"have you ever been in love?"

twenty-four

he sighs. "do you wanna talk about it?"

"no," i say grumpily as i push past him, kicking off my shoes. it's been a long time since i spent the night at his place, but i know exactly where everything is and how he likes his apartment, so before entering i end up carefully setting my shoes aside. after, i storm to the living room and grab the best pillow — he always hides it in the corner so he can grab it before others can, but i know him too well, so i get best-pillow-privilege.

he appears, standing at the door to the living room, watching me as he crosses his arms. i bury my face in the pillow, trying to escape it.

"you came awfully far to not talk about it."

"i hate you," i grumble, throwing the pillow at him. he catches it with ease and grins, throwing it right back. i pout angrily. stupid iwa-chan and his gestures of good will.

"i didn't exactly prepare for guests."

"what, planning on bringing someone over tonight?"

he averts his gaze. "no." he starts to walk towards the kitchen. "it means i don't have enough food and probably not enough alcohol to sustain your needs."

"i'll go to the supermarket," i groan. his laugh sounds from the kitchen.

"don't worry. we'll go together. i'll get you milk bread."

"no, let m—"

"tooru, there's obviously something wrong. we'll go together, make you all of your favourite food and get you drunk enough to maybe tell me what's going on in that crazy life of yours."

i look up to meet stern but friendly eyes. that's my best friend, and he never fails to know what to do when i'm absolutely, hopelessly lost. and he knows just the look that will get me to accept it.

"you called me tooru," i say, staring at him blankly.

"i call you tooru all the time," he replies, raising an eyebrow.

"i know, i just... i don't know," i mumble, and he laughs. i glare at him, but there's not much anger behind it, which he can sense. of course he can. he always can. he knows me through and through.