m-me… I’m…”

He rides his high, his entire body convulsing, his co*ck still leaking with the same dewy cum, Vanitas pulls him by his ass, putting the limp arms over his shoulders. In the midst of Roxas’s deadweight over him, he manages to pull a rubber he expected to use and covers himself before Roxas could whine. He lines himself over Roxas’s throbbing entrance. His hole still freshly stretched from the man that was here before him, though the red-head may not have the same girth or length that he has, at the very least he’s stretched Roxas’s tight hole enough. He’d give the second-rate f*ck buddy credit.

He grips Roxas’s waist, his fingers digging into his soft skin and the cheeks of his ass and pushes him down his erect co*ck, hearing Roxas whimper as he takes the full length in. The limp arms around him shifts, his hands grasping desperately at his back for some form of stability. Vanitas leans back, guiding his hips in a down and up motion, while Roxas bites his shoulder in an attempt to stifle his screams. He writhed against him, every thrust that Vanitas does hits that sweet bundle of muscle in an abusive pace. Roxas gasps, his nails digging into flesh, his legs hugging Vanitas’s waist in one final attempt to ride out another mind blowing org*sm.

“I’m not done.” Vanitas says, voice devoid of emotion. While Roxas has slumped over him, his breathing too erratic, and his control over himself barely there. He feels Roxas shake his head, lifting himself off of Vanitas; he moves himself away and pushes Vanitas down with his shaking hand.

“Let me…” Roxas says, sliding the tips of his fingers down to Vanitas’s still hard co*ck, rolling the rubber off and throwing it to the side. He lowered himself down and started by sucking on the tip of his co*ck. Lolling his tongue over the head, tasting the bitterness of his cum as he slides the tip of his co*ck’s opening. Vanitas puts his hand over his head, pushing him to go deeper, while he enjoys the view of Roxas going down on him completely bare.

It wasn’t long until Vanitas’s impatience took the lead, he grips Roxas’s blonde locks and paces him to get used to his length quickly, pushing him down that Roxas initially chokes. But after a few more thrusts, Roxas was able to take his full-length in a satisfying pace, that each sucking motion made him grip at the mattress under him. Roxas notices and pulls away and then quickly swallows his length with one throaty gulp, the pressure enough to make him blow his load into his warm mouth. Which Roxas takes, the cum dripping from his lips, down to his neck, before collapsing in fatigue over Vanitas.

Vanitas moans at the sight, taking a discarded blanket to wipe the drips of cum and saliva over his groin area. Between the two of them, he’s obviously the one that’s expected to clean up. Roxas was passed out on top of him, and he, himself, was still more or less clothed. He pushes the weight off of him and rolls off the bed, pulling the boxers up and zipping his pants on. He picks up Roxas into his arms and lays him back down where he originally laid, pulling the blankets back on the bed and using the cleaner side to cover him.

He was about to leave, only to be stopped by a tug on his shirt. “...Vanitas.”

It was all he could mumble, falling in and out of consciousness.

How unfair could he get, just how much more of this could he take…? The sight of him, his blonde hair more messy than normal, his face, expressionless. The hand that tugged on his shirt still hung out of the bed, reaching for him to do exactly what he always wanted to do.

Stay.

“I’ll get you water.”

It was one of the better nights, at least Roxas speaks to him—him, Vanitas, and not just a space filler for Sora. There were nights when he’d come by this room, a string of boys and girls coming out of the same. At first it was a shock, but then he’d fall into his same routine of getting both of them a glass of the good bottle of alcohol and setting it over to where Roxas was.

Those nights, the bad nights, neither of them would talk. They’d be in each other’s presence but nothing else. Roxas would cry into his arms and knees, he’d cry until he’d fall asleep. While Vanitas didn’t mind the silence, nor didn’t mind the echoing sobs and the wall put up between them. It was just how they worked. He had never cried in his life, as hard as it was, it felt as if his body rejected it. In a way, hearing Roxas cry was soothing. At least he could cry for the both of them, for the times that life was too hard, when they come across rigged failures, or for simply never being enough. Roxas would cry for every little imperfection they both couldn’t shake because they were born with it.

The one flaw in their lives. The one fear that could crumble any tough armor they wear. The curse of being abandoned and the crippling dread of rejection. If he was to take only his life, his fears, and the most immediate one would be… his feelings for him .

When Roxas woke up, Vanitas was sitting beside him on the bed. Busy with his phone, reading his notes for his classes a couple of hours later. He sees him reach for the water he set there a couple of hours ago, and watched him pull himself up, his regular expression back on his face.

“It sucked that you called me ‘Sora’ the entire time.”

“Where is this coming from?” He groans, completely livid. “You said it was fine.”

He repeats in genuine wonder. “Did you really think it was?”

Roxas scoffs, almost weirded out about the insinuation. “Vanitas—“

“Did you really think I was fine filling for Sora?”

“... That’s what you said—“

“Why is it always me, Roxas?”

…

“Why… why do you let me see this side of you; the part you’re so f*cking afraid to show someone you say you ‘love’ but are so afraid of feeling for!”

...

“Did you regret me?” It was all he could say, all his words would let him say. Roxas wouldn’t answer him, and by the looks of the way he ignored everything he said… It’s going to be the same sh*t as from the first time they f*cked. Roxas would run away. He gripped his hands to a fist, waiting for something… anything at all.

Roxas turns away. “This is a mistake.”

They’ve done it many times before, but he’s only opened the topic once and Roxas nearly shut him out because of it. He still remembered Roxas’s face when he woke that morning, and searched for the label to call them; anxiety flicked at every corner of his human existence as he ran away from Vanitas as fast as he could. As if the entire night they spent together was wrong. He ran away and all Vanitas could do was stare. It wasn’t a night of confessions and mutual feelings, it was a night of confusing lust and clawing frustration. Roxas had been driven mad by the feelings he’s too scared to say, while Vanitas was all too willing to give him the comfort that he needed. All for a chance of maybe… maybe changing his mind. It had been a set up for disaster from the start, but it doesn’t mean everything about it was, as Roxas said, ‘a mistake’.

In his head, he tells himself that he’s only doing this because Roxas was his way of vicariously letting out the emotions he has shut out. He wants to believe that there’s nothing that Roxas could do to hurt him, but his heart knew better. It hurts to wait, to stand still and hold himself back from kissing those lips that trembled in his view.

“Was I… really… just a mistake…?”

If anyone had asked him about that one night, Vanitas would have said that he wanted a do-over, he wanted to feel his lips again, he wanted to touch his skin and make him moan out his name. He wanted to burn the way Roxas would writhe and curse when he plunged into him. He wanted him, he wanted him too much to keep himself waiting for an answer he’d never get. He never pushed too far, he knew his limits, but he never pushed for a kiss again—kisses over his neck and elsewhere over his body were fine, but Roxas wouldn’t let him be kissed on the lips again.

“Vanitas—“He feels a hand on his chest, a push away. “Stop it.”

He knew it would have happened, it’s why he hesitated talking about it; they’ve fallen into a pattern of sleeping around, being there for each other and all that’s left for them was to acknowledge what it is that’s between them. Although, deep down, Vanitas knew that he was alone in it, that his feelings were something he felt by himself only.

All those nights before, those late night calls that he’d answered and heard nothing across the line; all those liquor and smoke they burned; and the mere seconds before down that Roxas let his guard down for him, and just for him, they were gone. The night was different, it felt different and having Roxas push him away with clarity in his eyes and strength in the space between them, he knew that whatever it is they had is over.

He takes a deep breath and props his hands on the bed, leaning back to look up at the dark ceiling. What exactly did he think would happen, did he think that he could make him forget about Sora and prefer him instead? Did he really think he measured up to someone like Sora? He lets out a chuckle despite the sudden spike of pain over his chest.

“Made up your mind?” He says with a bored tone.

“I don’t know.” Roxas answers with a shrug. He reaches down to the side of his bed, pulling a hoodie from the floor and wearing it. “I just know that we can’t do this anymore.”

Bitterly, he laughs out loud. As if laughing was the only thing that he could do that’s acceptable. Roxas stared at him with eyes that didn’t show pity or remorse. There was sadness in them, but he didn’t say anything to the effect, much to Vanitas’s relief.

“You did.” He concludes for him, “You always knew who you wanted. All you ever saw was him. I can’t blame you, next to that guy… everyone else is a shadow.”

“It’s…” Roxas was desperate to push back, and prove that he wasn’t as head over heels as he made it seem, but nothing came out. His resignation was Vanitas’s signal that he’s right and there was nothing more to add. He could have let it go, could’ve stopped where they were. In the moment of conclusions, or endings and finding the answers they needed; he should have stopped here.

Instead.

“If you met me before Sora, do you think you’d like me more?”

Roxas slips off the bed, his hoodie barely covering the rest of him. It was obvious he didn’t want to deal with any more questions. Vanitas pushed too much, the silence was understandable. Even if he asked the question, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know the answer. Under the dim lighting of the room, he could see Roxas still at the edge of the bathroom door, his hand over the handle, the sliver of light from inside dashed his shadow across the room.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers to.” He says before entering the bathroom and turning on the shower. The patter of water echoes around the dark bedroom, the light from under the bathroom door bright enough to cast the stars in the sky back to nothing. Roxas didn’t want him there, not anymore, not after what had happened; he knew when he’s no longer wanted.

In a defeated stupor, he sighed and took his leave. He takes one last look of the bed, the mess of shirts and sweaters on the floor, the half open window and drawn curtains; one last look before he leaves for good. For good, he repeats in his head, for a person like him that had to strive for everything he had, scour every opportunity and chance, being shown to the door—being pushed to leave—should have made him fight harder, but what was the point of fighting for someone that didn’t want you— never wanted you at all?

The moment he shuts the door of the bedroom, his phone vibrates with a message alert from Roxas:

‘Sorry.’

——————

The sky was grey with glum mode, the clouds huddled in their darker sky pockets, shielding the rest of the campus from any sight of blue for days. Autumn in Radiant Gardens was the bleakest season, it was the start of the another semester, and mostly, it means recitals for those that partake in music, theatre and arts. The Arts Department would always schedule must-see events and their recitals were legendary. It would always be full of students, talent scouts and stage-directors in the middle of casting alike.

It was the only reason that students would trudge their way into campus and sit along the first few hours of a class, or… perhaps skip it altogether and wait out at the Marketplace like Vanitas.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Xion runs up from the Housing District, her arm waving high above her as she runs with her shoulder bag strapped over the other side. She wore her usual black crop top and black plaid skirt, the only item she wore that had color is the thalassa shell pendant on her neck.

She stops next to him, her hand clutching his shoulder, panting for breath. He leans lower, unnoticed, letting her catch her bearings with one seismic ‘ha!’. He hides the smile on his face and shrugs off the hand still resting on him.

“Been waiting long?” She asks, flushed and a little unnerved by her own punctuality. “Oh, wait. Where’s Ven?”

He rolls his eyes, a genuine smile on his lips. “Guess who slept in?”

“Oo~oh. Did you lovebirds have a busy night?”

Immediately, he yanks her arm to the side, his amber eyes wide in panic as he scans the area for familiar faces or eyes that bore intrigue. Thankfully, there was none. Xion has all but appeared for a minute and his entire existence is jumpy with anxiety. Shouldn’t she be the one in the constant state of panic, she’s the one that goes on stage in a couple of hours!

“Listen here, brat. You don’t ask that.” He reprimands, brows knit together in frustration. “Shouldn’t you be at the Recital Hall, why are you even here?”

“Relax, Van! I’m good, besides! Ven promised ice cream!” Her mythical puppy dog eyes fluttering in heavy suggestion. “But… he’s not here yet… so…” she resorts to pouting, twiddling her fingers along with those blinking amethyst eyes.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, his frustration still evident on his face. After nearly causing his heart to jump out his throat, this brat is extorting him for ice cream. “Seriously, what are you, five?”

“I’ll have you know, Ven and I are six and a half!” She declares with a happy giggle.

She got that right. Ven acts like a kid too, it’s probably why the both of them became fast friends despite being in vastly different courses. Then again, it is Ven, he could make friends with the most aloof, distant and cold person in the world. The corners of his lips etch up just thinking of him, it was a wonder how he got from being unable to tolerate Ven to counting the seconds until they’re together.

It was a huge change. A welcomed change and one he never saw coming.

“Fine. I’ll get you brats ice cream.”

He slings an arm over her shoulders, making her peer up at him with a perplexed look. He smirks, dragging her under his arm, headed to the direction of the ice cream store. He had some money to spare, Ven wasn’t the kind of person that liked expensive places, nor did he like being bought gifts. They weren’t together, they were… just ‘friends’ but he hoped he could change that label by the end of the night.

“Seriously?! You’re so cool Vanitas!” She yells out in excitement. “Can I get two?”

“No.” He answers with a light hit on her head. “Just one, you like Sea-Salt, right?”

She blows her cheeks up and whines. “If Ven was here he’d buy me two.”

“Well, he isn’t.” He opens the door to the store and lets both of them inside. Xion follows him close behind, a huge pout on her lips, arms crossed over her chest. She really is a damn toddler, he takes another breath and checks his phone. He sees a cascade of messages from the slept-in toddler exclaiming time frames, stating ETAs and a string of apologies.

He was about to reply to the message, when he noticed Xion grinning at him like he’s been caught red-handed, the evidence was on his face: the flushed cheeks, the cheeky look of pure and unadulterated fondness. He couldn’t have given himself away anymore, if he tried.

“At least you’re honest with your feelings now.” Her tone dips low, into the voice she uses when she wants to be serious. The teasing grin fades from her face, replaced by worried grimace. “It’s like the Universe marked it out, you two should be together, but both of you have such suckish timing!”

He shrugs and ruffles her head. “Do we?” He says with a half-smile, using Xion’s smaller height to his advantage, making her into his moving armrest.

“Yeah! Especially you!” His armrest pipes out with a spiteful groan. “I’m taking the chance on believing you, and… I’m doing it for Ven. Just do me one favor, Van. Don’t ever hurt him again.”

“I don’t intend to hurt him at all. I made a mistake before, Xion, and I’ve been making it up to him ever since.” He knew that there’s no amount of apologies, no gifts or favors that would be enough to make up for what he did. Maybe even this time, these moments he spends with Ven were borrowed time. He knew that he had a wall before him, a barrier of distrust he sowed as consequence for his mistake. “I just want to be next to him, as much as I can, for as long as he’d allow me to.”

Ventus didn’t have to let him stay, he didn’t have to listen to his explanations. He didn’t have to accept him, didn’t have to forgive him at all, but he did and it was like a weight off his shoulders and at the same time a weight that dragged him down to the deepest parts of hell. It suit him right,to be on the verge of happiness but never being able to reach it. Sardonic as it was, he’d take every little thing he could, even if ‘friends’ is all that Ven sees them as.

She takes a deep breath and entwines her fingers together. She played her own part in hurting one of her best friends, and it was obvious that it bothered him too. Just not as much as it did with him. She takes another breath, shakier than the last, and stares at him with watery eyes. “I'm on your side, Vanitas.“

“Hi! What can I get you guys today?” The cheery cashier pipes in.

Taking the chance to change the subject, he answers swiftly: “Sea-Salt. Darkside and Stracciatella,” and pulled out a bill from his wallet and placed it on the counter.

On his side, he sees Xion pout at him. The cashier’s eyes glance over at her but doesn’t say much aside from her usual spiel and gives back the change. He mouths to her a quiet ‘thanks’ and turns away. It was good timing for both of them, the intrusion made Xion sniffle back up her oncoming tears, putting her back to her ice-cream-excited mood, and he personally doesn’t want to get into it. Whether he wants to rehash how much of an asshole he was, or the fact that he’s deathly nervous of how this ‘date’ would result, it was a good call for ice cream.

Xion found them a spot next to the windows, he wouldn’t usually sit where people would see him, but she made a point about being easier to find since Ven is probably running around the campus trying to find them. Both of them sent him a message on where they were waiting, but Ven has a tendency to get lost or sidetracked with people he meets along the way. Mostly, out of his own doing, but sometimes it was done to avoid someone he preferred not to see. A trick he did to him once, or thrice before, when they weren’t on speaking terms.

He’s not doing that now, of course; he’s the one that said he’s watching Xion’s recital! He may have pestered Ven to let him go with him, but he still said ‘yes’. He pulls out his phone and stares into the contact page of Ven, contemplating on hitting the ‘call’ or the ‘message’ prompt. His phone had been quiet after the barrage of messages, and Ven did sound like he was sincerely apologetic for sleeping in… so why was he so worried?

“Call him.” Xion says while taking a huge spoonful of ice cream to her lips.

"No!" He scoffs. “Why don’t you call him?”

“I’m busy.” She uses her spoon to point at the ice cream cup before her. “You’re not eating yours, and that stracciatella is obviously for Ven, if you tell him that you got him his favorite flavor, I’m sure he’d bounce right over.” She mutters other comments under her breath, like ‘staring at his phone too much’ and ‘daydreaming about Ven’, but he ignores it all for the sake of not sounding an excited little kid over the phone.

A shiver runs up his arm and to his shoulder. A part of him didn’t want to call, he didn’t want to look desperate and that he’s pining too much. Ven had set their boundaries to being friends, and calling with nerves spiking in his voice would mess everything up. All he needs to do is to act normal and pretend he doesn’t like Ven like he does.

… f*ck. He presses on call and puts the phone on his ear. It takes two rings before Ven’s cheery greeting echoes from his end. He grips his spoon and pokes at his Darkside ice cream. Xion was grinning happily, scooping up more ice cream, deliciously into her mouth. He’d make her pay for that smug attitude after the call, that’s for sure.

“Xion wanted ice cream, we’re at the ice cream shop.” He says in his most calm tone.

He hears him giggle across the line. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Where—“Ven was looking through the glass window, his phone pressed to his ear, his face into a gentle smile. “... Hey. You.”

“Hey you, too.” He chuckles and heads for the door. Xion turns on her seat and waves at him, pointing at the creamy white cup in between her and Vanitas. He points to himself and turns towards Vanitas's flushed face, his phone slid back to his pocket.

Ventus hovers before the seat.

“I… Xion said it's your favorite.” He runs the back of his head, averting his eyes to the window. It was an outward lie, Xion didn’t have to tell him what Ven’s favorite was, he’d known it. Back from when he only pretended to like and care for him. He didn’t think he’d absorb that much information, but looking back, he wished he paid more attention. “I can get you another flavor, if you don’t like it.”

Ven waves his hands to the side. “No, no! Stracciatella is great! Thank you, Vanitas.”

He takes his seat before his designated sundae cup, hurriedly digging into the creamy, milky flavored dessert. He’d turn his attention to Xion, who was already done with her cup, talking about her department’s recital. She was to play the violin with a three piece set, accompanied by her mentor as the pianist. She didn’t show any hint of fright or nervousness, and even seemed pretty excited about it. Ven says an advanced congratulatory remark and promises her another serving of ice cream after the event. Which not only made her bite her lip in doubt, but also turned to Vanitas in anxious shock.

“What?” Ven catches on, his blue eyes following amethyst. “What is it?”

Xion covers her nervousness with a faint laugh. “I thought you two would go on a date after. I don’t want to intrude.”

‘Now, why in the hell would she say that’, Vanitas’s expression sends. Xion wished she didn’t speak at all. In the few seconds that lay in silence, it was evident that the carefully constructed plan in Vanitas’s head had just undergone a surprise attack from a sledgehammer called ‘Xion’.

Ven laughs. “No! No! Xion, you got it all wrong, Vanitas doesn’t like me like that! We’re just friends!” He turns his blue eyes to him, awaiting the expectant support to his declaration. “Right, Van?”

In the depths of his being, spirit and soul, he wanted to say ‘no’. He wanted to shout it. Yell and scream. No, he didn’t think they’re just ‘friends’; no, Ven is definitely wrong; and no, he doesn’t just ‘like’ Ven. It was more than that, it was more than anything he ever felt for somebody before and it scares him. It wasn’t something that he could feel in his dick, nor an infatuation of the mind. He wasn’t his usual type that he sought to protect. He wasn’t broken like him, he wasn’t consumed by fear, like Roxas. Ven is hauntingly radiant, far too bright for somebody used to the dark like him.

Perhaps, it’s the radiance that he sees that helped him understand that he doesn’t deserve to be before him at all. That all he has is this borrowed time.

“Right.” He says with a barely passable smile. “We’re friends.”

—————

The day after he left Roxas’s apartment, was the day he stopped coming to the rooftop. It’s been a couple of weeks or even months since he’s talked to either of them.

He didn’t mind seeing Sora, the brunet is one of his best friends, but he knew what would happen. Hell, he pushed for it to happen. Roxas would end up where Sora was, he’d step forward because he can’t keep shielding himself from a broken heart before it even appears. In a way, he got Roxas, the way he feared being too far gone to deserve someone like Sora, a person that barely did anything wrong in his life. It was guilt, regret and a mixture of apathy; he knew Sora was someone that he’d end up corrupting, Roxas expected it, but at the other end of his feelings, he didn’t really care as long as he had him.

Sora had always known about it. How Roxas felt and how he ran away from it. It was a secret he kept to himself, at least he intended to keep to himself. But Vanitas knew him too well. He read through his fake smiles, his faux confusion and his innocent act; he wasn’t blind to how Sora would test the waters, how his touch would linger too long, his eyes focused every little detail when Roxas would react to him. He knew how Roxas felt, down to every single insecurity he felt about himself, and also, that the best thing to do is to wait. Wait, until Roxas was ready. Wait, until he’s faced his demons and decided for himself.

All Sora had been doing was waiting for Roxas. It’s been a long time, and what kind of friend would he be, if he doesn’t let his best friend relish the time he’s been waiting for since the day he met him?

He walked out of the lecture hall, thinking of skipping the rest of the day. There was no point in sitting inside a classroom anymore, he had always been a self-study kind of person, whatever the class would learn he’d be able to make up for it with a lot of time to spare. He only went to class because Sora would pester him, but he had a good feeling that Sora would be too preoccupied to notice that he wasn’t there anyway. If anything, it was almost Christmas break, even professors would understand that students’ would be too lazy to get their asses in class.

All in all, it’s his free day, he’d need it to look for another place to have his breaks, with or without nicotine. He hasn’t been around the campus too much, there being too many places that are either buzzing with life, or filled with people he preferred to stay away from. There wasn’t much of a choice if he wanted to stay near his department’s building, and so he walked off to the direction of the campus quadrangle and community lots.

Right into the direction of Fountain Square, where the person he least expected to be there sat with a girl with short black hair. He hasn’t seen Ventus since the start of the academic year, having been knocked out of the rankings and out of their original class too. He stands by the fountain, no longer in the asymmetrical clothing he wears, but in a huge cream cowl-neck wool sweater reaching to his mid-thigh, it’s sleeves drowning his arms and hands until all he had were sweater paws on his side over simple black tight jeans and comfy looking boots with fur-flaps.

He looks completely different from the Ventus that went to the same classroom last year. He looked like he shrunk… and had gotten… cuddlier, which Vanitas would never admit to anyone. Ever. He’d take it to his grave, if had to. He tucks his unsaid comment to the back of his head, just as he surreptitiously hid behind a perfectly placed and trimmed hedge, staying within earshot of the two by the fountain.

A year ago, after Roxas transferred, there used to be a conundrum in telling them apart, but their clothes were the easy way to figure out which is which, and possibly the definite difference in their facial expressions. He never really thought about Ventus after; where he ended up in, or what he’s been doing. He was just thankful he didn’t have eyes constantly looking at him or being at the end of some childish contest he didn’t care about. Ventus and Roxas might have similar features, but they were completely different people.

And this blonde, drowning in softness and doleful smiles, is a far cry from the brash and impudent blonde he had grown so fond of.

“Ven!” The black-hair girl whines pulling at his arm. “You can spend it with me! My family would be happy to have you!”

“Thanks, Xion, but I don’t mind, really.” Ven answers back, the laugh he makes was obviously strained. She continues to pull at his arm, successfully pulling him to his feet. He doesn’t budge after, scratching the back of his head with a shy smile. “Christmas is something you spend with your family, I don’t want to intrude.”

She huffs and stands with both feet planted on the ground, her hands on her waist. “You’re not intruding! I want you to be there, I’m not letting you spend Christmas alone!”

Alone? He didn’t mean to eavesdrop but it’s not like the girl was trying to keep anything they talk about as a secret. Ven looked as sullen as he sounded, as if the spirit he had back when he first met him was gone. Was losing his rank and place in class, really that disheartening. If he were in the same place, he would have found another way to get back. Work the shifts, do the long hours, he wouldn’t be caught sitting at a fountain feeling sorry for himself. What did that girl say, ‘spending Christmas alone’, is it another form of his dramatics because he didn’t get his way? He’s still as annoying as ever.

What did he expect, Ventus was one of those students that wanted the spotlight. He celebrates the little victories, the minuscule things that nobody cared about, the few things that he had over anyone, and one the one victory he had over Vanitas. It was a meaningless debate, a graded exercise that pitted students against each other. They were matched and in a surprising upset of magistrate score, Ventus won and got the higher grade. It was one time and Ventus never let him live it down.

Childish. Just remembering how irritating Ventus could get, makes him want to slam his hand to his face. He never responded and walked away as much as he could, but he’d be lying if he said Ventus didn’t get on his nerves. Even as he looked on from afar, the exaggerated way he’s reacting—

“I’ll be fine, Xion.” Ven repeats with an assured chuckle. “It’s just Christmas.”

“But it's not just 'Christmas'! You said… you're not going to go home for the break.” She looks to her feet, her hands entwined together as her thumbs twiddle together. She looked uncomfortable and Ventus mirrored her expression with a somber smile. She lifts her head up and tilts her head with forced contentment. “Fine. At least tell me why you don't like going home for the holidays?”

Ven laughs hollowly, shrugging away her worried look. She hesitates in her steps, but one look at her watch completely changed her expression. She picks up a duffel bag set near the fountain and hooks it over her shoulder. There were a couple more things on the ground that probably belonged to her too. She was headed back home, to where her parents were for the holidays. As is customary for students that grew up with one, they can't even wait three more days to get back home.

Ventus pinches both sides of her cheeks upwards. “Stop worrying! I’ll be fine!" He picks up the rest of her things and hands it to her, shooing her away with a smile. “Now, go! You don’t want that train to leave you!”

She dashes to the Borough Station, her paper bags and duffel bag swinging wildly around her as she waves back to Ven in the distance. Ven waves back with a grin, shouting gis well wishes and then, when she's finally out of range, he lets out a huge sigh and sits on the fountain's railing. The sullen look he had on returned, while he stares at his empty hands.

“I'll be fine.” He laughs bitterly, resting his elbow over his lap, his hand covering half of his face. “Yeah, right.”

Just how long does he plan to stay there? Vanitas mumbles to himself, he's been stuck behind a rather large bush with his nose to his inactive phone. He could play that he’s just answering a message or checking in on his dailies, but it’s been more than five minutes and he’s still rooted in place. He’s starting to look suspicious and not in the cool kind, but the stalker kind. The only saving grace is the lack of people milling about, since Borough Station had its own cafes and mini-marts. Fountain Square is the farthest community park from campus and there’s barely anything to do but to look at the flowers and waters.

Which brings to mind, what is the most social butterfly doing sitting alone up there?

He didn't like Ventus. There was no reason to go up to him and ask, aside from his burgeoning curiosity. It was like seeing a butterfly shed off it’s colorful wings and fade back into a lonely caterpillar, it was weird. He doesn’t like Ventus, he was immature, loud, childish and annoying—he recounts the many times the blonde got on his nerves, if only to reaffirm that he clearly cannot stand him, that all there was in his head, was the urge to know one thing—and only one thing: why was he so deliriously unsettled by a quiet and sad Ventus?

Before his mind could catch up, his body had already moved forward. His feet heading towards the fountain, while the rest of his consciousness catches up to him. When his thoughts are caught up, his mind and body finally on the same page, Ventus turns his attention to him and he’s back to wondering what exactly made him come up from the bush in the first place!

“You’re not going home for the break?” Right, he reminds himself, it was curiosity. That’s all it was.

Ventus pulls himself up to sitting, looking strangely calm at the knowledge that Vanitas overheard them. He picks up the corner of his cheeks and plastered them to a smile. “Yeah! I’m planning on staying here, Daybreak Town is the farthest from Radiant Garden, so if I wanted to head home I should’ve booked my train tickets earlier. Stupid me, I guess.” Ven continues to explain, listing off a bunch of other excuses to snuff out the tracks of his previous conversation with Xion. It wasn’t that he was bad at diverting the topics of conversation, it’s just that Vanitas isn’t easy to mislead. He watched in attentive silence as Ventus continued to spew out words, his fake smile glued to him like concrete.

“... and you’re not listening to me… are you?” Ven ends with a tired sigh, his eyes downcast. He stammers and draws a frown to his face, scooting back on his seat so that his feet would hang. “Did you… mistake me for someone else?”

“No. I know it’s you, Ventus,” because he heard them talking, and heard the name ‘Ven’ over and over; not because he radiates a ‘something’ that Roxas would never be. “I also know that you’re avoiding the question.”

He expected him to respond with the same faux smile and hollow laugh, he already planned out how he’s going to subtly escape from the conversation, because Ventus wouldn’t tell him anything that’s remotely personal as his family, he didn’t even tell that girl, what chance did Vanitas have? But as soon as he formulated a plan to smoothly facilitate his exit, Ventus showed him the bitter expression he tried so hard to keep to himself.

“I… don’t have one.” Ven mumbles, his sweater paws connected before him to a line. The wind picks up, sending loose petals and leaves through the air in a gentle whirlwind. He lifts his watery eyes to him, forcing a practiced smile on his lips. “They don't want me there… So… it’s better, if I stayed here and not cause trouble for anyone.”

His chest tightens. He didn’t know what it was, how it manifested into physical pain, but he knew he shouldn’t have poked his head at it. There was a time that he wished for Ventus to know what real agony was, what true sadness could be, because he thought he was nothing but a bright ball of surface level happiness that didn’t understand what it means to be ‘happy’. He stares at the fake smile on his face, the corners of his lips stretched enough that a dimple appears and smile lines show on his cheeks.

How long have you practiced smiling so genuinely like that?

“... Stay with me.” His mouth slips, his heart pounding on his ears. “I don’t mean that as… ‘with’ me, but… uh you know, I spend Christmas in the dorms too.”

What’s happening, what’s he doing… Why did he say that!? He gulps the lump on his throat, his head had turned topsy turvy—twice!—and he’s been losing his footing for the last few minutes since he started this conversation. Everything he planned in his head, every scene that he predicted didn’t pan out, he’s usually a lot better at reading people, he’s studied social cues because he’s always been tolerant of people and their customs; not because he’s good with them, but the opposite, he needed to know every tick and every little sign to know how to control the situation… but a couple of minutes with Ventus and he’s coming up blank.

Ventus’s eyes widen, he bites his lower lip, while his cheeks shine a light carnation. “I did know that… yeah, but… Nevermind.” He waves his hand in embarrassment, he raises his shoulders, burying half his face with the wide-neck collar of his sweater.

It was the weirdest feeling in the world, the urge to pull the collar down and reveal the full view of his reddening face. He never thought he’d be so annoyed with a piece of clothing in his life, but here he was, telling his consciousness to focus on something else. He takes his eyes off him, turning towards the clear dancing waters beside them.

“You can tell me.” Vanitas murmurs, his hand scratching the back of his neck, his eyes never meeting his. “I won’t mind.”

Ventus presses his sweater paws to his collar, eagerly hiding half his face. Even with only his peripherals, he could tell that Ventus wanted to completely hide his face with his sweater. He bites the inside of his cheek, stifling the imminent smile forming on his face. He crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips to a quivering line.

“It’s just… you sort of hate me, so I never really tried to talk to you.” He laughs nervously, eyes peeking just enough to find amber eyes staring at him. “I know that I annoyed you when we were classmates, so…—what are you laughing at?” He drops his paws, pulling the edges of his sweater down, revealing his perfectly peachy face.

“I’m being serious here.” Ven huffs with a pout.

“I… I don’t … Hate you!” He struggles getting the words out, having uncontrollable laughter erupt from his insides that made, with each puff of breath, Ven grow more impatient. Eventually, leading him to uncharacteristically hit him on the chest. Which to Vanitas, looked like a fluffy white cat pawed at his arms.

“C’mon, tell me already!”

His brows raised high, eyes wide as he stared at Ventus’s ‘paw’ perched precariously over his forearm. Ventus retracts his hand, his face burning with a brighter red color than before. He mumbles an apology under his breath and proceeds to never hold eye-contact after. All he saw were the tips of his fingers that dared to ‘hit’ Vanitas. He started to tumble down his rabbit hole, down to the depths of his inner mind, it was obvious with how the gleam in his eyes got duller, less focused. Less alive.

“No, it’s alright.” Vanitas says, finally calming down with a last chuckle. He reaches out to him and tilts his chin up. “You’re just… so different from who I remember. You seem… quieter.” He wanted to add ‘smaller, redder, cuter ’, but he’s partially sure that Ventus was the same height and size and it’s just the oversized sweater that gives him this illusion of a cuter Ven… er. Smaller Ven.

“Oh, yeah… that’s yeah… that’s really embarrassing.” Ven moves away and laughs awkwardly. “I pretended to be really confident and… ‘fun’, I guess I just wanted you to notice me—Uh, I—I meant! Y-you and Sora, you two were the coolest guys in our class. I acted that way so that you guys would think I was pretty cool too.”

All of that annoying bragging, that non stop teasing about the debate, and those childish contests… they were done for attention. True enough, he was right about it, but he never thought Ven’s intentions were more particular, more specific to just him and Sora. If Ven had known them, if he had just acted the way that he is now, all three of them would have gotten along better. Then it all clicked: What he thought was an obsession for him, wasn’t truly what it was. It was for them, the two of them: Sora and himself.

If there’s anyone that made Ven want to pretend to be someone else to match up to their height in perfection, it would be Sora. But Sora would never turn anyone away. He is That Guy , the one that got along with everyone and is loved by everyone. The entire student body could be said to be besotted with him, so it’s not surprising that Ven would feel the need to stand out between the rally of guys and girls that wanted his attention.

Really, Sora? Again? Tch.

He would have felt a lot better if Ven had left Sora’s name out. He didn't want to have another blonde, blue-eyed, pretty thing to be taken from him again. Especially not by the same person. Even if they’re best friends.

Whoa. Wait. Wait… Am I really talking about Ventus?

Would he really, stoop so low… they’re different people. What he’s feeling is residual. The feelings that were unrequited, that he had to crush before they fully crystallized, the immeasurable regret that spins ‘what if scenarios in his head; those were the feelings that were currently fueling his curiosity and subconscious possessiveness over the lookalike blonde. This isn’t about Ventus, it’s about Roxas.

This is about Roxas.

“Vanitas?” Ven fidgets under his gaze, his ‘paws’ gone back to his regular fair toned hands. He shoves them both inside his jean pockets and titters forward and back, shifting his weight from the ball to heel of his feet. “Uh… I’ll be… going now…”

“No! Wait—“blue eyes stare at him expectantly,”—Uh… Do you… want ice cream?”

Roxas loved ice cream. It was the bits of him that made sense, the parts where Vanitas found him to be adorable. It was common for Roxas to be in a foul mood, and if he’s not, it was easy to push his buttons. He’s not the common person that would be nice for niceness sake, but he treats everyone as if he’s their mirror. They get what they give, and with Roxas, his bluntness and quick-wit, any person that got on his bad side would definitely suffer four or five times over. Despite his overly critical nature, his standoffish attitude and ill-temper; he was easy to calm down, that is, if you have some ice cream on hand.

“...Me?” Ven cautiously points to himself, mouth hung open to a small gape.

Cute. He grabs his clothed forearm and leads the way. Ven dragged on the first three steps, but easily fell into step with him, letting his captured arm loose as he chased the pace behind Vanitas.

Once Vanitas sees the visage of the ice cream store come up, he waits for Ven to catch up and walk beside him, his fingers still curled firmly over his forearm. He notices Ven had been staring at the hand over his arm, not with disdain but with a certain dreamy look he’s so familiar with. It flickers away when Ven notices him looking, but he’s already seen it. It was a look that Vanitas wouldn’t be able to forget, he’s seen it too many times on his own face, in the mirror; on Sora’s when he thinks Roxas isn’t looking; and, on Roxas, whenever Sora is near. It was the look of a person in love and Ven looked to him.

He grips his empty hand to a fist, tightening them, until his fingers dug marks to his palm. His chest felt a slight twinge that spread to his stomach and throat. It felt weird, it felt wrong… but most of all, it felt good to finally be at the receiving end of that look. It didn’t help that it was so easy to think that face to be Roxas’s. It wasn’t right, they weren’t the same, but…

“Is that for me?” Ven perks up, approaching him as he exited the store with two cones of ice cream, dark chocolate with rum, or better known as Darkside, and Sea-Salt.

Instinctively, Vanitas hands him the light blue colored dessert. Ven responds with a confused look and a laugh after. His blue eyes brewing a storm beneath its gleam. Vanitas wonders aloud, completely taken aback by the expression on his face.

“Uhm… isn’t this your favorite?”

Ven shakes his head, his smile a little different from the ones before. “No. You must be thinking of someone else.” He says with an almost heartbroken tone, taking the offered ice cream with a hollow laugh.

“Sea-Salt… is my half-brother’s favorite.”

“...Yeah, yeah… Just out like a log. What? No! I didn’t! Naminé! I’m serious, should I be calling an ambulance? I’m not going to throw ice water on him, he’s unconscious now but he’s going to kick my ass when he wakes up—Oh, hey, I think he's moving! I gotta go!”

He passed out. Again. Ugh. It was getting annoying, having been taken out of his consciousness for twice in a row and it’s only half the day. Those stupid triggers, they always work when he least expected them to. He’s spent countless days in the presence of both Roxas and Sora; heck, he had a fight with Ven about Roxas, and so many times that his thoughts ran back to him, and yet it chooses the moment when he finally searched for answers on his own, to return to him.

They weren’t the kind of memories that he liked to relive when he’s waking up at Sora’s apartment, his partner being the object of one of the many memories that came back to him. The only question he faces is how does he go about it. Sora had sat on the coffee table in front of him, recalling the events that happened after his involuntary sleep. Most of his words and explanations were a buzz in his ear, his full attention still back on the resurgence of his recently returned memories.

He groans and pulls himself up to sit. “How… long was I out?”

“How about ‘I’m sorry I spooked you by pretending to die’? Geez. I was talking for over an hour and you didn’t even hear a word.” Sora ends with a sigh of relief. He transfers from the table to the space beside Vanitas, pushing away at the legs on his cushiony sofa. “So. You normally drop like a fly since the accident?”

Vanitas chuckles, the way Sora phrases everything makes everything less detrimental and serious than it is. Then again, taking things too seriously has been the chip on his shoulder that he can finally, and confidently, say he never outgrew. It was definitely Sora that taught to take a step back and chill out, it was mostly him that pushed the saying go with the flow and don't fight destiny. They were, at core, completely of different built, but they balanced each other out. At least, enough that Sora's naivety and overly trusting nature transformed, and Vanitas's doubt all persona broke. In hindsight, Sora's way of handling his lost memories was the most laissez faire of all, but without the pressure to regain anything, he always found himself stumbling into more and more triggers.

“It’s how it works.”

Sora’s ‘ohhs’ of realization filled the space around them. He’s been talking to Naminé, and it seemed like it finally clicked. The reason the doctor and friend in her was the least bit concerned about Vanitas passing out. He pieces together the small facts and information he got from Naminé, eventually coming to the conclusion that what he did—telling Vanitas about whatever it was he did—was wrong. Vanitas didn’t need to hear it from him, he could already tell from the face journey Sora took a meter away from him.

“I don’t want to hear it.” He says, massaging his throbbing head. “I passed out before I could hear sh*t from you. Naminé must’ve explained it enough, but I can’t… I can’t just wait around for it to come back. I’m not built like that.”

“Yeah. Tell me about it.” Sora guffaws, shaking his head in amusem*nt. “It always has to be your way or no way. It used to drive Roxas crazy, and Ven… Ven loved it about you, and buddy, me? I found you being blocked from what your way is absolutely the best comedy.”

He loved it about me… ? It was probably an exaggeration. One of those ‘love is blind’ commentary he’s heard so much about, because no person found him ‘lovable’ for being too imposing, no normal person would find his direct bluntness as something endearing enough to tack on a warm feeling such as ‘love’. Ventus wouldn’t, he couldn’t… they all said it, after all, he changed with Ventus. He’s ‘nice’ to him, as Naminé said; how could anyone, as stubborn and emotionally constipated as he is, find him ‘lovable’?

“Are you blushing?” Sora’s eyes widens with a glimmer of mischief. “Damn. Ven really got you smitten, huh?”

What should he say, does he deny it, or does he say exactly what it is his chest has been drumming since the memory at the fountain came back? It wasn’t much to go on, but it was enough for the moment. A part of him wanted to know more, wanted to veer into his past and watch them make sense of the mess he made. It made him cringe, seeing him stutter and pause, hum and go quiet; while Ven titters and flits about, wearing his heart on his sleeve that was always, always beating for him.

“I don’t… know.” The smile on his face reaches to his ears, before fading away into a grimace, “but I’ve seriously f*cked up.”

Sora doesn’t jest and easily shifts from his teenage self back to being the best friend Vanitas depended on for most of their timing knowing each other. He never needed much guidance, that is, if he were to keep count, it would be Sora that needed a little push when he second guesses himself. Hence, whenever the rare moments of needing Sora’s help happens, he knew Sora wouldn’t joke about it.

“Okay, granted you've been f*cking up your entire relationship since college, how much did you remember?”

He chuckles, still inadvertently elated by having bigger pieces of the puzzle fall into place. “A lot and not much,” common sense would say that he wade into the waters. He shouldn't jump, head first, into a pool and later find out there were piranhas swimming in it. Common sense was lost to him at the moment.

“I liked Roxas and you knew about it.”

Sora stares at him with a straight face. He doesn't move from his seat nor say or do anything, except for looking straight into Vanitas’s amber eyes. He waits for the end, for Vanitas to shut his mouth and decide whether he’s ready to face how Sora would respond. Egregiously, Vanitas took his own words a lot worse than how Sora does.

“I did.” His blue eyes blinking in interest, the soft kind smile on his face remains. “I tried to push you guys together too, it seemed that Roxas preferred you then too.”

“You’re wrong, even back then.” Vanitas says immediately, slamming his hand on the cushion between them. “He… never saw anyone else but you.”

It was Sora’s turn to grin widely, the soft smile on his face completely replaced by an ear to ear toothy grin. It made Vanitas realize that whether Sora and himself had known, they probably had never talked about the ‘Roxas’ issue as sincerely as they do now, or else, why would Sora be crazily beaming like he won the lottery after hearing his side of things.

“He would never give me a straight answer whenever I asked.” Sora says with a chuckle. “You know how he is, he would deflect and would say it in other ways. Roxas being sensitive and wordy about emotions?”

They exchanged glances before speaking out the same line at the same time: “Fat chance.”

The awkward air and the pent up energy they both had were released by the laughter they filled the air with. It was no longer tense inside the vaguely similar room, but along with the returning memories was a promise he made before he took the job, and the reason why the fight with Ven got out of hand. They were the two masterminds behind the plot, but somehow Sora doesn’t seem to be pulling his weight, because Roxas still acts like a dick to Ven.

“About that, didn’t we say that we’d get those two estranged siblings to be… not so estranged.What the hell happened?”

Sora claps in exclamation, suddenly enliven by the turn of the topic. The crude looking gesture of scratching the back of his head, his face in a ‘oh gosh, darn it’ simpleton expression, made Vanitas deadpan faster than Sora could fill the air with reasons that he’d rather not listen to. His memory was partially back, and Present/Future Vanitas and Teenage—er.. 20-year-old Vanitas still thinks it a plot worth working on.

“We both thought that it would be best if those two made up, sure. Roxas was pretty much on board with the plan, but… he’s… not used to being nice to Ven, he literally doesn’t know when to pull his punches and even when he’s joking around, it doesn’t translate well. Ven ends up crying to you, and Roxas gets frustrated with how sensitive Ven is to me.”

Well, sh*t. He said in his head, face-palming himself at the realization that, with those two, them getting along is like putting water with oil. They’ll never mix, unless a force in this existence would push them together so strongly that they’d have to talk it out. Everything in their lives, the way they were raised and the alienation each of them felt, it varies from the other. They’re both victims of a wrongdoing they had no part of but continued paying with the rest of their lives. They didn’t have to despise each other, in fact, if there’s one person that would understand what each of them was going through, it would be the other.

“Then there’s you.” Sora sighed, heavily. “You’re such a dickhe*d. You just had to date both of them, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t date both of them,” he retorts, folding his arms over his chest. “...Ventus was… the only one I really dated. The only one I really… wanted to be with.”

It was hard to figure out. It was confusing to have them both look so similar, but Ven was so different. His soul, his entire being, the way he fakes his smiles for everyone else; how he hides his loneliness and rage for the sake of someone else. He was a brilliant light that shone so differently from Roxas’s burning spark. He never felt at rest with Roxas, it was a fight and flight, and neither of them would choose the same. While Ven never pushed him to his extremes and just wades, walking and running along with him. He basked in the comforting light that came from him; he was too busy hating Ven to realize that he’s been falling so hard and so fast for him at the same time.

He stills. Frozen in his quiet realization, admittedly stunned that the rate of his recovery had skyrocketed since he ran into the memory of Fountain Square and Ven’s sad smile. Was it then… was it the time when he truly, truly fell for him?

Sora stands up from his seat, stretching his arms up. “Well, that’s refreshing to hear. You being head over heels in love with Ven.”

He sends him a long and murderous glare that only made Sora laugh.

“You know what, this calls for a celebration. You, getting your memories back; us, not having to go to work. I say we celebrate!” He cheers, genuinely expectant of hurrahs and fanfares.

It was a generally productive day. Though he spent most of the time sleeping on Sora's couch or terrace, whichever. There was a lot from his trace that went right and quite a lot of his memories that came back. Though it has its toll, the headache and fatigue along his mental state and psychosomatic need to take a nap were all there, but he'd be damned if he'd say anything of the sort to Sora.

But… he does have his pajamas on. He's not prepared to go anywhere in public. Yeah, he doesn't give a f*ck wearing it around the apartment complex building, but going to somewhere in public in his pajamas is a huge 'no'. They might as well order in some food and turn the TV on. Not even Sora can change his mind on this one.

“Sora.”

The brunet was already stepping inside the bedroom, his voice echoing along through the distance. Vanitas raised his brow, the anticipation of what kind of surprise Sora would tumble out with already makes his face contort. Eventually, Sora comes out with a set of clothes and shoes, his face grinning in dubious mischief that Vanitas didn't dare ask.

“I'm not wearing that.”

“Oh, c'mon!” Sora whines, putting the stack of clothes on the coffee table. “Why not?”

It wasn't the colors, they were his standard blacks and reds, but the style. Sora had a boy next door look, the kind that would have worn hoodies and comfy sweaters and some faded or washed trousers. It was a look, it was clearly a kind good natured look. Vanitas's style wasn't boy next door at all, it would be closer to call it delinquent from that scary alley. It was leather and bomber jackets, ripped jeans and full on black ones. He's not going to wear Sora's clothes, it's enough that they have similar features, dressing like the other is just screwing with the identities the Universe gave them.

“You can always go back to your place, take a shower and change your clothes.” He smirks, knowing fully well that Vanitas would rather crawl through the sewers than face Ven at the moment. “See. You're stuck. Just take a shower and borrow my hoodie. Let’s play up the twins card! C’mon!”

Sora's already pulling him by the arm. Dragging his unwilling and heavy deadweight body across the living room, through the dining and kitchen, throwing him to the bathroom door. It wasn't much of a fight, not with Vanitas actually moving his feet and stepping when he had to. It didn't take away that Sora could carry him, had he needed to be manhandled to the bathroom.

He looked at himself in the mirror, the view of his tattered undershirt from overuse did nothing for his body. The overly stretched collar showed a peek of his prominent collar bones and defined chest, but the looseness of the shirt took away everything. His hair and face were at least awake, but more than that, there's nothing salvageable.

The fresh air and walk through the park to clear his head was something he needed, but before he could have it, he needed to take a shower and wear clothes he'd never wear. The price wasn't that steep , he thought and got into the shower.

It took Vanitas a second before realizing the true reason his subconscious wouldn't let him say 'yes' immediately, and it was Sora's odd love for fragrant shampoos and soap that brought that all back. He stands still under the cascading water, staring at the label for the shampoo: tropical coconut .

Dammit.

An hour later and Sora had other tricks up his sleeves, and Vanitas was paying for it dearly. The promised black long sleeves and dark trousers were changed to a white shirt and light wash jeans, and to top it off, the shoes Sora lent him were a bright colored yellow with some black markings. He had guessed that Sora would do something like this, but there was also no fighting him when he set his mind to do something. It was either he'd dress in Sora's bright red hoodie jacket and yellow shoes or he'd be dragged out the complex with his tattered undershirt and pajamas.

There was no winning with him and that's why he's standing in the middle of Eastern District Park, red hood up and glowering at the groups of people chattering and looking his way. He looks weird in Sora's clothes, he gets it! They didn't need to look at him like he grew a second face.

“You still glower at everyone, I see.” A man with long brown hair and blue eyes comments, walking to his direction. “But I gotta say, the clothes are an improvement, you don't seem so scary with a white shirt on, Vanitas.”

“Wow. Now that's what I call aging. Did I miss 5 or 15 years, you look freakishly old.” He retorts with a smug look on his face. The man's face twitches, his expression a cross of mild annoyance and shock that his age is used against him. “Don't start battles you can't win, Terra.”

Terra sighs, his shoulders drooping in a relief. He raises his hand and claps a friendly shake between them. “It's good to see you. Aqua told me what happened. Lost memories, a car accident and… well you know, you and Ven having troubles in paradise.”

They weren't having troubles in paradise! They had a 'disagreement' but it could hardly even be considered as 'trouble'. He huffs and crosses his arms. This is exactly why he didn't want to visit Aqua, they'd start overreacting and exaggerating everything! Despite the holes in his head, he knows that to Terra and Aqua, with regard to Ven, he had a lot to prove. Those two were like his surrogate parents and between the two of them, Terra was more reasonable. If Terra knew about their little disagreement, there's only one source of where he'd get it from.

“Must your girlfriend tell you everything?”

Terra chuckles. “Nope, my girlfriend doesn't, but my wife does.”

They hear a sigh come from behind them and a soft echoing smack on skin. They turn their heads and Aqua stands behind them, dressed in a fluffy parka and a scarf. She smiles at Vanitas and narrows her eyes over to Terra.

“You have got to stop with that joke. It's just… it's bad. Vanitas has enough to deal with right now.” She tilts her head, her worried expression gone and replaced by a comforting smile. “Isn't that right, Vanitas?”

Is she… is she smiling at me? He had expected Aqua to be the one to tear him down with a single look. She was protective of Ven and doesn't take kindly to her 'child' being hurt. In whatever way or form that may be. She's the one that threatened him to never hurt Ventus again or else Vanitas would be lucky to even catch a glimpse of him, more so breathe in the next following seconds of his life. She's more terrifying than her sweet smiles and her threats weren't empty, they're promises she intends to keep.

She's a frightening woman.

“Uh… Aqua, I can explain.”

She laughs and pulls down his red hood. She brushes his reddening cheeks, the colder wind of autumn definitely doing wonders on his normally pale skin. “You don't have to, Ven told me everything. I'm not mad, I'm worried about you. About the two of you.”

“He's fine, Aqua!” Terra ruffles his head, effectively using his height over him. Vanitas had grown an inch past his shoulders, but it doesn't mean he'd stop with the short jokes just yet. “Just look at him, healthy as a shrimp.”

Aqua slaps her husband's chest playfully, stepping closer to him for a quick hug. He pulls him away from Vanitas, knowing that her husband’s playful nature would eventually tick him off and then where would they be. “How were things in Palamecia?”

“Horrible. Mateus is as hard-headed as ever.” He shuts his eyes, leaning closer to her, letting his tense muscles relax. He leaves Vanitas alone and chooses to sling his arm over his wife's shoulders, giving her another one-armed hug. She giggles under his arms and returns the hug with her arms wrapping around him. “I'm never going back there, not unless you're gonna come with me, Boss.”

“Ugh. Gross, would you two cut that sh*t out.” Vanitas carefully reminds that he’s within the viewing and hearing vicinity. It was bad enough when Terra bumbled about like an idiot when he was courting Aqua, now that they’re actually married their capability to exude the disgustingly pink-aura is limitless.

But even if Vanitas complained louder, neither of them would relent. Terra just came back from a business trip from across three continents, it was an entire week of being away from Aqua. It was expected that they’d block off any opinions with how they should act. Vanitas takes a deep sigh and leaves the couple alone, choosing to look for the missing brunet that obviously took his time doing… whatever it is he’s doing.

He spots Sora sitting on a bench, his phone to the side of his face, his expression a muted glow. The person across the line must be Roxas, no wonder he left him. He rolls his eyes and sits unapologetically next to Sora. He doesn’t hear much of the conversation, since it was Roxas doing all the talking, while Sora would answer with casual conversation interjections of ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s. When the call ends, Sora was as casual as ever, saying his farewells and ‘I love and miss you’ in his lilt tone.

It was that simple. Easy. f*cking basic. Sora just opened his mouth and said what he’s feeling, what he wanted to say, without fuss or worry. It was like magic to him, and it probably showed on his face, because Sora wouldn’t stop laughing when their eyes met.

“Dude. Trust me, you’re a lot worse than I am.” He continues laughing.

Me? Worse?! I can’t even tell him a compliment without being a dick! His brows furrowed together, the insinuation that he’s more in tune with his emotions than Sora, making blood rush to his face. There was no way that was true, Sora was so confident about it. So collected when he tells Roxas… those words . He can’t fathom ever being comfortable with them enough to say it willingly, or even, in the privacy of their apartment to the person he wanted to say it to.

“Right. As if.”

Sora shakes his head, leaving his thoughts and leading him along to the quaint cafe/truck somewhere in the middle of the park. It was almost sunset, the park still free from the rush hour mess of people walking to their homes after work. Hence, their trip for some hot beverages would be just right on time. Once they got to the truck, Sora was in line and he dumbly followed him to it, as if instinct told him to get in line too. Sora ends up buying two steam cups of cappuccino, and his personalized drink that Vanitas could say is just sugar with a hint of caffeine. He was about to trail behind Sora when the barista behind the window of the truck asked him for his order.

“Doppio espresso and white chocolate mocha. Add some nutmeg and cinnamon on the mocha.” The boy behind the opening of the truck happily notes the orders and enters it into the register in front of him. He turns back to him, accustomed to his job and asks for anything else. “How about a pumpernickel bagel?”

The barista rings up his order and gives him a cup holder for his drinks and carefully wrapped pumpernickel bagel. It was one of those moments where his subconscious took control, he didn’t know he was hungry, he probably hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast, but he hated pumpernickel bagels, he’s on the side of an everything bagel—why in the world would he even buy a white chocolate mocha with nutmeg and cinnamon? He shakes his head and catches up to Sora, who’s already giving the cappuccinos to Terra and Aqua.

“Are you hungry, Vanitas?” Aqua asks, noticing the cups and bagels on him.

Vanitas blinks at her, his head devoid of an explanation and hands her the bagel. “Do you want it, I don’t really know why I got a bagel.” and this… ridiculously specific drink.

Aqua exchanges looks with Terra, their smiles holding a hidden meaning to them. Vanitas wanted to pester them about it but his hands were literally full, and it’s not like bothering and pestering them would work. He’s tried. He sighs, staring incredulously at the piece of bread in his hands, questioning why he’d waste money on a bagel he hates.

“Sorry! Sorry! I missed my train!”

Ventus? His mind immediately says, his body turning around to where his friends were looking. Sure enough, it was Ven, dressing in another oversized ensemble; navy blue knitwear, some warm looking red scarf, khaki trousers and boots. He looked cozy and ridiculously comfortable that teenaged-not-crushing Vanitas would have called him a bouncing pillow, but as he is, with the erratic pounding on his chest, all he could think of was diving in for a hug.

He didn't. Of course. Going in for a hug, when they barely had a decent conversation. He left the apartment after saying he didn't want to give him affection… he can't come back at the end of the day and do something like that. Ven would just get angry at him and say that his actions weren't supposed to be based on what he's 'supposed' to do.

Ironic that his returning memories only made him want to wrap the tiny blonde into his arms and never let go. He'd scold him for saying the dumbsh*t he does, taking the blame and saying it's his fault why sh*t happens, but he'd rather have that talk on the bed, their arms around each other as they tirelessly talk until the morning.

“Ven!” Aqua catches him into a warm hug, the knitwear that wore him folding over Aqua’s arms, revealing just how small Ven really is. Aqua ruffles his head. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Gimme a break, Aqua.” He shoos her hands away, mildly embarrassed. “We just saw each other.” He glances towards the figure over her back and sees Terra. “You, I haven’t seen you in months!”

Terra, Aqua and Ven completely fell into their own world, they were best friends, with Ven doubling in for their surrogate son back in college. The couple easily digresses into their own worries, stories and catch up routine that Sora and Vanitas ended up staring (Vanitas) and laughing (Sora) from the sidelines. The three would have devolved into their own group, had Terra not noticed the situation and tied their spectators back into the loop, Ven apologizing for getting too excited and carried away.

Sora nudges Vanitas, seemingly unnoticed by their small group. “Shouldn’t you be giving that to someone?” He eyes the bagel and the cups in the holder.

Ven was turned to Aqua, completely immersed in her story. He laughed and grinned, teased and smiled, it was clear that he was enjoying himself. It was an expression that he thought he wouldn’t see today, with how they left things. He made his way to him, inching in his steps, until he’s close enough that Aqua points to him, making Ven turn around with a huge smile… that faltered once they met Vanitas’s amber.

“Do you want this?” He raises the bagel to eye level and holds the cup that was marked ‘WCM’ on the side.

“For me? Y-yeah. Thanks...” He notices the markings on the cup and takes it with a somber smile. He opened the bagel bag with some help from his teeth and found himself completely surprised. “You even got my favorite kind of bagel.”

Vanitas was high-key proud, he felt the corners of his lips edge up in pride. It was a lucky guess, but how many lucky guesses has he been having. It’s like Naminé said, it’s muscle memory; his body remembers, his mind knows, and sooner or later, his consciousness would trace those moments back too.

The others have already gone ahead, Aqua suggested that they get dinner together and catch up some more. It was rare to have Terra back in Radiant Gardens, Aqua has him to depend on for marketing exposure and client meet-ups. Aqua had started her own accessory line that's currently hitting big with the market. At least, it's what he heard, from the three meter distance he keeps from them. He kept his pace slow, intentionally to be next to Ven.

“How… did you know?”

He shrugs, trying to act cool and play off his own ecstatic feelings. He bought the drink and bagel out of a subconscious urge, he’s not sure whether it falls within something he’s ‘supposed’ to do, or what he wanted to do. “Lucky guess.”

“Oh. Right.” Ven smiles at him, kind and gentle. The hollow smile from his memory comes to mind as he fakes a laugh and hurries along back to Sora or Aqua.

He did the right thing, he didn’t want to put too much affection on something he didn’t really want to do. He didn’t want to poke Ven again and re-make the mess of the morning they had. At least, not in front of their friends, they were having a grand time: Sora, mostly leading the conversation with his never ending adventures, and Terra would follow up with another interesting story from overseas and cross continents trivia and facts.

They sat in circular, the small diner was kind enough to put them on a table for a larger party, but all Vanitas could see was the three person space between himself and Ven, and the quarter-person space he has with Terra. It was putting him in a foul mood, but he had to maintain his cool. He could always move towards Ven, closing the gap to at least a one person gap.

“Hey, Aqua? The heater’s a bit much on my end, can we switch places?” Ven says, pushing his sweater’s sleeves up and pulling at the thick turtleneck bundled over his neck. Aqua, as expected, easily agrees and gives up her seat. She’s still next to Terra, but the switch placed Ven in between Terra and Sora. Vanitas is in an even fouler mood than before.

Sora nudges him from under the table, mouthing to Vanitas: ‘what did you do?’. He shrugs and goes back to paying attention to the stories being told by both Aqua and Terra. They've long passed dinner and have gone on to have a round of cold drinks. Aqua has her own bottle, as well as the others, and he's confident enough that all four of them can handle their alcohol. The four being himself, Aqua, Terra and Sora. Ventus on the other hand… had already turned pink.

Then, the issue that Ven has a loose lip when it comes to being drunk, only made their awkward exchange particularly noticeable, the way they skip around each other like hot lava. Ven acted less obviously, but his eyes do linger when Vanitas wasn't looking. While Vanitas was as subtle as a truck. His attention was only on Ven, the very short times they weren't was if he's getting personally addressed or talked to. Other than that, his eyes would often look at Ven like a lost kitten, meowing for attention.

Eventually, he takes pity on himself and excuses himself from the group. Ven looked like he was genuinely happy to catch up with them, and everyone felt the same too. He said he needed some air, and they all agreed that he could walk around outside and come back when he's feeling less dizzy or drunk.

I think agitated is more apt.

He comes back an hour later, the diner's customers are all gone except the four on the large table. He sees them from the entrance, Terra's chin resting over Aqua's shoulder, while Aqua continues explaining how her small online hobby became her actual job. While Sora had leaned in his propped up arm with Ven's head casually falling over Sora's shoulder.

The dark and murderous feeling was back with a vengeance. It was as if his sight narrowed so quickly and without a second thought he pushed Ven's head away from Sora's shoulder and pulled him up from his seat.

“Why do you have to push yourself like this? No, don't reason with me. We're going home.” He takes Ven's limp arms and puts it over his neck, lifting Ven over his back to a piggyback. He locks his arms under Ven's knees and turns back to their group of friends that were snickering at the scene.

“Vani, I'm good. I promise.” He mumbles incoherently, hugging Vanitas like a koala. He nuzzles his neck. “Mhmm-mhm… you're overreacting, isn't he, Aqua? I'm fine!”

Aqua giggles and signalling one of the waiters for the bill. “I think you should sleep, Ven.”

“What? No! I'm fine… I'm fine…” He nears his mouth to Vanitas's ear, hugging his neck tight, saying 'closer, closer, it's supposed to be a secret' loudly. “Vani… I'm fine right, tell them I'm fine. They don't believe me, but they'll believe you.”

Vanitas snickers and fixes his hold over him, bouncing him up his back. Shaking his head as he sees the irony of the request. He's the one that wanted him to stop, why in the world would he tell them that. Ven slumps against him, his head resting over his shoulder.

“I'm taking him home. Let's continue this another time?”

He manages to say, despite the arms around his neck. He wanted to say more, but the hot breath near his neck and ear is starting to make consequences appear and pop up. It wasn’t how he wanted to end the night, since he’s missed Terra and Aqua too, and hanging out with Sora was always something he looked forward to, but he’d much rather take Ventus home.

He arrives home with Ven on his back. He takes him straight to the bedroom, dropping him carefully over the bed. He takes off his boots, pulling away his layers and the knit sweater over his head. Ven grumbles and groans with being led like a puppet around undressing himself, his glossy eyes land on Vanitas in the dark and did the last thing Vanitas wanted. He started talking, not just ‘talking’, he started saying words that would have made Vanitas spontaneously combust into ashes.

“You’re so hot.”

He freezes in his tracks, in his hands were the recently pulled sweater. He wanted to put Ven into fresh clothing, that was the plan, and then Ven says those three words and Vanitas hovers over him like a stone statue.

“You’re really out of it. You’re not going drinking anymore, are we clear?”

Ven pouts at him in frustration. “You’re supposed to say ‘thank you’.”

“What?”” Vanitas discards the knitwear into their laundry basket. Pulling one of his shirts from his side of the closet and walking back to Ven. He crosses his arms and refuses to put his arms through the sleeves, making Vanitas sigh in defeat. “Ventus, stop being difficult.”

“You’re being difficult.” He mumbles with a huff. “I just told you a compliment and you didn’t even say ‘thank you’.”

He snickers and takes a seat next to him on the bed, cupping his warm cheeks in his hands. Ven’s puffed up cheek and furrowed eyes greets him. He’s obviously throwing a drunk tantrum and Vanitas had never found him cuter. He bites the inside of his cheek and makes their noses touch. “Alright. You win. Thank you.”

“Okay! Now, it’s your turn!” He cheers with an obvious slur. He presses a soft kiss over Vanitas’s smirking lips and pulls back. “Give me a compliment!” He demands playfully completely unaware with how haywired Vanitas is with his little peck.

He stutters, opening his mouth with any sound or words coming out. His fingers hover over his own lips, entranced. The only way he broke out of his reverie was when Ven threw himself over his arm, wanting attention and demanding for his compliment.

“You… need to sleep.” He finishes, pressing a soft kiss over Ven’s forehead.

Ven frowns and crawls into bed, getting under the covers with his frown in place. He glares at Vanitas, as he’s being tucked under the blankets. Vanitas knew he’s still hung up over the lack of the compliment, it was a drunken logic, but it’s what Ven believes. He’s not going to stop glaring at him until he gives him one. It was. lowkey, the most endearing thing he’d seen, but he has a feeling that whatever he says probably wouldn’t matter. Ven was drunk out of his mind, he even gave him a kiss—there’s a high chance he won’t remember a thing since the dinner.

“Vani…?”

He hums in response.

“Why don’t you tell me you love me anymore?” Ven’s round blue eyes glimmer under the sheen of light from the windows. “I miss you so much, Vanitas.”

Vanitas combs back the blonde hair on his face, smiling. He waits until Ven shuts his eyes before he makes his exit. He fixes the pillows over his makeshift bed and stares up into the dark ceiling.

I miss you too, Ven.

Vanitas didn’t mean to stay up and eavesdrop, he was in his ‘bed’, all cozy with his blanket and pillow, but he could hear someone’s muffled voice speaking. It was undoubtedly Ven, speaking to someone on the phone. Vanitas wondered who could be so important that he’d pull himself from his inebriated self at three in the morning, to talk with them on the phone. Sure, he’s not clear with how he should feel. He can’t really say he ‘loves’ him, or that he has ‘romantic’ feelings for him, but he likes Ven. He likes Ven enough that he’s going to march up to their bedroom and tell him to go back to sleep and put himself over someone else for once, and get some rest.

He approached their bedroom door quietly, realizing that the door was already ajar. Inside, Ven was curled into a ball, covered by the blanket. He pokes his head inside, ready to tell him to get off the phone, when he hears him whimper and sniffle. Ven grabs the pillow beside him and hugs it to himself, using it to quiet the sobs he’s making.

“I’m so scared Aqua. What if… What if he never remembers?”

Is he… talking about me?

“It’s been a month or more… but he still feels nothing. He doesn’t remember me or anything. I don’t know what to do anymore, Aqua…” He hiccups and curls further into himself, dragging the blanket to his side

Vanitas wanted to melt into a puddle and never materialize again. He had been trying, he even has some of his memories now. They’re not complete but these pieces are all he has, and he cherishes it. He remembers meeting Ven again, he remembers that he did, in fact, ask him out. He remembers… the difficult part of their past. He remembers telling Xion that he’d never want to hurt him, he’d never want to cause him any pain too, and that’s perhaps the real reason he found himself staring at his feet, weighed down by guilt and a broken promise.

It’s not the memories that were really the problem, he thinks. It was the feelings, the real and true feelings his Present/Future self had for Ven. The feelings that he’s still unclear with.

He can’t say that he loves Ven. He can’t even say that he has feelings for Ven. Everything is too vague, too mixed and muddled with how he remembers things and the feelings that interacting with Ven after the accident made.

Ven had always been patient with him, he was kind and took care of him. Even with the huge hole inside his head, or at the expense of having his childish self in place of the boyfriend that loves him; Ven welcomed him home, he smiled and tried his hardest to get along with him, even as he stares at him with a longing gaze that he could neither return or feel anything but embarrassment from.

“What if this is it? What if he never remembers… what if even if his memories come back… all of his feelings for me are gone? I spent years being in love with him and he never looked at me twice! What if this is it… what if all I ever was to him is a rebound from Roxas?” He sobs, crying loudly into the quiet room. “I don’t think I could go back to that…”

There was silence in the air, the suffocating guilt hanging over Vanitas’s head, neck and limbs. It’s like he’s hearing Ven for the first time. He had been grateful that Ven had welcomed him, accepted him and forgave him for the misgivings his lack of memories made him do, but he never knew… just how pained Ven was because of it.

“You should have seen it. Whenever I get too close to him, or when I tell him about the things we do as a couple. The things we’ve done before. He looks so disgusted with it. I disgust him.”

That’s not true! He wanted to say, gripping his hands into fists. He’s not disgusted with him, it’s not even remotely close to what he felt. It’s the idea that they've done something so deeply intimate and romantic that completely frazzles him. He’s not disgusted with Ven, he’s just… taken by surprise.

“He’s not. It’s impossible for him to fall in love with me again. It was a miracle that he ever did.”

He pauses, sniffling. “He won’t. He doesn’t like me. And sometimes I think that Vanitas fell in love with me, unwillingly… you know? He never really saw me- me from the start, I was just…” he trails off, the anticipation Vanitas felt could turn electric at any moment, but Ven doesn’t say a word, It was as if Aqua knew exactly what he’s talking about. “Because deep down, I knew he’s a good person. I knew that he was hurting… and maybe it was wrong for me… but I was so, so desperate to be loved by him—I know it’s not like that anymore but…”

A part of Vanitas wanted to stick his head back out and close the door. He wanted to leave and shout at the balcony because he’s such a f*cking asshole that didn’t deserve the couch he slept on. Hearing Ven say those words, the way he talks about him and how much of an asshole he was, made him want to punch himself. Even with only a quarter of the memories back, he knew that a part of him wanted to love Ven. He wanted to, but he’s just not sure if what he’s feeling is because he’s supposed to love Ven, or because he does… love Ven.

What did he mean ‘unwillingly’? What, did he… hypnotize me?

“I just don’t think I can do this anymore…” his voice was muffled with a pillow. “Sometimes he sounds like how he used to be… and I’d think every time that maybe, just maybe he’s back but then, every time he’s… he’s not I almost want to hate him. I miss my Vanitas so much.” He hiccups, his sobs bouncing around the dark room, the balls himself further, the lump under the blanket quivering. “I just want him back already.”

The dull ache in his chest turned to sharp stabs. He hated seeing Ven like this. He hated hearing him cry, he hated looking at him curled under the blankets. Lost. Abandoned. Forgotten. Absolutely hopeless as he lets his tears run down his face.

He wanted to make it better, he wanted to go there and comfort him, but he knew how well the last time ended, and that was just yesterday. His feet plants on the ground, as hopelessly confused as Ven is.

The sound of the phone being discarded back to the side table sounds with a ‘tac’. The call ended because there was nothing else Aqua would get from Ven. He was drunk, partially, and his sobering up meant his pent up emotions have come to burst. He pulls the covers over his head and curls himself against a pillow, stifling his sobs with it.

Does he always do this? Cry himself to sleep?

Vanitas, perplexed with himself, found himself taking a step forward. His mind still in debate, his emotional state as confused as ever. He doesn’t want to start another fight, he doesn’t want to be yelled at for trying to comfort him. But his entire body moved forward, still, like it doesn’t matter whether Ven starts a fight with him. He doesn’t know how he’s going to go about it, but he reaches the edge of the bed and sits next to the curled up ball underneath.

“Ven.” He calls out, pulling the covers down to reveal his wet eyes, cheeks and lips. His mouth gapes at him, shocked at his sudden appearance. He sniffs and swallows his sobs, wiping away his tears with the base of his palms, only to be immediately replaced.

“I… I… Vanitas… N-not now, I promise it’s… N-nothing just… a bad dream.” He tries to pull the covers back over himself, but Vanitas, with a new found stubbornness, kept his grip over the blanket and shook his head. Ven sniffs again, his eyes rimmed red and sparkled under the light, he sinks lower into the covers, in a stubborn attempt to overthrow Vanitas’s hold over his blanket. “I told you… it’s nothing, just a dream…”

Vanitas wanted to chuckle at how silly it was, he’s crying his eyes out and he’s still so passionately willing to get his way with the means available to him. He slips down, kneeling beside the bed to be eye-level with Ven’s teary eyes. He reaches out with his own hand, wiping the tears away in the quiet, making him cry even more.

Panicking, Ven moves away to the other side of the bed, taking the blanket with him. He was forcing himself to stop crying, willing his eyes closed in hopes that it would stop. But nothing he did could make him stop crying, it poured and slipped through his eyelids and he knew he’s going to have to cry it out.

Vanitas takes the space on the bed, reaching out once more to cup Ven’s face into his hands. “Come here.”

It was as if the words he spoke were a ‘pause’ button. It made Ven stare at him in shock, his mouth gaping and his eyes wide. “W-what…?”

“You heard me.” Vanitas sighs and shakes his head, he scoots closer and slips his arm around Ven’s torso, pulling him closer to his chest.

“V-Vanitas…—“Ven hesitates, feeling himself pulled closer to him. His face buried over the folds of his shirt, his tears cascading down to the fabric. He tries his best to stop his tears again, knowing that Vanitas doesn’t really like having other body fluids on his shirt at 18. Especially his.

“It’s fine.” He runs his fingers through his hair, pulling him into a tighter embrace. Ven scoots closer, until he’s sobbing into his chest, his hand grabbing a handful of his shirt as he lets go of himself. He wails with hot tears, his pain evident with every sob; his entire body shook and all Vanitas could do was hold him closer.

“I’ll come back to you, Ven. I promise.”