Friends With Benefits | Chishiya x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Three

☆ In which you learn a number of things, and have quite a few questions as a result. ☆

Tonight the moon has waned to a glowing crescent, a quiet reminder of the passing of time. 

One of your hands is cold, resting on the rooftop ledge; the other is warm, tangled with one of Chishiya's. The blonde next to you is now in one of his more unfocused states - when you turn your head to look at him, his eyes are lost beyond the tops of the sparkling Tokyo buildings. The silence that is settled between the two of you is not uncomfortable, and yet you are reminded of the earlier days when coaxing a conversation out of Chishiya was similar to milking blood from a stone. 

Following Chishiya's example, you gaze out ahead. The neon lights blink at their familiar intervals from the distance, and you run a thumb over the back of his hand fondly.  By now you have this view memorised, as well as the feeling of Chishiya by your side that you've come to know so well.

It could've been by cause of your reminiscent state that the words come suddenly to your lips, as if they were written prophetically in the twinkling stars above. They form on the tip of your tongue like crystals and spill like cut diamonds. "I'm glad I met you, Chishiya," you say, almost conversationally. Chishiya returns from his haze to look at you quizzically, and you grin. The words of Star Destiny surprise you, but you have told no lie. The moon sculpts pearlescent light at the edges of his features. "There's no need to look at me like that! It's true." 

Far from seeming reassured, Chishiya makes a rather weird face, the expression of someone struggling with some kind of internal conflict. You laugh, and swing his hands. "It's alright," you say, amused. "You don't have to say you were glad to have met me as well. I know what you're like."

At this, Chishiya gives a short laugh. "I'm not surprised," he says, and the smirk he gives you seems to be bordering on a smile. "I would've been glad to meet me too." 

You raise a brow. "You know, I'm not above pushing you off the roof."

He chuckles, and you give him a Pretending To Be Annoyed Face as he slides his thumb across the side of your hand in response. The quiet tiptoes back in, and instead of retreating back into his head as you had expected him to, his eyes stay on you. Although you have turned away you are not unaware of Chishiya studying you, as if searching intensely for something that could only be found hidden in the planes of your face. 

The blatant staring continues for a while, and you begin to wonder if you are really that magnetic or whether he might be having a stroke. 

You turn abruptly back to face him to address the possible medical emergency, but Chishiya cuts you off. The expression he makes has an uncanny resemblance to the face one would make after being recently stabbed in the arm, but even so he reluctantly opens his mouth to impart his words of wisdom. 

"Listen closely," he says firmly. The man looks the epitome of uncomfortable as he speaks, and you wonder if you should be alarmed. "I don't have a favourite colour." 

You blink, taken aback. "Ah," is the only thing you can think of to reply. You are unsure of how the conversation has progressed to this point; the man revealing his lack of colour preference was hardly something he needed to look so shifty about. Perhaps he is speaking in code, or something equally strange. Or maybe, he is conversing not with you, but with a ghost.

Quite a stretch, but not entirely impossible.

But isn't it always the intelligent people that go insane first? you speculate. And developing a sudden talent for clairvoyance certainly would make one uncomfortable. 

"There was no point in caring about something as trivial as that," he continues, ignoring your consideration of his descent into lunacy. The tone of Excruciating Pain in his voice lessens to more of a Rather Awkward, something you didn't even realise Chishiya could sound like. The words in his eyes are clear enough to be tangible: don't ask any questions or I may have to kill the both of us out of sheer embarrassment. "At some point I said I liked white, but the number of times the response I got was, 'that's a shade, not a colour' was enough for me to lose the last of my will to say anything at all." You snort, despite your bewilderment. "Although, now that I think about it, blue is becoming rather a nice colour."