the way we work

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"Hey, Shuu," I called out.

The train was fairly empty, spare the two of us and the few people commuting home after working overtime.

"What is it?", Shuu asked, turning his head to face mine.

"I have no idea," I shook my head, looking blankly in front of me, "Kinda just blank... wrong?"

Shuu put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him.

"You don't always have to know what's wrong, just knowing that something's wrong is good enough. You can tell me if you want, or maybe another time when you've got the big picture."

I sighed, leaning my head on his shoulder, "Maybe when we get home."

"Okay," Shuu nodded, tightening his hold on my shoulder, "I'll always be there to listen."

"I'll always be there to talk."

"But when I need to talk...,"

"I'll be there to listen. That's how we work."

"I like how we work," Shuu said, planting a kiss on the side of my head.

"Me too," I took hold of his unoccupied hand, kissing the back of it.

The way we work... I like it. 

The subtle displays of affection, the undeniable trust we have built over the years of being friends, the endless support each of us give and receive. 

It's almost like heaven on this simulation of hell called earth. 

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