no refunds! || kuroken

spring rain

With spring rain comes floods so destructive that there was no hope of repairing damages, depending on how bad you let them get.

Kenma didn't know how bad it could get.

There were holes in the roof and the wood was soaked and rotting away. He'd used up so much time in a paradise that had been built on a faulty foundation, that he didn't notice his safe haven was being destroyed the more time he'd spent in it. And now, as he tried to go back to it, there wasn't anything salvageable to build it back up again.

He wasn't going to try. It was capsized and sinking.

This sucked.

Though, he couldn't find it in himself to regret it.

He wanted to be mad at Kuroo, wanted to be angry at him and have someone to blame other than himself. He knew what he was getting into, yet, he still let Kuroo in when he told himself he wouldn't dare do something like that again.

But he thinks, despite how bad he felt now, it was more than worth it. He thinks that all the watercolor skies Kuroo's painted for him, all the conversations that the stars would eavesdrop on once the moon rose, all of the roller coaster drops and butterfly flutters, were worth it.

Heartbreak was a lot like the wilt of flowers.

It was the brown tip of tulip petals when there wasn't enough water, the cry of sunflowers when a heavy fog choked up the stratosphere. There was a struggle to keep going, to keep hoping for something to save it from dying the more time passed.

And while Kenma tried his very best to keep himself from crumbling to dust the more time passed without him, without reaching hope in some sort of closure, he realizes how stupid he'd been with him.

He doesn't think he's done enough. Maybe something as grandeur as the uphill climb to open up more was minuscule compared to what Kuroo expected from him. Maybe he was too mean to him. Maybe he was too distant.

Maybe he truly would never speak to him again, like Kuroo told him to.

But even then, he doesn't regret it.

Kuroo felt like a dream, pretty and vivid, and Kenma often thought it was too good to be true with how easily they became close.

He had been right, after all.

And as he now looks at the world through a broken lens, the rain outside pouring and making him feel that much more flooded in the tiny space of his bedroom, he still sees Kuroo's smiling face over several glass panes, each still more beautiful than the last, wilting flowers at his feet.

The butterflies dance with clipped wings, their colors lost, as petals fall off of the roses that bloomed in his chest.

~❀~

Kuroo wasn't doing so well.

The thunder outside was loud, colliding with his thoughts, and despite trying to get Kenma out of his head, to think of how to go about everything from a more logical standpoint, he couldn't ignore it.

There was something pulling at him, for the past few days, begging for him to go see him.

He was so used to spending all of this time with Kenma, to forgetting everything for a moment while Kenma led him through some of the most dreamy places the city had to offer them. Kuroo was so used to looking forward to him , to floating above the stars with him, that the crash into the ground hurt a lot more than it should've.

He did not know how bad longing felt.

He had the date to go on, tonight, and while he's looking at himself in the mirror, trying to ignore the dark circles beneath his swollen eyes that announced his losing sleep and crying over Kenma to anyone that saw him, trying to ignore the frown his lips seemed to gravitate to whenever he was too in his head, or the extra messiness in his hair that just didn't look right anymore.