arashi, ohmiya. the colour of silence.
two things: one, i write too much ohmiya; two, i write too much linear and gap-filled fic. i have prompts to write, maybe i should get onto them.
the colour of silence
ohmiya, g, 630 wds.
Nino twirls the lollipop around in his mouth, a reminder of the day before, of him. The flavour is sweet, almost sickeningly so, but he’s not about to get rid of it anytime soon. He chokes on the sugar on his tongue, laughing at himself as tears well up in his eyes, uninvited.
Outside, it sounds like summer.
The lollipop is wearing down rapidly and it saddens him just a little. He knows edible gifts aren’t meant to last forever, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to stop wishing they did. Even after the candy is gone and only the stick is left hanging from his mouth, the sweetness still lingers on his tastebuds. Maybe he just won't eat or drink for a while.
The doorbell rings, startling Nino from a rather uneventful yet pleasant daydream, and he rolls off the bed to go answer it. On his welcome mat stands a man he’s never seen before, strange black bowler hat perched atop neat blonde locks. A foreigner? He still hasn’t thrown away the lollipop stick.
“Who are you?” Nino asks around the plastic, chewing softly here and there.
The man shrugs and hands over a letter. Nino expects the man to leave then, but he doesn't.
He opens the envelope slowly. It’s pale blue and sealed by a single spot sticker. Inside the envelope is a tatty sheet of paper, and there is a single heart drawn in lead pencil in the centre.
“Who are you?” Nino tries again, but when he looks up, the man is gone.
Nino leaves the paper taped to the side of his computer screen. He doesn’t understand. The wrapper of the lollipop on the desk catches his eye and his heart thumps involuntarily.
The next day brings a young girl in a beret, with long red-brown ringlets down to her waist. Unhesitant, she presses a heart-shaped chocolate into Nino’s hand, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. She bounces from foot to foot as Nino peels back the red foil and pops the chocolate into his mouth.
“It’s really nice,” he mumbles, half expecting the girl to have disappeared, but once again he is surprised.
She nods and reaches up to grab Nino’s hand. Her fingers are tiny and warm against his own.
She soon drops her grip and Nino makes the mistake of glancing elsewhere, and she too disappears.
He flattens out the foil into a neat square and tapes it beneath the note.
When a teenage boy with unruly brown hair turns up in a baseball cap one day later, he’s not even surprised, though he still hasn’t figured it out. The boy does nothing but point up and then runs off in the few seconds it takes Nino to look up and recognise the heart written in the sky.
Today’s sky is a brilliant blue, without a cloud in sight.
He snaps a photo of the smoke heart and sets it as his wallpaper on his computer. He still hasn’t thrown away the wrapper and he spends the rest of the day and night wondering - just wondering.
“I think,” Nino begins as he treats Ohno to lunch the next day, “I think someone’s trying to tell me something.” He pokes at the frothy heart in his cappuccino with a spoon. Even the waitresses here wear Gatsby hats.
Ohno never utters a word, just sips his own coffee and cocks his head in curiosity.
“Maybe something like, how I love you,” he continues, heart racing at a thousand beats a minute. He hopes his face stays somewhat more controlled, at the very least.
A girl across the room knocks her fork off the table and Ohno pushes his mug aside, leaning over the table and placing lips lightly against Nino’s.
Nino smiles. “Probably.”
the colour of silence
ohmiya, g, 630 wds.
Nino twirls the lollipop around in his mouth, a reminder of the day before, of him. The flavour is sweet, almost sickeningly so, but he’s not about to get rid of it anytime soon. He chokes on the sugar on his tongue, laughing at himself as tears well up in his eyes, uninvited.
Outside, it sounds like summer.
The lollipop is wearing down rapidly and it saddens him just a little. He knows edible gifts aren’t meant to last forever, but it doesn’t mean he’s going to stop wishing they did. Even after the candy is gone and only the stick is left hanging from his mouth, the sweetness still lingers on his tastebuds. Maybe he just won't eat or drink for a while.
The doorbell rings, startling Nino from a rather uneventful yet pleasant daydream, and he rolls off the bed to go answer it. On his welcome mat stands a man he’s never seen before, strange black bowler hat perched atop neat blonde locks. A foreigner? He still hasn’t thrown away the lollipop stick.
“Who are you?” Nino asks around the plastic, chewing softly here and there.
The man shrugs and hands over a letter. Nino expects the man to leave then, but he doesn't.
He opens the envelope slowly. It’s pale blue and sealed by a single spot sticker. Inside the envelope is a tatty sheet of paper, and there is a single heart drawn in lead pencil in the centre.
“Who are you?” Nino tries again, but when he looks up, the man is gone.
Nino leaves the paper taped to the side of his computer screen. He doesn’t understand. The wrapper of the lollipop on the desk catches his eye and his heart thumps involuntarily.
The next day brings a young girl in a beret, with long red-brown ringlets down to her waist. Unhesitant, she presses a heart-shaped chocolate into Nino’s hand, cheeks rosy and eyes bright. She bounces from foot to foot as Nino peels back the red foil and pops the chocolate into his mouth.
“It’s really nice,” he mumbles, half expecting the girl to have disappeared, but once again he is surprised.
She nods and reaches up to grab Nino’s hand. Her fingers are tiny and warm against his own.
She soon drops her grip and Nino makes the mistake of glancing elsewhere, and she too disappears.
He flattens out the foil into a neat square and tapes it beneath the note.
When a teenage boy with unruly brown hair turns up in a baseball cap one day later, he’s not even surprised, though he still hasn’t figured it out. The boy does nothing but point up and then runs off in the few seconds it takes Nino to look up and recognise the heart written in the sky.
Today’s sky is a brilliant blue, without a cloud in sight.
He snaps a photo of the smoke heart and sets it as his wallpaper on his computer. He still hasn’t thrown away the wrapper and he spends the rest of the day and night wondering - just wondering.
“I think,” Nino begins as he treats Ohno to lunch the next day, “I think someone’s trying to tell me something.” He pokes at the frothy heart in his cappuccino with a spoon. Even the waitresses here wear Gatsby hats.
Ohno never utters a word, just sips his own coffee and cocks his head in curiosity.
“Maybe something like, how I love you,” he continues, heart racing at a thousand beats a minute. He hopes his face stays somewhat more controlled, at the very least.
A girl across the room knocks her fork off the table and Ohno pushes his mug aside, leaning over the table and placing lips lightly against Nino’s.
Nino smiles. “Probably.”