he just showed up one day
in jeans and hoodie, hood pulled out over coat.
y/n was getting drunk in pjs.
"who do you want to win?"
no need for hello when someone runs through your mind all the time.
after everything, he has not forgotten her. softness he holds for her, still was here after all this time in his stare. if things were different, if they were different people, if world and life was little easier to navigate, who knows if he would ever have to sell his heart for half a price.
quickly he remembers why he came. suddenly its urgent to tell her his thoughts; there is not enough time; they will notice he is missing; world needs to move on on its own accord and there is not much we could do, but same world praises his actions as if he is some history maker, well let him be an artist and use it to paint history in colors of her liking. and if the world gets angry, let it go down in its anger. at least she will smile. and that is enough.
"if you cheer for them, i will play so they win. if you want me, i will win for you"
it's this out of blue visits and texts that occure in dead of night that make her glad to be alive. because she is human. she is selfish.
love is luxury. it needs dark to shine. it needs darkness because it is not for everyone to indulge in it's light. that's why we hide it. to preserve the warmth and glamor of feeling special when touched by it's diamond blades.
everybody wants him,
but he still only thinks of her.
y/n takes a gulp and smiles at him conspiratorially.
there is rain in his hair, blush in his face, all the history laid bare in space heavy with breaths so they wouldn't have to talk about it.
one smile and his hands, cold from north climate he is not used to so he never carries gloves, are grabbing her face into kiss of all the missing dreamed of forevers, that won't change much on precipice they were left to stare each other, but will determine news reports all over the world in days to come.
