no refunds! || kuroken

okay, maybe a little desperate

Here he was, on a Friday night, contemplating his mother's questions for what seemed like the nth time since November of last year, sitting cross-legged on his small couch with cushions made out of the roughest material he had ever felt, wondering exactly what would make her not ask had he show up again this year.

And he knew the answer, but he just wasn't reckless enough to go the direct route, and he decided that trying to find alternatives was good for keeping his mind from going into overdrive.

It made his chest feel weird, nerves lacing around his heart and anxiety draping from his ribcage the more he thought about his absent partner and just how quickly the time would come before he really knew it.

Why couldn't she just leave him alone?

He takes a huge breath in that makes his stomach ache before his eyes flick back to the small television screen he'd been in front of, the redundant, yet domestic theme of Super Smash trying its best to coax him out of his own head. The controller in his hands felt like a stupid piece of plastic and the game felt even dumber, not interested in playing anymore as the daunting task of trying to find a boyfriend for November loomed over him like storm clouds.

He was so fucked.

Through his silent arguments between his head and his imagination, rhythmically tapping on the joystick of his controller to help him think, the doorbell rings and snaps his train of thought in half, and Kenma wants to groan at the intrusion, but there's literally only one person that knew where he lived, and his roommate wouldn't bother to come over without him unless it was incredibly, life savingly important.

So he doesn't groan. Instead, he gets up, a bit of giddiness in his heart at the thought of seeing Hinata tonight.

It's only been two days, but he thinks it would do him good.

"Kenma~!"

His name reminds him of the taste of strawberries in the way Hinata says it when he opens the door for him, his eyes bright and housing the stars from the empty night sky behind him. He feels daisies bloom in his chest at Hinata's excitement, and he couldn't help but smile back at him.

Kenma sometimes likes to think that Hinata was found in the way the sun burned during the day, blazing and imminent, and himself how the moon glows over their idle town once night falls. They completed each other in an almost perfect way, and Kenma doesn't think there was anyone else he'd rather have in his apartment raiding his fridge, or bouncing on his couch while making popcorn in his microwave and telling him about his day, radiating throughout his small apartment and shedding light in the dark corners of the ceiling.

There wasn't anyone else Kenma would rather give a piece of his heart to in exchange for his own.

He loved Hinata.

"So! Did you figure out what you're going to do about the holidays?" Hinata asks, lying upside down on Kenma's couch across from him and kicking his sock-covered feet in the air from where his legs rested on the back of the couch, the question completely breaking down the remainder of the silence that Kenma had built up before he'd gotten here. "You only have like, two months before November, you know."

He immediately feels dread creep up over his shoulders as he shakes his head, his television screen replaced with the selection of B-rated horror flicks Netflix had to offer, but he couldn't really focus on it now.

He hadn't really heeded the threat of losing time that much before Hinata had said it out loud.

Two months was not enough time at all.

He looks to his feet and tries to find his thoughts in the stripes of his fuzzy socks, eyes trailing over all of the black threads that he could pull out and throw away, giving him some sort of distraction before he got back to the question.