#mitsouparker

Goshiki blinked. Took a hesitant step forward, just a little bit. Shirabu didn’t react. Didn’t even raise his head as his fingers curled in, nails biting back into his palms. He looked so small like that, fragile, all the anger gone in a rush, leaving behind someone too small for their skin, for what they’d tried to build themself up to be. “All I can think are these- these horrible, selfish things. That it’s okay to die and leave you. That I don’t matter to you. That, no matter what, I’ll never be good enough, so what’s the fucking point. You say you love me. So what? You wouldn’t be the first, and you certainly won’t be the last. But there’s… fuck, there’s no one else like you, and all I-”

His voice cracked, wobbling as his head rose, tears brimming in his amber eyes, streaking his cheeks as he swallowed hard, shook his head. “All I can do is hurt you, over and over and fucking over, and I just- I hate it, okay? I hate it, and myself, and I wish I’d never been born so that way I could stop fucking hurting you. I don’t know how to show you I love you. I don’t know how to express things easily, and I’m trying, I’m trying so fucking hard, but right now-”

“Right now it feels impossible, doesn’t it?” Goshiki said softly, his voice no stronger than Shirabu’s. His boyfriend nodded, lips trembling. Goshiki took another step in. Shirabu took one back. Another step forward. Shirabu didn’t move. He didn’t draw away, even when Goshiki was right on top of him, their bodies centimeters apart. Goshiki reached out, took Shirabu’s right hand into his. Slowly loosened those fingers one by one, wincing when he saw the blood that caked his nails, that beaded up on his palm. But he tangled their fingers together and reached for the his left hand, a mirror to the other, and slowly loosened the fingers there too.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I know it’s- not even just hard. The most difficult thing you can ever do. After everything you’ve been through…” The scars were still there, vicious, visceral reminders of everything that he had gone through. One right on his face, inescapable, forever marring the otherwise soft features and drawing eyes to the stark line that passed across one eye and down his cheek.

Goshiki’s fingers tightened, squeezed Shirabu’s. He could feel the roughness of his palms, the slick of blood. He held on for dear life. Leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, eyes fluttering shut. “I love you, Kenjirou. More than you could ever imagine,” he breathed, “And I know it’ll take a long time to convince you that you’re safe, that it’s okay, that things are better, but it’s happening. I can see it. It’s hard for you because you keep seeing the worst of it, you keep seeing all the faults and flaws, but-” Goshiki slipped one hand away, discreetly wiped it on his jeans, and raised his fingers, pressed them to Shirabu’s neck. Right over a hairline scar, only visible because of how dark it was.

“You’re not there anymore. You’re here,” he whispered. “Things are getting better, and I don’t care how many times I have to say it, but I’ll tell you the truth every second of every day if you ask me to. How beautiful and strong and kind you are. How you mean the absolute world to me. How you make me feel, even when we’re fighting-” Because, even when things were at their worst, it was still Shirabu, and no matter how much he lashed out, how angry he got, there was always good reason behind it, and he had gotten so much better about reigning it in. Sure, the remarks stung and the yelling left Goshiki numb for a while, but he understood, and Shirabu, when all was said and done, never seemed to think he could apologize enough.

“I don’t want to be like them. I want to be better. I have to be better.”

“You are better,” he whispered, almost to himself, “So much better than they ever will be. And you’re only going to get better.”

Shirabu sniffed faintly, shook his head. “No… I keep being such a huge piece of shit to you. I make you feel terrible.”

“You make me feel like the happiest man on Earth,” Goshiki said, voice stronger, “So what if we fight, if hurtful things are said? We can’t make each other happy all the time. We’re going to hurt each other - it’s inevitable. But that won’t change the fact that you mean the absolute world to me, whether you like it or not.”

Shirabu shivered, but he nodded after a long moment and shifted, buried his face into Goshiki’s shoulder. “I’m sorry…” he whispered.

Goshiki slipped his clean hand around Shirabu, pulled him into a tight hug. “I know. And I accept your apology. I love you.”