#rikster

as you looked at his features under the soft glow of the hallway's light, though, you saw that some things never changed. his hair, the bleached blonde he'd dyed it months ago, remained on full display, just like the chrome hearts rings and baggy clothes he wore along his tall frame.

you remember the day he had dyed it, actually. it had been weeks after you'd stopped speaking to each other; he'd just shown up to campus with it and undercut to complement it. he'd talked about doing it months beforehand with you, even stayed up certain nights showing you pictures of the shade he'd thought about going for. it's funny, how he'd only gone through with it after he stopped being your friend. makes you wonder what else had changed since then.

but as the door swayed open and the scent of vetiver and smoke wafted through the air, you knew for certain some habits, at least, never changed. even the ones you wish he'd kick.

"book's on the table," is all he says, leaving the door open as he steps away, not even taking the time to greet you properly.

ouch, you think. based on the cold intro, the average person would have never guessed you and riki were long-term friends. but contrary to that belief, the man whose eyes couldn't be bothered to meet yours once looked at you with adoration. his eyes were kinder then, his voice gentler. outside of that.....he still carried himself the same. but you knew the truth. no matter how much he looked, seemed, or felt like it, the man who walked with the same air of nonchalance was not the same one you'd been friends with for years.

"thanks," you squeak out, trying to convince yourself that his tone, actions, and general indifference don't bother you. after all, it had been the only thing you came for, right? the book.

so with a huff, you stepped into his apartment.

it feels strange, being back there. the very room that once brought you comfort all those years now feels unfamiliar.

had it always been so dark there? the room is dimly lit, with big black curtains drawn along the windows behind the couch. the blankets that lie across the seats were the same color, matching so well with his rug, you almost couldn't tell where they both ended. he'd always adored the color, so you suppose it had always been this way. never seemed to notice it between the late-night ice cream runs or when you'd come back with bags of dried ramen. no, those memories felt far too bright for this place.

your eyes continue to float around the room you once thought you knew so well, as if looking for any more changes. you notice only a few; his bookshelf is a few editions lighter, consisting of mainly manga now, based on the looks of it. the furniture has been moved around in a more traditional sense, no longer hugging the corners and edges of the living room, no. they now sit dead center.

you wonder if he still dances. it's the reason why he'd move the furniture out of the way in the first place. that, plus when you'd attempt to join him and play just dance with him on weekends. you hope it's a hobby he kept; it always seemed to make him happy.

ignoring the sting in your chest, your eyes seem to find the much bigger changes now. the wall next to the kitchen, which previously sported a great big tapestry, now remained empty, a dull shade of white like all the rest in the room.

this time, however, you can't seem to ignore the pang in your chest. you had gotten him that tapestry (black with a duck meme on it) as a gag gift years prior; and he'd loved it. you suppose you didn't expect him to keep it up after everything that's happened but...seeing it gone; a piece of you gone from his space hurts more than you thought it would.

upon falling from the blank wall, your eyes finally land on it. the book, your old one you'd taken notes in, and had been meaning to get for months. it sits prettily along the dining room table, just as riki said it would.

it's what you came for, but the second it's in your hands, you feel your heart drop.

because this really may be the end.

a week ago, you were surprised he'd even answered when you messaged him. thought for sure he'd had your number blocked with how swiftly he ignored you on campus. but no, he'd responded only minutes after you'd explained you'd needed them for an upcoming test for the end of your course. he'd told you to come pick it up whenever, just to let him know beforehand that you were coming.

so you did, spent the entire week nervous about what to do, to wear, and how to act when you'd gotten here. you'd wondered what you'd talk about, if anything, at all. spent the days running through scenarios and the possibilities of what could happen upon finally seeing your old best friend again. would you talk about your friendship? how did you two get to that point? maybe even....grow close again?

and now....you were here, and all the colorful possibilities that you thought could happen...simply hadn't. and as the stark reality of the situation set in, you felt the weight of the book in your hands grow heavier.

because once you grabbed it and left, there'd be nothing else. no other tether or line keeping you to him. no other reason to text him out of the blue. no other reason to....come back.

so as you stood under the dim light of the living room, you knew you had to do something. anything than just walk out of his life.

"thanks again, riki." you reiterate, turning to face the blonde who sits comfortably on the couch, his eyes trained on the screen. "i uh, really appreciate it."

"uh-huh." he responds, not even bothering to look away from the television as he speaks. his hands rest along the handles of a gaming controller, which he slowly places to the side along the arm of the couch.

you think he's about to stand up afterwards, but he simply leans over to the coffee table to reach for a lit joint, and places it between his lips. he doesn't say much after that, nothing at all in fact. simply closes his eyes and leans back into the couch, taking in the pleasure from the hit as he lets out a low, smoky breath.

based on his silence, you're sure he's expecting you to leave. but even with the book in your hand, your feet can't seem to move from their position.

so you don't even bother trying. instead, you plant them like roots, and stand your ground. "i uh...." you start, not entirely sure where you want to go with it. just that you need to say something. "i.....see you went with the blonde."

you nearly wince at your own statement. it's supposed to be a compliment, an acknowledgement of the style. but it feels late; months late, actually.

riki's eyes flicker back open, a soft expression of shock in his features. almost as if remembering you're still there; that you haven't left his apartment yet. "yeah," he breathes again, lighter wisps of smoke leaving his lips. "i did."

"it looks nice," you say, even if it is too late. and despite the embarrassment in your chest, you can't stop yourself from speaking to him. because you truly don't know if it'll be the last chance you get too. "and i always used to say it'd wash you out." you add jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

he bites his lip, turning his head so that his gaze rests on you. "you sure did." is all he says, before he turns back to the television.

the short responses absolutely kill you inside, but you continue to talk anyway. you'd known riki for years, shared disagreements and stubborn attitudes. you knew exactly which buttons to push to upset him and he, yours. it wasn't the first time he'd given you sass, and you know he'd crack eventually.

"guess i was wrong," you say with a smile, and a slightly awkward chuckle leaves your lips. "guess things change."

his gaze lands on you again, this time sharper, with sprinkles of annoyance. it lingers there for a while, as if studying your disposition. then, quietly, and laced with an unmistakable ring of truth, he speaks again. "yeah," he agrees, nodding slowly. "things do change."

you nearly stiffen as his eyes float back to the television. who knew one word, spoken in such a tone, could carry so much weight? could hurt so much?

the burning sensation in your chest continues to spread, but you don't give in to it. not when your friendship is on the line. so instead of focusing on all of the differences you've noticed, you look for something familiar to bond over, anything at all.

and you're in luck, because as he picks up the gaming controller again, your eyes follow his to the pixelated animal on the screen. "oh, crash bandicoot!" you say, a smile, though softer, still on your face. "you still play, huh?"

it was the one game you'd always be better than him at. he'd always try to collect more wumpa fruit than you, and beat your high score, only to fall short every time. "yup," he responds, flicking the controls of the remote diligently until one of them took him to the menu. "was just about to turn it off."

"oh," you start, shocked by his blunt response. usually, he'd crack by now. when he was your friend, he'd never been able to stay so nonchalant with you for so long. when he was your friend, he'd never left you feeling so cold. "okay, well i just-"

"(y/n)," he interrupts, his tone dipping like the light from the screen as the game system began to shut down. "other than the book, is there anything else you need?"

you shrug, unsure of what to say, yourself. yes, you'd techinally gotten what you came for, but couldn't shake the feeling that something was still missing. he didn't owe you anything, really, but you wondered why it stung so bad when he asked you, or why, despite the heat and warmth of smoke that wafted through the room, it felt so cold between you two. or why it was so hard to just say the words i missed you, to the man who once was your best friend.

"i just....." you breathed, looking around the place you'd once called a second home. "just wanted to talk a bit, that's all."

he snorts, then puts the joint between his lips again, as if the very idea is preposterous. "m'kay,"

despite the chill in his voice, the snort is the closest thing you've gotten towards a real breakthrough. so you chase it.

"i did," you say, suddenly feeling a bit more at ease. and when he lets out a huff of smoke, you get an idea. "maybe i came here to smoke some, too."

that causes him to look at you properly now, a blonde brow of his cocked. "oh yeah?"

"mhm," you respond, finally having the courage to move your feet. they take you to the seat of the loveseat right next to the couch riki sits on, and you plop down.

riki lets out another wisp, smaller, thinner due to the way he bites his lip. "mm," he murmurs. "something i can actually help you with, then."

based on his tone, you're sure he thinks you're kidding. and any other day, you would be. you were never much a fan of weed in the first place, and for a while, neither was he. it was something he picked up during your second year on campus and just....never seemed to drop.

but despite your general indifference toward the drug, tonight felt different. it wasn't your hobby, but it was his, and you'd needed something, anything to connect with him over. you needed him to feel like your friend again.

so before you could psych yourself out, you reach over and grab the joint from his fingertips, and brought it to your lips.

big mistake.

because as soon as you breathe in the smoke, the heat that fills your lungs is instant. sends you into a fit of coughing as you hunch over the table for air.

riki reaches over in an instant, patting your back. "(y/n), why would you-" he pauses, letting out a huff that let's you know he's a little more sober-minded. "i can't believe you actually did that."

you lift your head up, finally finding clean air with the help of his back pats. he'd taught you how to smoke when he first started, but that had been ages ago. you hadn't touched a blunt since then, hadn't even expected to, tonight.

he hadn't expected you to, either. not with how he eyes you as he leans back into his spot on the couch. and especially not with how he grabs the joint from your hands, as if he's afraid you'll do something rash again.

but what's done is already done, and the effects of the blunt start to take effect. suddenly your limbs feel heavier, your head searching for the comfort of the cushion as you lean back. you want to sink into the loveseat.

and despite the weight of your body, for a brief moment in time, your heart feels light. you want to laugh. because it's funny. the situation at hand, the coughing, riki's reaction.

or it least, it could have been funny. maybe could have even been a moment of connection between you two. you were almost tempted to make a joke about how he'd probably need to teach you again, but that's when you see it.

his expression, now sobered up by the events of the last few minutes, has hardened. annoyance rests in his features as he presses the lit end of the joint in the ashtray, as if some unknown entitity fucked up his high.

and that's when his gaze returns to you, for (only) the third time tonight. you wish it hadn't. because the expression he wears, riddled with annoyance and resentment, grows further. his eyes, once widened with concern at your coughing, have slimmed to a squint.

as if the expression weren't bad enough, he lets out another low huff, one that screams irritation as he mutters his next words. "shit, (y/n)," he starts. "i really didn't want to have to babysit tonight."

and as the words leave his lips, whatever smile that remained upon your lips falls completely. because of course, he's not your friend anymore, not really. he's just the guy who wanted to enjoy a night to himself, and you're the girl who ruined it all. the girl who still doesn't know how to smoke, and can't handle her own high.

regret fills your stomach, and the bitter taste of shame rests on your tongue. this entire night you'd been trying to get back to him, your best friend, when the reality was clear. with how he'd been brushing you off throughout the entire visit, and the weeks before that, you'd never had any real chance. no, the boy you once knew had been long lost, just like the dark hair he'd sported once, and the silly tapestry he once kept by the kitchen.

your heart grows heavy, and you start to feel the stupid book slip from your grasp. whatever high you'd planned on having passes just as quickly as it comes. because nothing feels remotely funny anymore, and the last place you want to be is in that loveseat.

so it doesn't matter that your legs still feel a bit heavy. not when he'd made it clear throughout the entire time that he doesn't want you there. determined to prove you can in fact get yourself home on your own and do not need to be babysat, you sit up straight in the chair, willing yourself to move.

annoyance floods your own body now. annoyance with yourself, how hard you'd tried to reach him tonight, and how you couldn't ever since you walked into this apartment, your legs have hardly been able to get out of this stupid stuck state.

you feel a burning sensation from behind your eyes. it's useless. you're in no state to drive back home, and as much as you hate to admit it, riki is right.

but even if it is the case, you refuse to be somewhere that you're clearly no longer wanted. so with one hand, you tighten your grip around the book you're holding. and the other reaches into your back pocket for your phone, desperate to call his number before the tears begin to fall.

riki leans over, muttering something about the joint he puts out, but you can't hear a thing. not over his tone and the muffled ringing in your ears. still, the audacity of him mentioning the joint again is enough to send you over the edge, the tears threatening to spill.

"fuck you, riki." you speak, not bothering to look up from your phone as you search for jake's contact. it's the same treatment he'd been giving you all night, so why would it matter if he'd got it back, right?

riki pauses, as if shocked by the sudden outburst. "(y/n), i just don't get why you'd-"

"then forget about it!" you nearly yell, finally tapping on jake's contact. "you don't need to worry about me, then."

and he doesn't. and you don't have the heart to explain why you did it. because telling him you'd felt like he'd cared more about chasing some stupid high that whole night hurt too much to put into words. and the fact that he'd been treating the joint with more reverence than your entire presence would have had the tears flowing.

riki sighs, looking at the way you clutch your phone like a lifeline. "there's no need to call a lyft, i can just-"

"fuck off, seriously." you tell him. "i'm calling jake. i'm calling my friend."

and for some reason, that's the comment that lands. not the swear words, not the constant checking in on him, but the very mention of the word 'friend' stuns him into silence. and from the corner of your eye, you see it. a crack in his facade, a break in the nonchalance. with his brows furrowed under the low light and mouth agape from the comment, he looks truly hurt.

after a moment of silence, he speaks again. "you don't need to do that," he says, biting his lip. "you don't need to call jake, i can-"

"can you just leave me alone?" you have to stop yourself from yelling, should his neighbors be trying to sleep. you look up from your phone now, practically shaking from anger. "you know, like you've been doing for the past five months."

his expression of hurt shifts into something harder again, deeper. and you know you've lit a fire. he scoffs, his nonchalant act dropping the second you uttered the word 'months'.

"me?" he says, pointing to himself in disbelief, as if he couldn't fathom the way you saw the story. "i didn't leave, i never left you alone." he spoke louder now, a flush rising along his neck.

"yes you did, riki!" you finally yell, dropping your phone to the side of the loveseat. "you haven't spoken to me in so long!" your voice cracks at the end of the sentence, and you don't know how much longer you can keep the tears at bay.

"and what about you?" he snaps back, pointing at the notebook at that sits in your lap. "you only messaged me because you needed something." he frowns, a deep and vulnerable expression of hurt in his eyes. "not because you actually cared."

your heart stings at this. because.....he isn't completely wrong. of course, you had cared, contrary to his belief, but you never felt comfortable reaching out for so many reasons. he'd gotten a new friend group, taken up new hobbies, and had changed so much since you'd last known him. at least the notebook had given you an excuse to insert yourself back into his life. remained the one thing, no matter how small, that connected you two.

so in a strained voice, you tell him exactly that.

"i did care, riki. i do care!" you started, defensiveness at the candor of his statement rising from within you. "i wanted to reach you so badly today, but you couldn't seem to be bothered by anything that wasn't that stupid joint."

your breathing quickens. "all you can do since i've been here is look at me like you're soo annoyed, so sick and tired of me," you continue, your voice breaking.

and it was true, because ever since you had walked through the door, it was the one thing he seemed to really care for; the one constant. if anything, you were sure that had been the reason for the falling out in the first place.

"well it's been nearly half a year, (y/n)." he speaks, his lip quivering as he mutters your name. "so sorry if.....if i'm not waiting here with open arms."

the pain in his voice is palpable, and for a moment, you feel bad for even expecting it to be one of the outcomes.

riki runs a hand through his hair, his eyes trailing along your features. he seems to have sobered up slightly, because his tone, though strained, lowers just a tad. "and the weed it's just-" he sighs, throwing his hands in the air before letting them fall again. "it's something that makes me feel better; it's not to offend you, or make you feel like i cared more about it...or that i'm annoyed by you-"

"well it did, riki!" you snap back, the months' worth of your thoughts finally spilling out. "it has today, and it has for months, the day you decided to drop me to smoke with your new friends all the time."

for the first time that night, he seems legitimately taken aback. "what?" he exclaims, the disbelief at your accusation causing his volume to rise again. "i never dropped you, (y/n)!"

"but you did, riki!" you respond, not even trying to control your volume anymore. "you used to love hanging out with me!" you can feel your throat tighten at your own words. "before your new crew came, and back when i still mattered to you."

"you've always mattered to me, (y/n)!" he croaks. "and yes i loved hanging out with you, i loved.....i love-" his eyes flicker to the ceiling, as if he wants to say something. he ultimately decides against it, opting for a completely new sentence. "but you didn't need me anymore!"

the sentence alone stuns you into silence. and for a beat, you sit there. what on earth did he mean? all you knew was that for that point in time, all you needed was your best friend. you didn't understand why that had been such a difficult thing to grasp. so you ask.

"what do you mean, i didn't need you?" you scoff. "you were my best friend, i've always needed you, always wanted you!"

his voice drops an octave, though his tone still carries something deep, heavy. you feel it might be worse than him simply yelling. "no, you didn't."

he shrugs, his eyes, still full of hurt, leave you as his gaze falls to the floor. "you'd.....had it all. a new scholarship for the next semester, a charming new boyfriend, a new friend group of your own."

the bitterness of his tone isn't lost on you as you recall the past few months. sure, the facts themselves had been right, but the way he'd told them....simply didn't resonate with you.

yes, you had gotten a new scholarship, but it was one you were almost guaranteed to get. and the new friends you'd made had been in the same boat. and sure, you'd had a boyfriend at the time, but it had only lasted a few weeks. certainly not long enough to matter in the grand scheme of things.

"you mean mike?" you think that had been his name at least, could hardly remember, really. "we'd only dated for like a week!" you say. "why would that even matter-"

riki's head falls back, and he lets out a deep groan. "it wasn't him, that was the problem, (y/n)." he bit his lip again. "it was what he stood for."

and for the first time since you'd stepped into this apartment, you'd done more listening than talking.

"he was some lit major with a minor in something sciency and you'd just got accepted into this new program that-" he pauses, turning back to you for a second. "that i was very proud of you for, by the way,"

you bit your lip again, now wanting to cry for a completely different reason as he continued.

"and it just seemed like-" he paused again. "your life was headed in this direction that i.....i couldn't follow, you know?" his voice breaks at the last word, and swear you can hear tears forming in his throat.

he clears his throat once more, and he looks up at you with a new shine over his eyes. "you were going to steady with this accomplished guy and getting ready for your new semester and i....." he swallows hard. "i had known you for so long but i was just....your friend who was a dance major...and smoked sometimes."

and in an instant, it all clicks. the pain in his voice, the insecurity in his statements. the way he'd attempted to shut you out earlier to hide it. "riki," you respond, shifting in your seat. "i never judged you for that."

sure, it had never been your cup of tea, but you'd never flat-out push him away because of it. not when he mattered so much to you.

"it didn't feel like it," riki says, a strand of hair falling between his shining eyes. "not when you started dating someone who was the complete opposite of me."

when you think of mike, you can hardly seem to recall anything significant about him. you don't even remember who broke up with who, or how it had happened. because around that time you'd lost something much deeper. your friendship with riki. and that heartache alone cut deeper than any old breakup.

it was amazing that riki seemed to remember, though, even to the point of comparing himself to the guy. you weren't sure that it had mattered so much, at the end of the day, to you, that's all he had been to you. just another boyfriend.

riki had seen a few come and go, but you figured he'd known the truth. that no matter how many you'd had, you'd always put your best friend above them all.

"i don't understand, riki...." you shake your head in disbelief. "why would that even matter, you were my best friend-"

his gaze drops from yours, and he lets out a low, bitter chuckle. the soft smile finds his features for the first time tonight, even if it seems to be in irony. "that was the problem, (y/n)." he spoke softly, a stark contrast from the volume you'd both used only moments ago. "i was always just your friend."

and it all makes sense.

you can't seem to bring yourself to stop the tears from spilling over now, at the moment of his new revelation. "oh," is all you can bring yourself to say.

he snickers again, quiet, now completely sober. "yeah," he repeats, brushing the strand of blonde hair from his eyes. "oh," he repeats, as if not even shocked by your reaction. as if this was the only way he'd ever seen it going.

"well, riki you never told me that.....i just-" you start, wiping furiously at your face, trying to rid it of tears that spilled over. "how come you never said anything to me?"

"because it never felt safe to, (y/n)," he huffed, looking up at you with the eyes of someone heartbroken far too many times. heartbroken by you, far too many times. "it was never going to be me and it just.....felt easier to turn to one thing that made me feel good."

and there it is; the truth as clear as day. he'd never pushed you away intentionally, never dropped you for a new group of friends. he'd simply gravitated to a place where he felt less judged, even if he hadn't outwardly told you he'd felt like it.

"well, riki i still wish you had said something," and it's true. you'd have taken anything, the truth, a broken confession, anything but losing your best friend these past few months. "i can't-" you sniffle, a broken, bitter laugh leaving your throat. "i can't read your mind, you know?"

he pauses for a moment, his gaze unshakingly trained on you for the first time tonight. he pauses, a soft smile still etched into his features as he watches you carefully. "you used to be able to," he muttered. "i swear, you could."

and you knew exactly what he meant.

you two, not so long ago, were practically inseparable. knew him like the back of your hand, and vice versa. and with that, you came to understand all, if not most, of his tells. how could you not, after knowing him for so long? with a flick of his brow, you knew when he was bored, craving a snack run, or simply wanted to go home. you read him like a book, and he the same; you'd jokingly call it telepathy.

and now, looking at the young man who sat before you with tear-stained eyes, you weren't sure just how true it was anymore.

for a moment, you both sit in silence, the low hum of the vent finding the decency to stop and give you time to think things through. then, before you can stop yourself, you say it.

"riki....what happened to us?"

he bites his lips again, his sad smile melting away as he shrugs slowly. "i don't know," he says, a soft vulnerability behind his dark eyes. "but i....uh," he starts, looking down at his lap, as if it'd help him find the words.

"i really," he breathes, lowly, then swallows as he looks back up at you. the layer of shine over his eyes now down the ridge of his nose. "really fuckin' missed you."

and your heart shatters.

not from the words alone, but because you finally see him, the guy you've been looking for all night. the young boy you'd befriended long ago. before the weed, and the scholarships, and the boyfriend drama.

in his eyes, you feel the warmth behind them, of the boy who'd sit next to you at lunch in high school as you two planned on which college you'd attend in the coming years. you see the boy who'd stay up with you on school nights, eating ice cream until your stomachs hurt. in his lips, the soft, delicate one he bites back now, you see the smile he'd wear when playing just dance on nintendo whenever you'd come over after class. and for a moment, you swear you catch a glimpse of a younger him, with bright eyes and dark hair, and you feel your heart clench. because after all this time, you finally see your best friend again.

and man, have you missed him too.

so as the tears flow, you let them. don't even wipe them away as you nod in agreement with your old friend. "me too, riki." you breathe, a small, quivering smile finding your lips as you lean forward. "i missed you like crazy."

he laughs then, the lightest one you've heard tonight. it's sniffly and runny, and raw and human, like yours. "i'm...sorry," he spoke again, eyes flickering away briefly before coming back to you. "i'm sorry i never said anything....i figured you already knew."

guess that telepathy you two had shared hadn't been as reliable as you once thought. because, as you looked at the broken young man before you, it amazed you that you hadn't seen it before. he'd hid it with a mask of nonchalance, but even then, his eyes, now full of love, adoration, and hope for the future, couldn't have lied to you if they tried. perhaps that's why he'd been avoiding meeting eyes with you since the moment you'd walked in; they'd have been a dead giveaway.

"i had no clue," you breathed shakily. "and if i did, i'd have never pushed you away because of it, riki."

he closes his eyes, slowly, as he lets out a deep breath. it's as if he needed to hear those words, because the way he pauses, simply to drink them in, is unmistakable. and when his lashes flutter open again, he leans over to take your hand in his. "thanks," he says lowly.

you squeeze his hand, and feel a warmth spread across your chest at the gentle smile that forms upon his lips. you'd never told him, but you'd always thought they were one of his best features.

just like his eyes, the beautiful almond shape decorated with deep brown pupils, which always brought you happiness to see. or the moles along his face, the ones that trailed along his cheeks, down and past his chin to form his very own constellation.

one thing you'd always found the most beautiful about him hadn't been a physical feature, no. above all things, what you'd adored most about riki had been his heart. how ever since you'd been teenagers, kids even, he'd never fail to take care of you. even when he thought he'd been doing you a favor by giving you space, his heart had been in the right place.

you'd never told him these things, though, because for better or worse, you hadn't wanted to ruin your friendship. but if the past couple of months had taught you anything, it was that the unspoken feelings, lingering thoughts, and everything in between had been the ultimate killer. that nothing ended a friendship quicker than silence, and doubt.

so keeping this in mind, you pull yourself up from the loveseat, and make your way to the couch.

riki leans back, a furrow in his brow as he looks up at you. his eyes trail your figure closely, carefully. like if he looked away for one second, you would vanish. his lips twist with movement, and you can tell -likely with the power of old telepathy- that he's going to ask what you're doing.

but you don't give him a chance to ask, nor do you even tell him. instead, you show him, by keeping your hand in his as you take a seat in his lap.

when your head falls along his chest, you bite back a smile at the way you hear his heart rate quicken. and when you look up to meet eyes with him once again, you truly don't know how you could have missed it. because as his arms wrap around you, and his chest rises and falls quickly with each breath, it's as clear as day. nishimura has been, and is still irrevocably in love with you.

you can sense he wants to kiss you, and you want him to, as well. and as you think of the five months lost between him and you, you decide ultimately not to wait a moment longer. so you lean in closer, longing to bridge the gap that's sat between you two for months.

his lips are just about to meet yours when a shrill sound of a phone rings from the loveseat. your phone, still in the cushion.

still keeping you in his lap, he reaches over and pulls the device from the loveseat with his eyes still trained on you. he looks down, but for only a second, as he hands it over.

you glance at your phone, wondering who could possibly be calling you. but when you read the contact name as jake, your heart drops. you must have actually hit call when you clicked his contact earlier.

picking up the phone quickly, you press the phone to your ear. "hello?"

an aussie accent answers you on the other side. "hey, (y/n)!" jake responds, his voice thick with concern. "is everything okay?"

you bite your lip. how much had he'd heard? in the heat of the moment, you aren't sure when you'd actually hit call. can hardly remember anything before the phone slipped into the cracks of the seat. "yeah jake, i'm fine, really."

"okay," he replies, a soft noise rustling in the background "only asking because right after you called our connection went wonky, everything sounded really wonky and muffled."

so he hadn't heard anything. "it's fine, i just dropped my phone in the cushion, but i'm okay now."

"okay then," jake repeats, still sounding unconvinced. "i thought i heard a guy there, too...sounded loud?" he spoke. "you sure you're okay?"

you turned to riki, who now had a flush creep upon his features under the dim light. "yeah, jake i'm.....i'm fine." then, in reassurance. "i'm....i'm with riki."

silence.

and then; "oh," jake mutters, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "you two are talking again?"

"jake-"

"sorry!" he quickly responds, and you know he's trying his hardest to bite back a smile. "i'll leave you to it then."

and with a click on the other end of the line, jake is gone.

with newfound color in your own cheeks, you turn back to riki, and remember where you'd left off. but before you can lean back in, he still holds you, eyeing you as if you were a mosaic, despite the tear-stained and flushed cheeks you sported.

then, after a moment, he breaks the silence between you two, brushing a small strand of hair behind you. "can we uh...can we wait?"

your brows furrow in confusion. surely you hadn't read this situation wrong. it seemed like only moments ago he had been wanting to kiss you just as much as he to kiss you. "y-yeah, of course." you respond. "is there a reason why?"

he nods feverishly, his thumb brushing along the side of your jaw. "i just....don't want it like this, you know?"

you feel your heart drop, but you know what he means. if this were to be your first kiss with him, you'd understand why he wouldn't want to be like this. with eyes bloodshot from tears and weed and who knows what else, it makes sense on why he'd want to wait.

and even if you'd felt like you had been months behind, it was nice to know that the man who held you could wait even longer. that despite having lost so much time, he wasn't in a rush to speedrun or make up for experiences. that he'd been waiting for a while for your love, and could do it for even more if it meant he could truly savor these moments; your first shared kiss, your first date, and even more.

so as you sat in his lap with his arm around your waist, you spoke about friendship. what it meant to you, and what it meant to him. you caught up on lost time over shared memories and moments, sharing stories and filling in the gaps between the lost time. he told you about what he'd done while you weren't around and vice versa. he spoke about what change looked like to him, and you jokingly (not really) mentioned to put the tapestry back up.