𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

XIV - Acceptance

♥︎•♥︎

His skin was warm against yours, and his scent was oh so familiar.

You felt a irritable warmth on your face. The sun was bothersome this early. Especially considering how fatigued you has been lately.
Rolling over, his sleepy face met yours.
"FUCK!"
Sakusa's eyes fluttered open in a daze as you
sprawled out of his bed.
"KIYO WHAT THE FUCK?!" you exclaimed.
He raised an eyebrow, picking his chin up slowly. "It's too early for your horrid voice."
Your mind was a mess, last night was a blur.
What had happened?
How the hell did you end up in HERE.
In Sakusa Kiyoomi's bed?
Or was he in yours?
"No, no, no, no, no I didn't- he wouldn't-"
your mind chanted those words.

A soft chuckle left his lips.
Quite unlike him to be so unbothered in this scenario. He collapsed back onto his pillow.
"Don't get the wrong idea stalker-"
"WRONG IDEA? LOOK AT US!" you yelled.
he groaned.
You hesitated. "Did we-"

"What do you take me for? Do you not remember anything from last night?!"               he scolded, shuddering at the thought.

Smacking the side of your head in frustration, your memories flooded back to you.

Last night's air was damp and cold.
Sakusa's doorstep was surrounded by a lethal amount of tension. He blinked, as if he was taken aback by it all, questioning life itself.
"Wow." he whispered.
You laughed through tears.
"I feel a whole lot lighter letting that out."
A noticeable lump rested in Sakusa's throat.
His hands were clammy, rubbing against each other frantically as his curls hung loosely from his face. "Why?"
His question felt grave.
"What do you mean?" you'd ask.
"Why love one who doesn't return the favor?"
You scoffed.

"Love isn't a favor, it's a feeling. You don't owe anyone your love, and nobody can fully handle their own emotions." you explained.

You coughed, one that made your throat feel as if it was tearing apart. Grasping at it desperately with your hands, you watched Sakusa's horrified face morph into panic.
He patted your back profusely until a delicate pink rose along with spit and blood rested upon your palm. Unlike the many other flowers you had coughed up, the rose was in perfect condition. Despite the circumstances, not a drop of blood on its petals, not a petal out of place. Even the colors blossomed perfectly. It rested in your palm like a ray of hope. Unusually comforting even.