weirdleeenoughFriends will carry you, but won’t bring you back.
If only you were more than friends.
Angst, Bittersweet, Unspoken Feelings, Implied Character Death, Mourning.
Nanami Kento / You
Nanami Kento likes to hold your hand.
Fingers clasped, souls intertwined, whenever you went walking, as if it was natural. Your hand in his. His hand in yours.
He likes to brush stray hairs behind your ear. A ghastly wind responsible for displacing them in the first place. He’s quick when he does it, and keeps his hand pressed to the side of your head long after he’s finished.
He likes to bring you flowers, and to lay his head in your lap. If his day is hard, he finds solace in your embrace. He loves your company. Rather, he desires it with his very being.
So he seeks you out the very moment it becomes possible.
The need for closeness was never explicitly stated. There was no big question or midnight proposal over a fancy dinner. One day, he was just yours.
Would do anything for you.
Belonged to you.
It was ironic that day when he’d pulled you aside, eyes a little lost, “After all of this, can I take you somewhere?”
You said yes, didn’t ask what he’d meant by all this.
Maybe you should’ve asked. Cus’ now you’re here, dressed in black, watching the setting sun, still waiting to find out.
Maybe you should’ve asked.
Maybe.
Because today, everything unspoken you have to leave behind.
