Safe Landing [June 7th] [Fujibato] [Kobato]
Title :: Safe Landing
Theme :: June 7th, “roses can sprout in the concrete streets” [31_days]
Pairing :: Fujibato
Rating/Warnings :: G; spoilery for the latest drops.
Wordcount :: 200
Summary :: And he suddenly feels everything in him stop.
Notes :: FOR MY DEAREST KAYCE-TAN, AKA sandy_rain~! ♥♥♥
There’s a burn in his legs and sweat trickling down his back and a funny twist somewhere between his chest and his gut; and he thinks, briefly, This is ridiculous before opening his mouth to yell.
And then he sees her, really sees her, and he suddenly feels everything in him stop.
He’d forgotten, really, what it was like to be faced with something so delicate, something breaking and fixable all at once. (Too long around children and debt-collectors and women who only walled themselves away, and he’d forgotten what it was like to have the luxury to reach out, to protect.)
She is crying, open and unashamed, and he is quiet despite it all.
And when her red-rimmed eyes and the taut lines of her limbs reiterate I need you, he can’t bring himself to argue.
(He can’t turn his back any more than she can, and it is that knowledge more than anything that softens him as he folds her in. And it’s only when she breathes against his shirt that he finds his own second wind.)
I’ll stay, he doesn’t say, doesn’t promise, but he still thinks she hears.
(But just in case, he won’t let go.)
Theme :: June 7th, “roses can sprout in the concrete streets” [31_days]
Pairing :: Fujibato
Rating/Warnings :: G; spoilery for the latest drops.
Wordcount :: 200
Summary :: And he suddenly feels everything in him stop.
Notes :: FOR MY DEAREST KAYCE-TAN, AKA sandy_rain~! ♥♥♥
There’s a burn in his legs and sweat trickling down his back and a funny twist somewhere between his chest and his gut; and he thinks, briefly, This is ridiculous before opening his mouth to yell.
And then he sees her, really sees her, and he suddenly feels everything in him stop.
He’d forgotten, really, what it was like to be faced with something so delicate, something breaking and fixable all at once. (Too long around children and debt-collectors and women who only walled themselves away, and he’d forgotten what it was like to have the luxury to reach out, to protect.)
She is crying, open and unashamed, and he is quiet despite it all.
And when her red-rimmed eyes and the taut lines of her limbs reiterate I need you, he can’t bring himself to argue.
(He can’t turn his back any more than she can, and it is that knowledge more than anything that softens him as he folds her in. And it’s only when she breathes against his shirt that he finds his own second wind.)
I’ll stay, he doesn’t say, doesn’t promise, but he still thinks she hears.
(But just in case, he won’t let go.)