[Persona 3] Farewell
Pairing: Akihiko/Mitsuru
Rating: PG
Warnings: Ending spoilers
Notes: Written for churched as part of a drabble prompt set. Ha. Drabbles. Right.
Wordcount: 250
Summary: She doesn't want to say any more goodbyes.
Beta: None
Her dorm room is bare of all the things that had made it hers; those things are boxed up and folded neatly into suitcases, stacked by the door for the movers to handle. Mitsuru stands in the center of the empty room and checks one last time, to be sure she has left nothing behind. She knows she has not; she also knows that she is avoiding saying goodbye.
She has already said goodbye once this week, to Arisato; she does not want to say it again, though it will be less final this time.
The floorboard creaks, and she turns to see Akihiko standing in the doorway, his jacket slung over his shoulder as usual. The silence stretches out between them. In the street below, she hears a car pull over and stop; the door closes, and footsteps approach the dormitory.
"I guess you have to go," Akihiko says awkwardly. She nods; it's too cold, this farewell, but she doesn't know how to do this.
"I'll write. Or e-mail," Mitsuru says. She really should go.
Akihiko comes closer, and kisses her. Electricity leaps between them, sharp and fierce. Mitsuru leans into the kiss, and lets herself forget that in ten minutes' time she will need to be the face of the Kirijo Group, and no longer a student.
She hears footsteps coming down the hall, and steps back reluctantly. She doesn't know what to say. Instead, she takes his hand and squeezes it, then turns to face her fate.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Ending spoilers
Notes: Written for churched as part of a drabble prompt set. Ha. Drabbles. Right.
Wordcount: 250
Summary: She doesn't want to say any more goodbyes.
Beta: None
Her dorm room is bare of all the things that had made it hers; those things are boxed up and folded neatly into suitcases, stacked by the door for the movers to handle. Mitsuru stands in the center of the empty room and checks one last time, to be sure she has left nothing behind. She knows she has not; she also knows that she is avoiding saying goodbye.
She has already said goodbye once this week, to Arisato; she does not want to say it again, though it will be less final this time.
The floorboard creaks, and she turns to see Akihiko standing in the doorway, his jacket slung over his shoulder as usual. The silence stretches out between them. In the street below, she hears a car pull over and stop; the door closes, and footsteps approach the dormitory.
"I guess you have to go," Akihiko says awkwardly. She nods; it's too cold, this farewell, but she doesn't know how to do this.
"I'll write. Or e-mail," Mitsuru says. She really should go.
Akihiko comes closer, and kisses her. Electricity leaps between them, sharp and fierce. Mitsuru leans into the kiss, and lets herself forget that in ten minutes' time she will need to be the face of the Kirijo Group, and no longer a student.
She hears footsteps coming down the hall, and steps back reluctantly. She doesn't know what to say. Instead, she takes his hand and squeezes it, then turns to face her fate.