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...
let's raise a glass or two to all the things i've lost on you
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MAY FIRST, TWO THOUSAND AND SEVENTEENTH
02:34 in the morning
SORA NEVER THOUGHT a voicemail could send him into a spiralled state of panic. His lungs collapsed. The blood rushing through his ears deafened him. He was standing in Mikayo's kitchen, motionless, with shadows threatening to engulf him whole. The world fell away from him as he stared at the screen, the light blinding his senses and numbing him. It taunted him, glaring fiercely. Sora swallowed the lump in his throat. He had just heard a voice that brought back many unwanted memories and feelings.
"I really miss you, Sora," he remembered hearing, and gods, did his name never sound so prettier coming from a person's mouth. It echoed in his head, so adored by the blue sky, with its terror hidden behind stormy clouds.
His body, all too soon, became paralyzed, rooted to the ground like a tree caught by lightning. His limbs felt heavy, and his heart roared with fear. The air in the room was compressed with a force greater than gravity itself, and he struggled against the weight of it. In his desperate state, Sora struggled to suck in air. Something so simple became strenuous. He watched as the walls crept closer, inch by inch, threatening to corner him, and he trembled like a newborn deer. His fingers gripped the kitchen counter for support. He hunched over it. Everything was too close. Too crowded. He needed space.
Sora tugged at the collar of his shirt, fingers clawing the fabric. A sudden surge of pain erupted from the centre of his chest.
All at once, the healing and the recovery vanished. Sora couldn't breathe.
He was drowning.
His sobs tore through the air, waking up his sleeping girlfriend. Mikayo blinked rapidly as she processed the noises coming from behind the open door. It only took her a few moments until she realized the situation.
"Sora," she gasped, whipping her head to the side. The bed was empty. The sheets were cold.
Mikayo tore the duvet off her body. Half-dressed and barefoot, she sprinted to the source. Her feet thundered against the wooden floor, and she could not register anything but her weeping lover.
"Oh my god, Sora, Sora," she called, running up to him. Mikayo had never seen anything like this. Sure, she had seen Sora cry, but nothing like this. This was...this was pure torture. Her heart ached like it had never before. "What- What's wrong?"
"Mikayo," he whimpered.
It all happened so fast. One minute Sora was standing in the middle of the kitchen, looking pale as death, and the next, he was on the ground sobbing his eyes out. Mikayo fell to her knees behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him to her chest. She shifted, placing her legs on either side of him, and rocked his trembling figure back and forth.
