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by lovejjong

by lovejjong

Soraru tried his best to ignore Mafu the entire time, not wanting to open up to him. He refused to eat the food that was offered to him, claiming that he isn't hungry. Although Hashiyan does not seemed like he believed him, he lets it go. "Guys, I'll have to go now," Hashiyan finally says, when they are in the middle of watching some show the television was playing. Soraru frowned at him, a hand reaching for Hashiyan's. "You're usually free now," he murmurs, and the black-haired male smiled apologetically. "I'll swing by later, all right? We can even have a sleepover," he cooes, ruffling the man's hair. "I've to go meet a friend before he heads out of town."
Soraru nods slightly, sighing sharply. He does not want to be stuck in this house with the taller man who does not seem like he is leaving anytime soon. Hashiyan grins waving goodbye to Mafu before heading out, the door clicking shut behind him. Just as he left, Mafu turned towards him after turning the television off, blanketing them both in silence. Soraru held his stare for a few heartbeats, before he averted his gaze, his thumb rubbing against his tender skin. "Stop doing that," the taller sighs, pulling Soraru's hand gently away from him.
   "Why do you care so much?" His words came out sharper than he had intended, but Soraru did not mind- the sooner Mafu would go, the better. However, the man shook his head, Soraru's hand still in his. "Because you're my friend," he says softly, rubbing soothing circles into the surface of Soraru's palm, before he continued with his words, "and I wouldn't want you to get hurt, Soraru-san."
   "I get hurt all the time," Soraru countered, but shut his eyes in content as Mafu continued to rub his hand soothingly. "I know, but since I'm here, you can tell me what happened, instead of doing this to yourself." "We barely know each other," Soraru finally sighs, his eyes lowered. "We can get closer," Mafu beams, as if he was delighted at the mere thought. He pulls Soraru towards him, and Soraru rested his head on Mafu's chest, eyes fluttering close. "You wouldn't push me away?" He murmurs, and Mafu frowned. "No way," he promised, bringing a small smile to Soraru's lips. "But first, let me see your wrist," Mafu says, pulling away from Soraru. "Why?" The man almost whined, his bottom lip jutting out in defiance. "Because, I need to help you get it treated, hmm?"
   He tugged the shorter man's arm towards him, rolling up the sleeves to get a good look at the wound. Soraru watched the blonde's facial expression carefully, as he examined his slashed wrist. "Why did you do this?" Mafu finally asks, standing up and urging him to do the same. He pulled him towards the bathroom and told Soraru to sit, as he took the box of first aid kit out. Soraru hissed at the moment the antiseptic came in contact with his skin.
   "My skin is a canvas, and the razor is my brush," he finally whispers, pressing his lips in a thin-lipped smile. Mafu's eyes softened, as he carefully applied a band-aid onto the wounds. "Your razor isn't the brush anymore," he mutters, covering Soraru's hand with his own. Soraru fought the rising of tears, even as he closed his eyes, whispering a soft 'thank you'.

But he knew it wasn't enough in the end.

a/n : im excited with this book.
-aru