12 days of xmas [BrightWin]

🎁 Day 10: right kind of fate

On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me...

Mixed signals
(Bright would've actually preferred mixed tapes instead)

Bright heaved an earth shattering sigh for the hundredth time that morning and Toptap could not stand it any longer (at this rate no one could, really, even Gun was getting annoyed). The young man had this pitiful little frown on his face, bow shaped lips downturned and pouty. His silky bangs that fell softly over his forehead fluttered with each devastating sigh. This made him look all young and lost. Ame was currently curled up in his lap and Bright was absently petting her white fur as he stared forlornly at the cellphone clutched in his other hand (Bright's lock screen was that one picture of him and Win kissing in the kitchen). He was obviously waiting for some sort of reply from Win. A sign of life, a sign of reciprocation. At this rate he would take anything.

Bright was once again wearing Win's old sweatshirt that he had paired off with a pair of baggy pants. He had also been sleeping on Win's pillow for these last couple of nights, that vaguely still smelled like Win (a little sugary, like apples, and with a hint of musk). How had Bright even been able to function without him before? It was just unimaginable at this point. Win must have taken a piece of Bright's heart (and brain) with him in that squeaky suitcase when he left. And it did not help that Win was so sparse with his affections either.

Bright had sent him texts and he had sent him selfies. He had sent cute selfies and then even sexy ones. He had tried everything to stay connected with the elusive man but there were few replies and even then, very far between them. Was Win simply not interested? Was Bright annoying him? Or maybe, did Win already regret ever meeting Bright? Bright knew that he was not everyone's cup of tea, several lovers had left him because they thought him being (quote) weird (unquote). Bright's pout intensified just as the pats he bestowed upon Ame grew more aggressive, tugging at the fur along her back.

Taking pity on the gloomy creature holding up in their parents' living room, Love sat down on the couch next to Bright. She patted his shoulder softly and handed over a cup of hot cocoa that she had brought over on strict orders from Win's mother that was prepping lunch for everybody in the kitchen (the older woman was quite worried about Bright since his spirits had been running low recently). The sugar bomb in that thing should at least power him up for a couple of hours at least. And good enough, the sweet fragrance of the beverage brought the guy out of his stupor as he raised his big eyes, blinking owlishly at her as the pale but stark light that filtered through the huge bay window stabbed mercilessly at his eyes.

"He's not doing this intentionally you know," Love said, trying to console Bright. "Win usually gets like this when there's a lot of work at his office, it gets impossible to get a hold of him since he basically lives there during these periods. I know for a fact that he avoids all private stuff so that he doesn't get distracted, says it brings his mojo down when he starts missing his normal life and family."

Bright was not so sure that this applied to him as well but he nodded anyway, hands now cupped around the warm cup that was maybe, slowly thawing his frozen heart (and no, he was not Elsa). Love nudged him with her shoulder, noticing the tiny smile that he inconspicuously stopped from fluttering over his lips, but not before it had already tugged faintly at the corners of his lips.

"I'm sure he'll be here tomorrow evening," she said confidently, nodding her head in agreement at her own words, the hair bun atop her head swayed lightly.

Bright only sighed (Toptap rolled his eyes and Gun shook his head) while sinking down in his seat, round knees splaying wider apart.

"I don't think he will," Bright then supplied softly, his fingers playing absently with Ame's fur, the hot cup of cocoa now perched precariously on one of his knees as he held it loosely with one hand. The scalding heat at the bottom of the cup seeped through the fabric of his pants, warming his slightly chilly skin. "I actually asked Metawin over text the other day and he said that it didn't seem likely that he'll make it back for Christmas."