Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
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MARCH FOURTEENTH, TWO THOUSAND AND SEVENTEEN
17:39 in the afternoon
ANOTHER YEAR HAD come and gone. Before Sora knew it, he was a few steps closer to healing his broken heart. The pain was still there, but it dulled somewhat with time and distance. Sora took a deep breath in. A smile curved on his lips. It didn't hurt. Water wasn't pooling in his lungs, nor did his skin crawl. This was what Mikayo must've meant— the wind blowing against him as he stepped out of his car, the warm setting sun on his face, the breeze whispering around him. This was what it felt like to be whole. He wasn't drowning. He wasn't swimming either. His muscles didn't ache. His chest didn't burn.
It was just Sora, in the air, on the ground, feeling better than he had ever felt.
The clouds above him floated peacefully and undisturbed. No one else seemed to notice that anything was different. People were walking around in casual clothing, people were talking and laughing, people were running. The world moved, and everything went along with it seamlessly. Everyone looked happy, even if their faces weren't visible to others. Even the kids Sora saw playing outside in the park weren't crying.
Everything felt peaceful. Sora felt peaceful.
"I guess there's a first for everything," he mused under his breath, his tone as light as the wind that strolled past blithely.
He stepped up to a glass door, crossing the threshold and scouring the room. His gaze landed on a tuff of blond hair. Sora's face lit up when he spotted Terushima waving, a blinding grin on his face. "Sora!" he called.
Sora raised his hand. "Hey."
As he made his way over, Terushima crossed his arms. He feigned an upset pout and looked away from his friend. "You're late."
"Sorry," Sora said sheepishly, unwrapping the scarf around his neck. "I had a bunch of work to do today and kinda lost track of time." He shrugged his coat off, draping it along the back of his chair before taking a seat. The movement felt all too familiar. Strangely, a face came to his mind, and Sora wondered what she was doing right now, whether she had eaten her breakfast or if it had completely slipped her mind. Sora had a feeling it had. He reminded himself to check up on her later.
"I'll forgive you— only if you treat me to a nice dinner," Terushima stated.
"It would be my pleasure."
A waiter came over and took their orders. Terushima hid a smile behind his palm as he watched the waiter subtly flirt with Sora. He puffed out his chest, flexed his arms, but it was useless. Sora remained oblivious. He pulled out his phone and tapped the screen absentmindedly. The waiter got the hint and left, frowning. Terushima arched a brow.
