Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
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JANUARY SIXTH, TWO THOUSAND AND THIRTEEN
07:13 in the morning.
WARMTH ENCAPSULATED OUR beloved protagonist. Bathed in sunlight, a lazy sense of melting washed over Sora. His eyes fluttered open, and his mind slowly registered the bodies around him...the heat exuding off their skins. Arms were thrown over him, and legs were tangled with his.
Sora's gaze swept over the bed.
Kunimi was still curled up by his side, his head resting on his chest, soft breaths fanning his neck in rhythmic patterns.
Kindaichi was on his other side, facing Kunimi. His hair tickled Sora's chin, but the boy could not bring himself to do anything about it, not when Kindaichi's facial features relaxed, tension dissipating. Memories of a longed past appeared in his mind, and oh, how nostalgia killed him. In that moment of time, Sora understood how, be it good or bad, those fond memories seemed to make him feel a little bit emptier. Even when his younger soulmates were around him.
He tilted his head to the side.
Another's arm was on his bare torso, fingers idly shifting here and there, tracing his skin.
Sora recognised those fingers as Oikawa's. He watched as the older setter curled into their youngest soulmate, his head leaning on Kunimi's, his front pressed against his back. Those fluffy tousles of brown locks fell flat against Oikawa's face, slowly moving with each rise and fall of his shirt-clad chest.
Sora looked to his other side.
Iwaizumi laid flat on his back, limbs sprawled out against the mattress. His lips parted, shallow snores slipping past peacefully. Sora couldn't help but notice how Iwaizumi's legs touched his own, the gentle graze of cold toes along his calves. A smile curled at the corner of his lips. Iwaizumi, with all that muscle mass, was always freezing in bed; it was quite similar to Kageyama, who always curled into him for warmth when they slept together.
Sora's eyes softened as they studied his sleeping soulmates. He knew, then and there, there was very little he wouldn't do for them.
Amber and marigold blessed the room. Wisps twirled through the air, blown gently by the air conditioner's cool breeze. Sora was immersed in this precious, silent scene. Hushed breaths and feather-like touches.
Even in their sleep, they were still in love.
The sun watched them happily.
But the moon, oh, she watched forlornly, for she knew her child's saddest secrets.
━━━━ ♔ • ♛ • ♔ ━━━━
Waking up was a peaceful matter for the four other soulmates. Sleepy eyes opened, and their gazes, laced with fatigue, scanned the room. One presence was missing, a cold, empty echo of what should have been holding them tightly in a warm, protective embrace.
