𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞, 𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

drunk words

Sanemi holds Giyuu close, assisting him as they climb the many stairs to Giyuu's apartment. His movements are clumsy, gripping Sanemi as he approaches the front door. He fumbles with his eyes, looking at them with confused eyes as he attempts to figure out which one is correct. Sanemi chuckles, taking the keys and fishing out the correct one. Giyuu smiles, taking them back as he insists that he opens the door for Sanemi.

Despite Giyuu's drunken behaviour, he remains a gentleman to Sanemi. He unlocks the door and opens it to reveal the comforting warmth his apartment holds. The alcohol running through Giyuu's system stimulates that feeling of heat, but the lack of liquid in Sanemi means he feels the winter's freezing air. Giyuu steps aside, allowing Sanemi to enter his place first before stumbling behind him.

"I'm so tired," Giyuu manages to say, chuckling when he loses his balance and falls into the wall. Sanemi smiles, locking the door before directing Giyuu to his bedroom. He pushes the bedroom door open, the dimly lit room remaining in the same state as the past few weeks.

Depression takes that motivation away. And with the sudden drop in Giyuu's mental health, his room hasn't seen the light of day in a while. Sanemi disregards the mess, understanding the struggles of maintaining a clean space consistently. He focuses on Giyuu, ensuring he doesn't fall or break anything.

Giyuu sighs dramatically, pulling his shirt over his head and disregarding it onto the pile of other dirty clothing items. Sanemi looks away for a moment, a blush tinting his cheeks at the sight of Giyuu's bare torso. He's toned, with indentations when his muscles sit and unmarked skin. His body is clean, flawless and perfect. So different to Sanemi's. Without much thought to the others in the room, Giyuu flicks on the light. His room illuminates with the golden hues from the bulb, hidden parts of the interior becoming visible with the new light source.

Sanemi takes this time to admire Giyuu's space, wondering what else in Giyuu's apartment he hasn't seen. Though, the brighter light doesn't only expose Giyuu's room. Sanemi moves his eyes to Giyuu, watching him dig through endless piles of shirts. He allows his eyes to wander. Following Giyuu's natural movements, watching him walk back and forth from different parts of his room as he sorts a few things out. His arms are toned. They're nothing bulky but sit in proportion with the rest of his body.

While Sanemi eyes Giyuu, he focuses on the scars. He remembers catching a glimpse of them before their weekend away, the pit of his stomach sinking. However, when Giyuu turns to reveal his left arm, Sanemi notices fresh cuts neatly lining Giyuu's skin.

Sanemi creeps closer, the cuts showing more detail with each step. "Giyuu," He says, his voice soft. Giyuu turns his head to look at Sanemi, his eyes darting around Sanemi's features. He frowns.

"Your eyes are sad," Giyuu says, furrowing his eyebrows while turning to face Sanemi. "Why are they sad?" He cups Sanemi's cheek, the blue in his eyes fading as they fail to see the fields of lavender in Sanemi's. "Are you okay?" Sanemi doesn't respond. Instead, he gently takes Giyuu's wrist and traces his thumb over the broken skin. "Oh,"

"Giyuu. Did you do this to yourself?" Sanemi's eyes don't meet Giyuu's. They remain on Giyuu's arm, his thumb brushing the wounds with so much delicacy. A deafening silence fills the room, excluding passing cars and Giyuu's heavy breaths. "Giyuu," Sanemi repeats his name, bringing him back to reality after watching him stare at his arm. "Talk to me,"

Giyuu pulls his arm away from Sanemi, a broken laugh escaping his lips. "Talk to you?" He says, swallowing the developing lump in his throat. "I don't need to talk. I'm doing great," The lie is evident, and Giyuu knows Sanemi won't buy it. But he attempts it anyway. It's a special day for Sanemi, and Giyuu doesn't want to ruin it with his shitty habits and plummeting mental health. "Besides," Giyuu continues, trying to lighten the mood with a smile. "These are old. I don't do it anymore," He lies again.