Pannacotta Fugo x Reader One-shots

[92] heartless.

Hi, how's everyone doing?
This year is almost ending, huh? I want to have my hundred chapters this year but it looks like I can't do it. Well, next year it is.
Thank you for sticking around this year too! Hopefully, I can write one more chapter for you.
___ ___ ___ ___

"Why?" A simple question. Such word hold determination and your unwavering bravery. What happened, happened. Doesn't mean you're not going to let it go ever so easily. Never again. Despite how much you want to drop your face to your palm and drown in tears. Or how your fists start trembling. The urgency to repeat it again has risen. You couldn't lose him. Not this way. "May I ask why?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he replied, ever so distant in his voice and fragile in his eyes.

This is bound to happen. The talk when no one's around yet the moon is present. It was never easy to talk to him but once you get the hang of it, the world feels like it's moving slowly. 

"I did say it. I love you." 

There's no such thing as simplicity in his vocabulary.

"Why?" 

And he's polite enough to return the favor.

"Because it's you that I think about when I was about to die."

He looks somewhat deep in thought. The lights are off as the night grew older. Which's more rotten, your selfish happiness when he looks your way again or when you cursed when he sighed?

"Was that not enough reason for you to accept my love?" 

"I don't know. I don't understand." 

To think that there is one that he couldn't understand. It would be humiliating to live that way. Yet he's that endearing to keep living despite being unaware of it. 

"What is it that you don't understand?"

"You just woke up after being in a coma for three days." He called your name, perhaps it felt weird on his lips he almost chew them. "Now you said you love me because you think of me right before you passed out."

You raised your voice a bit. Hoping it will drill right into his brain. "Don't get me wrong. I know I like you long before that moment. There are lots of moments I could tell you when I realize that you're more than just you."

"Exactly. I don't have that." Which's colder, the air in this expensive hospital room or him? "I don't just know when I like someone."

"It's not a crime. You're not wrong. The least, you could tell me how you feel." You called his name. Somehow, he looks softer than the blanket you and he washed together last week. 

"Even..," he whispered as if you were not there, "even if you love me so much.., I only have one heart. I don't even know how to use it."

"You could've told me sooner." It wasn't as bad as you thought. You forgot how transparent Fugo can be. How blank and honest he is. When you take his face closer to yours, he swallowed. "I don't mind with you having one heart. Take care of it. Love yourself. But then you have to remember that I, too, only have one and I'm using it to love you."

"Doesn't sound rational to me. You have to live for yourself." 

"You don't have to lower your voice. The moon is deaf."

His eyes widen in the statement, gaze lingering on your hands as they pull away from his face. His face was warm, you're not sure if yours are the same.

You continued, "The thing is, I don't want to. I don't want to live for myself. When I was alone at that time, I think about you. I envy that principle of yours. Still, I don't want to. I want to love you. I want to let you know how this world can be a flower field and not just gazes judging at you."

"I can't just reply to that, can I? I have nothing to offer. It's not like I want to achieve something in life. This included. This is the same. I.., am sorry."

"So I do have no chance at all. If that's what you've decided, I'll accept. Thank you."

It's a shame. Too bad. So sad and hurt that you finally get to tear your heart out. It's gnawing at you from the inside. He's too proud to let it chew him too. 

"I'm not going to stop." Your sudden declaration made him flinch. What you see as cold sweats running down his neck. You avoided death, might as well be persistent until your next appointment with it again. "If you ever change your mind, you can tell me. The moon isn't blind. It knows when I cry and when you look at me."

He didn't answer. His eyes did. 

Which's saltier, your tears or his?