Chapter Text
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The chill of midnight had set into Fumikage's room as we huddled together in his nest of soft blankets. I felt his chuckle reverberate in my chest as a predictable jumpscare blared across the TV's screen. We had this weekly tradition; him and I would cuddle close in a nest of blankets in his room, watching cheesy B-rated horror movies. I laughed myself as I watched the heroine scream as the killer approached slowly, giving her a window of time that was definitely enough to run. The night was calm and pleasant, the simple comfort of each other's presence encasing us in friendly warmth. It was easy to breathe when we were together. I smiled as I shifted to lay my head upon his shoulder, and without a moment's pause he wrapped his arm around me. I felt my eyes and mind grow heavy and tired, and I leaned closer. Feeling safe to do so for the first time in a long time, I let my eyes slide shut next to someone.
I awoke to a dark room, save his crescent moon nightlight across from his bed. I felt a steady heartbeat below my face, and shifted my gaze. Outlined by the minimal moonlight, Fumikage was sleeping peacefully beneath me. I had my head laid on his chest, his arms wrapped around me, and a soft black blanket pulled to my shoulders. I felt my heart thrum as I looked at his resting face, calm and beautiful in the moonlight's shine. Reaching slowly as not to wake him, I ran my palm and fingers through his feathers, watching as he leaned into my hand. I realized in that moment, more than I had in any of our moment's before, how much I wanted this to be my forever. Soft tears fell freely as I grinned and buried my face back into his chest, his heartbeat lulling me into the sweetest slumber I'd ever experienced.
Sunlight pierced through my closed eyes, stirring me from sleep. I went to arise from where I lay, only to have arms restrict me into place. Fumikage was still asleep. I giggled quietly as I peeled his arms off of me, setting them back down as gently as I could. I climbed out of the warmth of his bed, my bare feet setting themselves upon the dark purple rug on his floor. Pulling his blanket up to his shoulders, I paused for a moment to look at him. Fumikage was a gentle soul, one of quiet presence and beautiful mind. It was easy to lose oneself in the comfort of his presence and poetry of his words. I leaned down and laid the gentlest kiss I could on his forehead, not wanting to stir him. I hoped he was dreaming of something sweet.
I returned to his room soon after leaving, coffee in hand. The gentle click of his door behind me made him turn to his side, and I froze for a moment. After I realized he was still asleep, I walked quietly to his bedside, leaving his mug on the table next to him. I sat on his bed, staring out the window for a good long while, sipping on my coffee. I watched the sun rise and heard the songs of birds begin waking the world. Contentment had seeped into my bones, replacing the long-there bitterness that had ruled me. I smiled as I watched the sun rays dip and dance on his floorboards. Eventually, I heard him rustle and groan, and felt the bed shift. I looked behind me and the smile on my face widened ten-fold as I saw his feathers stick up and out of place. His eyes looked to me, and for a moment I could have sworn I saw surprise and shock. But a soft grin soon replaced any evidence as he moved to sit next to me.
"Good morning, Y/n."
"Good morning, Fumikage."
We stared at each other for a moment, and I felt something click deep inside. As if I had found an answer to an unspoken question. I shook it off as I grabbed his mug and handed it to him, a shock ringing through my fingertips as they brushed against his. I watched intently as I saw his eyes flick between the mug and me. "You made me coffee?" I felt warmth blossom in my cheeks at the smile that grew on him. "Thank you."
We sat in silence for a while, listening to the earth come alive outside. The sun lit up his usually dark room, and it stirred something in me to be able to see his room like this. To be able to see it in the morning, in the time when it was usually his and his alone. I got to share it with him. I felt something wrap around my waist and I looked down, giddy happiness in my heart as I saw Dark Shadow curled around me and resting in my lap. I laughed softly as I rested a hand on his head, my voice coming out quiet as I spoke, "Good morning, Dark Shadow." He didn't respond, in favor of simply purring contently. I chuckled and looked to Fumikage, my blood running hot at the affection in his eyes as he looked at me. I moved my eyes away, choosing to stare at the rug to hide my ever-growing red cheeks.
Eventually, Dark Shadow returned to Fumikage's body and we finished our coffee. With our mugs on the bedside table and our bodies lazily laying against the wall, we stayed in the morning's silence. Suddenly, the calm environment started simmering as I felt Fumikage's eyes on me. I turned my head to face him and my breath escaped me. He was staring straight at me, his eyes swimming with an emotion I couldn't place but could feel. It was a fire swimming through me, and I had to look away. But just as I turned away, I felt his hand reach the skin of my face. The electricity between us shook through me and I shuttered. With gentle movements, he turned my face back towards him, his skin barely kissing mine. His mouth moved, as if to say something, but all that came was silence. However, he need not say a word. Because as I stared into his eyes, and he stared into mine, I felt whatever was between us grow. It bloomed and danced in the morning sunlight, gliding on the air and catching the words from our lips. And so I smiled, laughing lightly, and leaned into the palm of his callused hand. He seemed to understand it too, as he laughed in return and brushed a thumb over the rise of my cheek.
I'm not sure how long we stayed like that, him and I. Long enough for the sun to climb high in the sky and for our classmates to rouse from their restful weekend sleep. Long enough for an appropriate breakfast time to have came and went, and long enough to where lunch soon would be approaching. Slowly, almost sadly, his hand retracted from me and he went to stand. "Would you like something to eat, dove?" The world seemed to hush when his voice broke through, all of creation pausing in awe to wonder at his words, no matter what it was he said. I raised my hand to reach for his outstretched one, eyes never losing their place in his. "That sounds nice, yes."
We wandered the halls, hand in hand, the sweet smell of flowers drifting in from somewhere. As we approached the empty kitchen, soft piano came floating in. I turned my head to see, to wonder, where it had came from. But I had no time to discover as I felt his arm wrap around me. "Care for a dance first, mon cher?" I laughed as he pulled me into a slow waltz, feeling light as spring air. I had waited a long, long time for this. A love like spring. And so we waltz and dipped and glided in the empty kitchen, our laughs the harmony to the music. As our dance came to an end, I realized that soft piano had not been piano. It had been the thrum of our hearts and the patter of our feet on the ground. I smiled.
We spent the day's hours in Fumikage's room, eating and laughing and laying in peace. By dusk, we were lounging in his bed again, my head in his lap as he brushed his fingers through my hair. He was gentle, careful to never tug. I felt something different stir in my heart as I laid there, my eyes shut peacefully. I thought about how he treated me- how he spoke to me, how he held me. He spoke to me as one would to a beloved royal, with utmost respect, dignity, and care. He knew my strength and did not waver in the face of it, but rather embraced and encouraged it. But when he held me, he held me with the softness and gentleness of someone holding glass, or a flower. He was careful not to break me; careful not to wilt my petals. When he caressed my face, his skin was but a whisper, never raising to a shout. When he ran his fingers through my hair, if he caught a knot, he was careful to retract his fingers, setting them someplace new. When he- if he ever- kissed me, I imagined it would be but a breeze on my lips. I remembered our night, how gently he had placed his arm around me, holding me as one would hold water.
I felt a tear roll from my eyes as I laid there in thought. And I felt his fingers, softly as always, brush it away. "What plagues you, querida?" The way his voice rumbled in my chest and grounded me pulled more thankful tears from my eyes. Even more so, his flowered words and phrasing made me melt into him. "Nothing, Fumi. Not a thing." I opened my eyes and looked up at him, and I felt all words drift away on the wind at the sight I beheld. An angel, encased in the sun's dying light, looking down upon me. I felt I should pray, should cry out to the heavens above as I laid in the embrace of one of its most beautiful children. I wanted to paint him in that moment, to capture even an ounce of the divinity displayed in front of me. But I knew it would be in vain; I would spend eternity trying to capture the color of the glow on his feathers, the depth of his eyes, the texture of his skin. I knew nothing I could paint would ever measure to the image that was burned into my mind's eye. So I wept, smiling, as I leaned to place my face to his. "You are divinity incarnate, Fumikage Tokoyami. I am only weeping for you." His quiet breath did not escape my ears as he leaned into me, wrapping me in his arms. "Oh, cara mia."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, and his room began to melt into that familiar darkness, I felt the urge to stay. To stay just like this, forever. To die encased in his arms, and allow my body to decay and rot in his embrace. To allow my bones to become mixed and muddled with his, and to allow our bodies to become fertilizer to a forest that rivaled the likes of Eden. I wanted to dip into the quiet holding of eternity with him. And by the Gods above, I believe he wanted that as well as he laid our bodies down, trapping me beneath him. I believe he did, and that he felt the urge to let flowers grow between our ribs as he laid his head on my chest and allowed me to hold his head gently, my fingers threaded between his feathers. By the Gods, I believe he did, as he lulled me to sleep with his beautiful voice, whispering:
"Sleep well, mon amour."
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