Hypervigilance
Title: Hypervigilance (CH Ten 2/2)
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Rating: M
Pairing: Riku/Sora
Genre: Romance, General Angst
Summary: In the uncertain world of adults, Sora and Riku attempt to patch together their shaky relationship after almost 5 years apart. It's about love and hate and lost trust, set in a world where the magic has run dry and the boys see each for who they really are.
Warning; Smut, Language
Sora finally showed up fifteen minutes later, parking his always clean car right across the street. Kairi indulged in the same ritual when he approached their table. Standing, smiling, hugging. Riku figured it was only proper manners to stand as well.
When Riku went to hug Sora, he behaved, giving him that one-armed 'hey there, friend' hug. It was hard not to hold him close like always, and smell his hair and touch all the little curves of his spine. A crowded street café wasn't really the place for forbidden affections. They parted quickly and Sora sat, his chair perfectly centered between the two of them, showing that he had no preference. Clearly, Riku was thinking too hard about the whole thing. If Kairi suspected anything, she gave no indication that she did.
Sora opened his mouth to say something, but his words were interrupted as Kairi inspected the side of his face, lightly touching his chin to turn his head. “Oh, is that a new one?”
Sora laughed. “Yeah, I just got it yesterday.”
“Wow, it looks so good.” Kairi commented on whatever was on the side of Sora's face that Riku couldn't see. “Look, Riku.” She turned his head far enough that he could just lean slightly forward to look at this apparent anomaly that had taken place on Sora somewhere.
Another tattoo. This one was a stream of navy confetti sized stars crawling like little spiders out from under the collar of his shirt, up the side of his neck. It stopped just below his ear, the one with the diamond stud earring.
Just like the pride tattoo on his back, it was oddly fitting for him, somehow.
“Nice.” Riku commended, leaning back in his seat. Sora just smiled.
“Have enough tattoos now?” Kairi asked, resting her chin on her hand like before. Sora scratched the back of his head, his eyes briefly finding Riku's, who looked back, mildly interested.
“I don't know.” He shrugged. “I think I wanna get, like, 20 more.”
“Sora the ink blot.” Riku snorted, teasing.
“Doesn't it hurt, though?” Kairi shuddered, apparently thinking about tiny needles and small cramped rooms and large, sweaty bikers with bandannas and cigarettes, carving into your skin with some kind of gun like device. At least, that's what Riku was thinking. “I could not do that. And plus, it's permanent.”
Riku agreed. It took courage to do something like that to your body. That level of commitment just went right over his head.
“Yeah, I know.” Sora laughed, looking up when the waiter arrived, handing each of them a menu now that the whole party was present. Riku ordered chicken scaloppine with steamed broccoli and a refill on his tea.
Kairi was busy talking about how excited she was that Charlot was going to be starting preschool soon when the food arrived. Sora was listening intently, sipping periodically from his ice water. Riku lightly rubbed his knee against his leg out of view under the table. Sora smiled, still listening to Kairi, but Riku could tell that smile wasn't for her. It was like their own little secret; it made something shudder happily in his chest.
Sora ordered something called spring vegetable lasagna, which Riku found a little weird. Sora hated vegetables. Or, at least, he used to.
“Oh, that reminds me. I talked to Tidus the other day.” Kairi spoke, spearing a few leaves from her house salad.
Sora tensed, gripping his glass dangerously tight at his side. Riku lightly kicked his leg, giving him a pointed look when he scowled.
“He seemed a little upset.” Kairi continued; she couldn't have noticed what they were doing on the other side of the table. “Did something happen?” She asked knowingly, looking at Riku. “You were getting along pretty well at the opening.”
Goddamn. Did she really have to point that out?
Riku pushed around his chicken with his fork, trying to come up with some plausible answer that didn't involve adultery in any form. Some days this was just too hard. And the glare Sora was shooting into the side of his head wasn't helping much.
“We just...wanted different things. I guess.” He explained painstakingly, glancing at Sora who finally relaxed his death grip on his glass that looked like it might as well have been screaming in pain.
Kairi frowned, giving Riku that little 'aw, poor you' look. “That's too bad.” She said, still frowning as if she were really hoping that he and Tidus would end up together. Riku actually felt bad for a second too. Almost. He and Tidus weren't really all that compatible anyway. It wouldn't have lasted.
Riku told her that, finding that it was the best explanation to at least get her to stop frowning like that. Like Riku was just some poor, loveless bastard. Doomed to die alone.
He speared a broccoli floret and chewed on the stem. Sora hadn't said anything in a while and it was nerve-racking. Not since Tidus' name came up. He really just wouldn't get over it already. So, Riku slept with Tidus. Big deal. It's not like they were married or anything.
The way things were going, Riku doubted they ever would be.
“So how are things with Evann?” He asked aloud, still chewing nonchalantly. Kairi looked up from her food, obviously interested as well.
Sora paused, stilling the hand that was cutting into his lasagna with his fork. He paused, and stared at Riku like he was a stranger seating himself at their table without being invited. Riku had vaguely remembered seeing that expression before.
“Fine.” He answered curtly, his stilled hand resuming its cutting and raised the little corner of spring vegetables and melted cheese to his mouth.
“That's good. And you're happy with him?” Riku asked with all the subtlety of a steel-toed boot to the face, though he kept his voice very flippant.
“Yes.” Sora stressed, a little frown forming between his eyebrows.
“Even though you were only 18 when you got married?” Riku chewed his broccoli still, waving his fork in the air above his plate, stabbing his chicken mercilessly.
“I was almost 19.” Sora argued weakly. Clearly, he couldn't understand why Riku was getting just a little bit upset. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he wouldn't forgive him for any of his past mistakes. Or the fact that he wouldn't even let Riku touch him anywhere above the table because then Kairi would know something was up.
Kairi. The girl that was, like, their mutual best friend.
“Riku.” Kairi looked bewildered, obviously sensing the sudden tension between them. “What are you doing?”
“Making conversation.” Riku said simply, swallowing with a drink of his tea. The girl frowned, looking at Sora, who was slowly shaking his head at his lasagna.
“Are you,” A long pause. “No. You two...are still together?” She asked hesitantly. When neither of them answered, slow realization crossed her face; it was like watching a plane fall out of the sky. “What the hell?” Kairi whispered at first, staring at the both of them as if she had no idea who they were.
“Not real--” Sora said, quickly amending his sentence as soon as he started; he could probably feel the daggers Riku was glaring into the side of his head. “It's really not as bad as it sounds.”
“You're not serious.” Kairi hissed, looming down close to her salad as if that actually made her voice quieter. She reminded Riku of those groups of gossiping girls he used to see huddled together back in high school. “Sora.” She scolded him right away, as if this was just expected behavior from Riku, but not Sora. Oh, no. Never Sora. “You're married.”
“I know-I fucking know that, Kairi. I just--” Sora licked his lips, staring into his lasagna as if it could tell him what he needed to say to get past this moment. “Maybe I don't want to be.”
“Sora--!”
“I love Riku.”
Kairi froze for a second, sparkle pink lip-glossed lips open in mid-protest. Her eyes flickered from Sora to Riku, pausing on Riku a long time. Looking him up and down as if assessing him or something, to see if he really was serious about this too. Then back to Sora.
“I don't like this, guys.” She concluded, finally, as if that wasn't totally obvious already, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you going to tell him? I mean, you are going to tell him?” Sora floundered for a moment, opening his mouth, closing it again.
“Eventually.” Riku said for him. Kairi's eyes flick back over. Sora just stared at his plate.
“Eventually.” She repeated and Riku can tell she was just as enthusiastic as about the implications of that word as he was. Eventually. That meant settle in and grab some decent reading material because eventually wasn't any time too soon.
-
The next morning, something was very wrong.
Sora didn't answer his phone the next morning, or any of Riku's texts. It brought to question the possibility of another fight with Evann, perhaps. Or maybe Sora was having second thoughts about them again, and was just ignoring him on purpose. That was very possible. Riku had a feeling that Sora wasn't totally sold on the getting back together deal, and felt a stinging panic rising in his chest; a small pulsing aneurysm that attached itself to his ribs and steadily grew with each unanswered message.
Riku was still torn between blinding rejection and common sense when he decided to make the trip to Sora's again. Though common sense was arguing that Sora probably wasn't ignoring him on purpose, only a shred of rational thought was keeping him from fully committing to his rejection theory. And a shred was hardly enough to keep Riku sane for long.
Riku felt he should technically be annoyed by all the shameless running around he did for Sora, but then he would look at him with those eyes that begged for affection, and lips that were too sinful and innocent at the same time, and Riku quickly forgot to be angry. It was safe to assume that, whether he liked it or not, he was doomed to be Sora's love-sick soul mate for as long as they both existed and, like some twisted force of nature, it was neither something he could control nor fully understand. Riku just wished he would've realized this back when it really would've made all the difference.
Only halfway out of his car and stepping out into the street, Riku could already tell something was wrong.
There were too many people on the sidewalk, not enough of them actually walking, so much as they are lingering. Lingering was never a good thing. Lingering always meant that was something to stare at. And if something was so incredible that people were actually slowing in their busy days to gawk, chances are it wasn't a good thing.
Right away, Riku could pick out Evann amongst the crowd. His impossibly blond hair making it a little difficult not to look at first. He was pacing, another bad sign. That, and the fact that he was usually gone by now, off to work for the day. Sora was a little harder to find, and Riku still couldn't see him until he was literally 15 feet from the clinic's front door, because he was crouched on the sidewalk, arms wrapped around his knees, staring pretty fervently at the ground before him.
Riku elbowed past the loose knit group of people crowded around the massage clinic for no obvious reason to get to Sora, the words 'what's wrong?' forming in his mouth already before he himself stopped like all the other random bystanders. Standing and staring, and gaping. Frowning and then scowling.
That was just wrong.
“No, I don't-I don't care about that.” Sora's husband talked into his hand, his cell phone hidden somewhere behind his hair that had fallen slightly from its professional-like hairstyle. “Sir, you're not listening to me.” A beat. “I'm not being difficult.”
“Jackass.” Sora muttered, somewhere near Riku's feet, probably referring to the guy on the other line. He looked so small, folded upon himself, like he could just sink into the dirt square around the tree he was kneeling against. People stared and stood around, and Riku just pushed past them all after breaking out of his own stupor, lightly touching the sun-warm chocolate hair to get his attention.
Sora looked up, slowly, his eyes defeated and saddened. He sighed again, heavily, murmuring a pathetic attempt at some kind of greeting. It kind of sounded like a groan, really.
“You okay?” Riku petted his hair, stopping when Sora gave him a short, meaningful glare. As if he couldn't even comfort him without the constant threat of retaliation. It was likely that Sora was just upset though, so Riku tried not to take it too personally. “Do you know who--?”
“No.” Sora muttered automatically, eyes returning to the sidewalk.
“I'm not so much concerned about the content, it's the fucking spray paint on my window that I'm pissed about.” Evann continued talking into his palm, a half-spent cigarette hanging from the same hand, dangerously close to his hair. A coffee cup was in his other hand, he periodically sipped from it. “Yeah, you do that. Thank you for your incompetence.”
He shut his phone, jamming his cigarette between his teeth. “I swear, you marry one fucking guy, and the whole world turns on you.” Whether he was aware that he was talking to no one or not, it wasn't entirely obvious.
“What the fuck happened?” Riku asked, speaking louder now that Evann wasn't on the phone anymore. It was pretty clear what happened, but it was still kind of unbelievable and disorienting. The massage clinic had obviously been vandalized, and by a pretty disgruntled person, by the looks of it.
Sora sighed, leaning heavily against his tree. “I believe this is what you call a hate crime.”
“Some kids, maybe.” Evann shrugged, flicking ashes on the sidewalk. He was either completely lacking in surprise, or at the very least, extremely disenchanted because he didn't seem nearly as blindsided as Sora was. Maybe because the clinic was Sora's baby. “Who knows?”
Sora sighed again, for the hundredth time, deflating forward on his knees. Evann kneeled in front of him, lightly stroking his cheek, looking very apologetic.
“I'm sorry, babe. But, we'll have to deal with this when I get home, okay?” He brushed his thumbs under Sora's eyes though he didn't seem to be crying, leaning in and pressing his mouth over his, for a long, lingering moment. “Sorry.” He apologized again, petting Sora's hair like Riku had done just minutes before, except he didn't get glared at for it. Riku couldn't help but notice.
Riku did his best to ignore the kiss, frowning at the large hateful word on the pane of glass while they whispered sweet, quiet goodbyes to each other. Faggot was such an incredibly unappealing term. And it didn't help that it was scrawled across a six-foot display window in large, black spray painted letters, in plural.
That was just wrong.
“Well, fuck.” Riku said finally. It didn't make any sense. Who would want to hurt Sora? He's like the sweetest person alive, some days, and according to the 'love jar', he was pretty popular with his customers. If Riku didn't know any better, he'd say it was some act of jealousy.
“You had spray paint.” Sora said quietly, somewhere behind him. Riku didn't miss the accusation in his voice, either, staring at him over his shoulder, shoving his hands in his pockets. You are not serious.
“Why would I do this, Sora?” He asked, somehow knowing that it was just a half-formed thought in Sora's head, there was no way he could actually think Riku would vandalize his shop. He wanted Sora to trust him, not hate him forever.
“I don't know.” Sora moaned, obviously fatigued. He wilted against his tree, hands laying on the pavement at his sides. “I'm just so fucking tired of...everything.” Riku watched him slump against the body of the tree like a dying weed, slowly taking his words in.
“It doesn't have to be so difficult, you know.” Riku pointed out, talking about more than the writing on the glass, and whatever else Sora was tired about.
“Just-Don't. I don't want to talk about this now.” Sora dismissed him, before he even got to say what was really on his mind, which was something along the lines of 'divorce your husband now, please.'
“You don't want to talk about a lot of things lately.” Riku muttered, feeling the silent scowl reach his face before he was really aware of it. He fingered the black paint. It was cheap shit, rough to the touch, uneven in places. Clearly done very quickly. The long tendrils of dripping paint stretching from the bottoms of the letters made it even more unsightly. “I think I can get this off. I have a few things back at my apartment I'd have to get first, but it should be fairly easy to remove.”
Sora nodded absently, staring at the sidewalk uselessly.
-
Sora was tired to the point of tears; of course he would never dignify such a ignorant act by actually crying. Still, he could think about crying and ball his hands up into fists and sigh heavily at the sidewalk all morning, and that was almost good enough.
Sora watched Riku's lean frame standing in front of his clinic, listening to the quiet scrape, scrape noise of whatever the hell he was doing to the window. He just returned with the stuff from his apartment and was silently working on removing the black paint. The scraping paused, and Riku bent over to grab the spray bottle at his feet, squeezing the trigger a few times until Sora could smell the ammonia like odor of the liquid inside. Then he went back to scraping.
Guess it helped to have an artist around, Sora thought dryly, kicking at a stem of mulch with the tip of his shoe. Kicking it far across the sidewalk. It then occurred to him that he was probably sitting in shit. Mulch had manure in it sometimes, didn't it?
Sora raised a stick of mulch to his nose, cautiously sniffing it. It didn't smell like manure, so guess he was safe. He played with the stick, watching Riku, the way he moved while working. He seemed very determined.
Riku was still sexy, in that really, really rare way. Because he looked like no one Sora had ever seen before. Because he was completely and totally unique. His eyes were the color of endless oceans. His silver hair resembled water as it draped over his shoulders. Sora never told him, but he always kind of envied his hair, because he could grow it as long as he wanted and still have complete control over it, which was unfair.
Riku was beautiful, actually. And it was really hard not to notice from this angle. The straight line of his spine, the long curves of his shoulder blades. The deep pockets of his jeans that fell just under his ass, giving way to his long legs. Stupid Riku. Sora wasn't supposed to lusting after the idiot, he was supposed to hate him, technically. Because he was selfish and self-centered, and so damn belligerent.
But he wasn't.
Not anymore.
Now he wanted to be so attentive and compassionate. And Sora was just waiting for him to crack because he was going to. Riku can't be nice all the time; it just wasn't his nature to be. And he can't stand competition. Sora knew that first-hand as a kid. Just because they were adults now didn't mean that Riku was going to let it go. Because he wasn't. It was obvious, the way he tensed whenever Evann touched him. Sora always noticed, because Riku would practically stop breathing.
But like he said before, Sora had only forgiven him to a point. Just because he was irresponsibly and ignorantly in love with him again, it didn't mean that he was going to forget what being in love with someone like Riku meant. And he certainly didn't forget the tremendous amount of pain that falling for his best friend had caused him.
So, if he was going to be in this relationship, he was most definitely going to be cautious as hell.
Sora stretched out his legs in front of him and considered standing because, smells aside, he was most likely sitting in manure, he was pretty sure of it. Riku wasn't anywhere near done, he was just scraping the first prong off the F. This caused Sora to sigh again. He really just wanted the fucking thing gone and over with, but it didn't look like that was such an easy task.
Sora really hated people, sometimes.
“This might take a while, Sora.” Riku said, speaking over his shoulder. He sprayed the chemical again, scraping some more. Sora whined a little under his breath, crossing his arms back over his knees. This was really unfair.
His back contorted to fit the slight dip of the rough tree trunk, Sora looked up, watching the smaller limbs move with the light breeze. He wished things were simpler. Like, back then, when it was just fight to survive or fight to protect. Sora wasn't sure what he was fighting for now. Fight to ruin your marriage. Fight to destroy own happiness.
Thankfully the crowds had moved on, only the occasional person stopping to look at the monstrosity of the clinic's front window. It was more humiliating than anything, being labeled like that. It wasn't even the word that bothered him the most-though it did still bother him-it was the fact that someone, somewhere decided to single him out, for no real reason. Hell, they might as well have painted adulterer on there as well, as long as they were pointing out things.
Sora watched the tree and sighed, again. It was the middle of summer, too early for the leaves to change color and fall, too late for the new flowers that showed up for a month and then disappeared like they never existed. It was the middle of summer. Sora used to live for this time of the year.
Sora tried hard to focus on the peaceful sway of the tree, but just as he was getting lost in the gentle movement, shoes scuffed the pavement to his near right. Another person stopping to survey the spectacle of the vulgar word that could be read from clear across the street.
Just a kid. He was tall enough to be in his late teens, probably not much younger than Riku and himself. And he reminded Sora of someone he had met before. Someone blond and arrogant, that smirked with his teeth. Someone scarred and dark, but not evil. He was about his own age. Sora wished he could remember his name. There were so many people he had forgotten over the years, so many friends that he just couldn't recall. Even Leon and the others. Sora had begun to forget how they even looked. It was all so long ago.
The kid was standing there, his arms hanging carelessly at his sides. Watching Riku, watching the window. Watching the curls of black paint hitting the sidewalk as Riku scraped it off. His hands twitched and Sora's attention was drawn immediately to the movement. Staring at the kid's long hands, the black splatter was the first thing Sora noticed. Like a stigma of crawling paint spots running down his fingers.
The hands twitched again, and the last thing Sora could remember clearly was his gaze meeting a pair of dark eyes, and his own trembling limbs. The rest was just a flurry of movement and instinct and adrenaline.
-
Riku paused his scraping to retrieve the spray bottle at his feet when he heard the sudden commotion behind him. His first thoughts were to protect Sora, kind of his knee-jerk reaction, but a quick survey of the scene unfolding told him that maybe it wasn't Sora who needed protecting.
The kid standing at Sora's side tripped straight back on his ass, the breath compressed out of him by both of Sora's hands curled in his shirt and bearing down heavily on his chest. He looked just short of terrified, caught somewhere between fear and panic-stricken aggression. The kid scrambled, twisted under Sora by pure brute strength, scratching his heels on the sidewalk he was hanging half off of. The other half was being literally crushed into the hot street.
“Sora!” Riku lunged forward just as Sora raised his arm back, fisted curled and tight, getting his arms around his waist and pulling him off hard. He fell back on the sidewalk, between Riku's knees, where Riku managed to restrain his wrists, hauling him back a few feet. His whole body was shaking against his legs, his eyes wide and angry and scared, all at the same time.
“The fuck is your problem, man?!” The kid screeched, nursing his gravel-scraped and bloody elbow with his other hand.
Riku pulled Sora to his feet, though his body had gone pretty limp, so essentially he was just dragging him, back across the sidewalk, hiding him inside the clinic before someone called the police because the crazy “faggot” from across the street assaulted a teenager in broad daylight.
“When the hell did you get so violent?” Riku dumped him against the receptionist's desk, pushing a hand through his hair, even though his bangs fell right back in his eyes anyway.
Sora let out a long shaky breath, his eyes still wide and unseeing as he gripped the edge of the desk, leaning forward until his forehead rested against the cool surface.
“I hate people.” He muttered, as if that totally justified everything. He took a few more shaky breaths, sinking to the floor, his hands tight on the desk's edge.
“Yeah, people are horrible. Doesn't change the fact that that was a teenager you pounded into the street just now.” Riku explained, frowning as Sora's trembling breathing turned to hard asthmatic-like gasps. “You can't do things like that Sora. You're an adult...now. Are you okay?”
Sora gasped, hard, choking, coughing on his own saliva, his hands slipping from the desk. He slumped against the front of the hard surface, arms curling around himself.
“Sora?” Riku called, bewildered. He crouched beside him and lightly touched his back, only to be jerked away from.
“Help.” Sora's voice was frantic amongst his fast breathing, his eyes squeezing shut. Riku wrapped an arm around him and Sora shoved at him, hands up instantly. He squirmed away, fighting, but Riku held him in place, trying not to be frightened by whatever was happening and the fact that he didn't understand the expression on Sora's face. It was like he was breaking.
“Sora, stop moving so much.” Riku begged, holding him tighter as he clawed at his arms to get loose. Sora kicked the desk in front of them, twice, muffling a scream in his forearm. Riku rocked him, rubbing his hair soothingly, but it was just making him irritable. His breathing only got faster and harder, his hands weakening more and more every time he tried to free himself.
“Sora!” The door opened, the little bell chiming. Riku vaguely recognized the young receptionist, her wild sun-bleached hair tied high up on her head. “I saw the window. What happen--”
She stopped, mouth falling open slightly as she regarded the situation with quick, wide eyes. The both of them in the middle of the floor, Riku silently freaking out while Sora broke apart in his embrace. “Oh no...” She moaned, dropping her bag in the doorway. She fell into a crouch on Sora's other side, grabbing Riku's wrists.
“Don't hold him like that.” The receptionist, Rikku, scolded, wrenching his arms off of Sora. She pushed him backwards with her hand in the middle of his chest, giving Sora plenty of room. “You're only making it worse.”
Riku sat back, out of the way, feeling helpless as he dropped his hands in his lap. Sora calmed just slightly, his breathing still the same, but he wasn't struggling any more. The girl sat at his side and talked quietly to him. Obviously, she knew what she was doing.
“It's okay, Sora.” Rikku spoke softly, lightly touching his curled fist. “Just breathe, remember? Breathe.” Sora gasped, notably a fraction softer this time, staring at the air in front of him. The girl was just his receptionist; her level of expertise on calming Sora's episode though, suggested that moments like these happened frequently. Frequently enough that she had to learn how to take of it, if she needed to. It was almost disturbing.
“You okay now?” Rikku asked in the same soft tone, lightly fanning him with a folded piece of paper off the desk. Sora was still shaking a little, but he seemed to have enough grasp on his self-control to nod, swallowing hard.
“Sorry...you had to see that.” Sora managed to say, eventually. He wiped his forehead with the side of his hand, cracking a tiny, tiny smile. He sighed, his breathing regulating, but he seemed tired now, boneless.
Riku watched him, still a little wary. He unclenched hands that he hadn't realized had been clenched, sitting back on his heels. He had never felt so incredibly useless before. Sora seemed to be okay now, but still. Sora asked for his help and he couldn't do anything.
“Can you help me up?” Sora asked sheepishly, reaching a hand out Riku where it hung weakly in the air between them. The girl at his side continued to fan him with the paper, giving Riku a look like, “What are you waiting for?”
“Uh, yeah.” Riku got to his feet, grabbing his hand that felt a little bit too warm and pulling him up.
“That was...embarrassing.” Sora apologized again, telling Rikku she could stop fanning him now. She smiled, lightly touching his arm before disappearing into the back room for something.
“What...?”
“Anxiety attack.” Sora explained, looking reasonably embarrassed. “Technically, I'm supposed to be taking medication for it, but it makes my head hurt, so I stopped taking them.” He waved his hand dismissively.
“Is that...bad?” Riku inquired slowly. He was still pretty shaken up, like Sora was going to collapse any second and he wouldn't have a clue what to do if he did. He ran over a few phone numbers in his head, people he could call if he needed to. Sadly, he could only think of two.
“Doesn't help.” Sora shrugged, dropping his shoulders with fatigue.
“You're okay, though?”
“Dizzy.” He assessed finally. “It happens.” Sora assured Riku that he really was fine, once again, telling him that he should probably go back and work on removing the spray paint.
“You sure?” Riku asked, feeling like a broken record. He wondered how many times Sora had these kinds of attacks, and how he never noticed before. Thinking back to the night Sora locked himself in his bathroom, it brought up the question that maybe that's what was really going on in there. And...it was his fault.
“I should probably just stay inside.” Sora told him, moving around the desk with his hand on the edge to steady himself. “Won't have to see that asshole, then...” He muttered that last part, picking through random papers near the computer.
Riku frowned, wanting to ask if it was him, if he was the reason for his anxiety. He wanted to ask, but didn't for the sake of his own sanity. Seriously, Riku had to be real masochist for wanting to know every little thing, only to blame himself for it later. He had to be.
Fandom: Kingdom Hearts
Rating: M
Pairing: Riku/Sora
Genre: Romance, General Angst
Summary: In the uncertain world of adults, Sora and Riku attempt to patch together their shaky relationship after almost 5 years apart. It's about love and hate and lost trust, set in a world where the magic has run dry and the boys see each for who they really are.
Warning; Smut, Language
Sora finally showed up fifteen minutes later, parking his always clean car right across the street. Kairi indulged in the same ritual when he approached their table. Standing, smiling, hugging. Riku figured it was only proper manners to stand as well.
When Riku went to hug Sora, he behaved, giving him that one-armed 'hey there, friend' hug. It was hard not to hold him close like always, and smell his hair and touch all the little curves of his spine. A crowded street café wasn't really the place for forbidden affections. They parted quickly and Sora sat, his chair perfectly centered between the two of them, showing that he had no preference. Clearly, Riku was thinking too hard about the whole thing. If Kairi suspected anything, she gave no indication that she did.
Sora opened his mouth to say something, but his words were interrupted as Kairi inspected the side of his face, lightly touching his chin to turn his head. “Oh, is that a new one?”
Sora laughed. “Yeah, I just got it yesterday.”
“Wow, it looks so good.” Kairi commented on whatever was on the side of Sora's face that Riku couldn't see. “Look, Riku.” She turned his head far enough that he could just lean slightly forward to look at this apparent anomaly that had taken place on Sora somewhere.
Another tattoo. This one was a stream of navy confetti sized stars crawling like little spiders out from under the collar of his shirt, up the side of his neck. It stopped just below his ear, the one with the diamond stud earring.
Just like the pride tattoo on his back, it was oddly fitting for him, somehow.
“Nice.” Riku commended, leaning back in his seat. Sora just smiled.
“Have enough tattoos now?” Kairi asked, resting her chin on her hand like before. Sora scratched the back of his head, his eyes briefly finding Riku's, who looked back, mildly interested.
“I don't know.” He shrugged. “I think I wanna get, like, 20 more.”
“Sora the ink blot.” Riku snorted, teasing.
“Doesn't it hurt, though?” Kairi shuddered, apparently thinking about tiny needles and small cramped rooms and large, sweaty bikers with bandannas and cigarettes, carving into your skin with some kind of gun like device. At least, that's what Riku was thinking. “I could not do that. And plus, it's permanent.”
Riku agreed. It took courage to do something like that to your body. That level of commitment just went right over his head.
“Yeah, I know.” Sora laughed, looking up when the waiter arrived, handing each of them a menu now that the whole party was present. Riku ordered chicken scaloppine with steamed broccoli and a refill on his tea.
Kairi was busy talking about how excited she was that Charlot was going to be starting preschool soon when the food arrived. Sora was listening intently, sipping periodically from his ice water. Riku lightly rubbed his knee against his leg out of view under the table. Sora smiled, still listening to Kairi, but Riku could tell that smile wasn't for her. It was like their own little secret; it made something shudder happily in his chest.
Sora ordered something called spring vegetable lasagna, which Riku found a little weird. Sora hated vegetables. Or, at least, he used to.
“Oh, that reminds me. I talked to Tidus the other day.” Kairi spoke, spearing a few leaves from her house salad.
Sora tensed, gripping his glass dangerously tight at his side. Riku lightly kicked his leg, giving him a pointed look when he scowled.
“He seemed a little upset.” Kairi continued; she couldn't have noticed what they were doing on the other side of the table. “Did something happen?” She asked knowingly, looking at Riku. “You were getting along pretty well at the opening.”
Goddamn. Did she really have to point that out?
Riku pushed around his chicken with his fork, trying to come up with some plausible answer that didn't involve adultery in any form. Some days this was just too hard. And the glare Sora was shooting into the side of his head wasn't helping much.
“We just...wanted different things. I guess.” He explained painstakingly, glancing at Sora who finally relaxed his death grip on his glass that looked like it might as well have been screaming in pain.
Kairi frowned, giving Riku that little 'aw, poor you' look. “That's too bad.” She said, still frowning as if she were really hoping that he and Tidus would end up together. Riku actually felt bad for a second too. Almost. He and Tidus weren't really all that compatible anyway. It wouldn't have lasted.
Riku told her that, finding that it was the best explanation to at least get her to stop frowning like that. Like Riku was just some poor, loveless bastard. Doomed to die alone.
He speared a broccoli floret and chewed on the stem. Sora hadn't said anything in a while and it was nerve-racking. Not since Tidus' name came up. He really just wouldn't get over it already. So, Riku slept with Tidus. Big deal. It's not like they were married or anything.
The way things were going, Riku doubted they ever would be.
“So how are things with Evann?” He asked aloud, still chewing nonchalantly. Kairi looked up from her food, obviously interested as well.
Sora paused, stilling the hand that was cutting into his lasagna with his fork. He paused, and stared at Riku like he was a stranger seating himself at their table without being invited. Riku had vaguely remembered seeing that expression before.
“Fine.” He answered curtly, his stilled hand resuming its cutting and raised the little corner of spring vegetables and melted cheese to his mouth.
“That's good. And you're happy with him?” Riku asked with all the subtlety of a steel-toed boot to the face, though he kept his voice very flippant.
“Yes.” Sora stressed, a little frown forming between his eyebrows.
“Even though you were only 18 when you got married?” Riku chewed his broccoli still, waving his fork in the air above his plate, stabbing his chicken mercilessly.
“I was almost 19.” Sora argued weakly. Clearly, he couldn't understand why Riku was getting just a little bit upset. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he wouldn't forgive him for any of his past mistakes. Or the fact that he wouldn't even let Riku touch him anywhere above the table because then Kairi would know something was up.
Kairi. The girl that was, like, their mutual best friend.
“Riku.” Kairi looked bewildered, obviously sensing the sudden tension between them. “What are you doing?”
“Making conversation.” Riku said simply, swallowing with a drink of his tea. The girl frowned, looking at Sora, who was slowly shaking his head at his lasagna.
“Are you,” A long pause. “No. You two...are still together?” She asked hesitantly. When neither of them answered, slow realization crossed her face; it was like watching a plane fall out of the sky. “What the hell?” Kairi whispered at first, staring at the both of them as if she had no idea who they were.
“Not real--” Sora said, quickly amending his sentence as soon as he started; he could probably feel the daggers Riku was glaring into the side of his head. “It's really not as bad as it sounds.”
“You're not serious.” Kairi hissed, looming down close to her salad as if that actually made her voice quieter. She reminded Riku of those groups of gossiping girls he used to see huddled together back in high school. “Sora.” She scolded him right away, as if this was just expected behavior from Riku, but not Sora. Oh, no. Never Sora. “You're married.”
“I know-I fucking know that, Kairi. I just--” Sora licked his lips, staring into his lasagna as if it could tell him what he needed to say to get past this moment. “Maybe I don't want to be.”
“Sora--!”
“I love Riku.”
Kairi froze for a second, sparkle pink lip-glossed lips open in mid-protest. Her eyes flickered from Sora to Riku, pausing on Riku a long time. Looking him up and down as if assessing him or something, to see if he really was serious about this too. Then back to Sora.
“I don't like this, guys.” She concluded, finally, as if that wasn't totally obvious already, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are you going to tell him? I mean, you are going to tell him?” Sora floundered for a moment, opening his mouth, closing it again.
“Eventually.” Riku said for him. Kairi's eyes flick back over. Sora just stared at his plate.
“Eventually.” She repeated and Riku can tell she was just as enthusiastic as about the implications of that word as he was. Eventually. That meant settle in and grab some decent reading material because eventually wasn't any time too soon.
-
The next morning, something was very wrong.
Sora didn't answer his phone the next morning, or any of Riku's texts. It brought to question the possibility of another fight with Evann, perhaps. Or maybe Sora was having second thoughts about them again, and was just ignoring him on purpose. That was very possible. Riku had a feeling that Sora wasn't totally sold on the getting back together deal, and felt a stinging panic rising in his chest; a small pulsing aneurysm that attached itself to his ribs and steadily grew with each unanswered message.
Riku was still torn between blinding rejection and common sense when he decided to make the trip to Sora's again. Though common sense was arguing that Sora probably wasn't ignoring him on purpose, only a shred of rational thought was keeping him from fully committing to his rejection theory. And a shred was hardly enough to keep Riku sane for long.
Riku felt he should technically be annoyed by all the shameless running around he did for Sora, but then he would look at him with those eyes that begged for affection, and lips that were too sinful and innocent at the same time, and Riku quickly forgot to be angry. It was safe to assume that, whether he liked it or not, he was doomed to be Sora's love-sick soul mate for as long as they both existed and, like some twisted force of nature, it was neither something he could control nor fully understand. Riku just wished he would've realized this back when it really would've made all the difference.
Only halfway out of his car and stepping out into the street, Riku could already tell something was wrong.
There were too many people on the sidewalk, not enough of them actually walking, so much as they are lingering. Lingering was never a good thing. Lingering always meant that was something to stare at. And if something was so incredible that people were actually slowing in their busy days to gawk, chances are it wasn't a good thing.
Right away, Riku could pick out Evann amongst the crowd. His impossibly blond hair making it a little difficult not to look at first. He was pacing, another bad sign. That, and the fact that he was usually gone by now, off to work for the day. Sora was a little harder to find, and Riku still couldn't see him until he was literally 15 feet from the clinic's front door, because he was crouched on the sidewalk, arms wrapped around his knees, staring pretty fervently at the ground before him.
Riku elbowed past the loose knit group of people crowded around the massage clinic for no obvious reason to get to Sora, the words 'what's wrong?' forming in his mouth already before he himself stopped like all the other random bystanders. Standing and staring, and gaping. Frowning and then scowling.
That was just wrong.
“No, I don't-I don't care about that.” Sora's husband talked into his hand, his cell phone hidden somewhere behind his hair that had fallen slightly from its professional-like hairstyle. “Sir, you're not listening to me.” A beat. “I'm not being difficult.”
“Jackass.” Sora muttered, somewhere near Riku's feet, probably referring to the guy on the other line. He looked so small, folded upon himself, like he could just sink into the dirt square around the tree he was kneeling against. People stared and stood around, and Riku just pushed past them all after breaking out of his own stupor, lightly touching the sun-warm chocolate hair to get his attention.
Sora looked up, slowly, his eyes defeated and saddened. He sighed again, heavily, murmuring a pathetic attempt at some kind of greeting. It kind of sounded like a groan, really.
“You okay?” Riku petted his hair, stopping when Sora gave him a short, meaningful glare. As if he couldn't even comfort him without the constant threat of retaliation. It was likely that Sora was just upset though, so Riku tried not to take it too personally. “Do you know who--?”
“No.” Sora muttered automatically, eyes returning to the sidewalk.
“I'm not so much concerned about the content, it's the fucking spray paint on my window that I'm pissed about.” Evann continued talking into his palm, a half-spent cigarette hanging from the same hand, dangerously close to his hair. A coffee cup was in his other hand, he periodically sipped from it. “Yeah, you do that. Thank you for your incompetence.”
He shut his phone, jamming his cigarette between his teeth. “I swear, you marry one fucking guy, and the whole world turns on you.” Whether he was aware that he was talking to no one or not, it wasn't entirely obvious.
“What the fuck happened?” Riku asked, speaking louder now that Evann wasn't on the phone anymore. It was pretty clear what happened, but it was still kind of unbelievable and disorienting. The massage clinic had obviously been vandalized, and by a pretty disgruntled person, by the looks of it.
Sora sighed, leaning heavily against his tree. “I believe this is what you call a hate crime.”
“Some kids, maybe.” Evann shrugged, flicking ashes on the sidewalk. He was either completely lacking in surprise, or at the very least, extremely disenchanted because he didn't seem nearly as blindsided as Sora was. Maybe because the clinic was Sora's baby. “Who knows?”
Sora sighed again, for the hundredth time, deflating forward on his knees. Evann kneeled in front of him, lightly stroking his cheek, looking very apologetic.
“I'm sorry, babe. But, we'll have to deal with this when I get home, okay?” He brushed his thumbs under Sora's eyes though he didn't seem to be crying, leaning in and pressing his mouth over his, for a long, lingering moment. “Sorry.” He apologized again, petting Sora's hair like Riku had done just minutes before, except he didn't get glared at for it. Riku couldn't help but notice.
Riku did his best to ignore the kiss, frowning at the large hateful word on the pane of glass while they whispered sweet, quiet goodbyes to each other. Faggot was such an incredibly unappealing term. And it didn't help that it was scrawled across a six-foot display window in large, black spray painted letters, in plural.
That was just wrong.
“Well, fuck.” Riku said finally. It didn't make any sense. Who would want to hurt Sora? He's like the sweetest person alive, some days, and according to the 'love jar', he was pretty popular with his customers. If Riku didn't know any better, he'd say it was some act of jealousy.
“You had spray paint.” Sora said quietly, somewhere behind him. Riku didn't miss the accusation in his voice, either, staring at him over his shoulder, shoving his hands in his pockets. You are not serious.
“Why would I do this, Sora?” He asked, somehow knowing that it was just a half-formed thought in Sora's head, there was no way he could actually think Riku would vandalize his shop. He wanted Sora to trust him, not hate him forever.
“I don't know.” Sora moaned, obviously fatigued. He wilted against his tree, hands laying on the pavement at his sides. “I'm just so fucking tired of...everything.” Riku watched him slump against the body of the tree like a dying weed, slowly taking his words in.
“It doesn't have to be so difficult, you know.” Riku pointed out, talking about more than the writing on the glass, and whatever else Sora was tired about.
“Just-Don't. I don't want to talk about this now.” Sora dismissed him, before he even got to say what was really on his mind, which was something along the lines of 'divorce your husband now, please.'
“You don't want to talk about a lot of things lately.” Riku muttered, feeling the silent scowl reach his face before he was really aware of it. He fingered the black paint. It was cheap shit, rough to the touch, uneven in places. Clearly done very quickly. The long tendrils of dripping paint stretching from the bottoms of the letters made it even more unsightly. “I think I can get this off. I have a few things back at my apartment I'd have to get first, but it should be fairly easy to remove.”
Sora nodded absently, staring at the sidewalk uselessly.
-
Sora was tired to the point of tears; of course he would never dignify such a ignorant act by actually crying. Still, he could think about crying and ball his hands up into fists and sigh heavily at the sidewalk all morning, and that was almost good enough.
Sora watched Riku's lean frame standing in front of his clinic, listening to the quiet scrape, scrape noise of whatever the hell he was doing to the window. He just returned with the stuff from his apartment and was silently working on removing the black paint. The scraping paused, and Riku bent over to grab the spray bottle at his feet, squeezing the trigger a few times until Sora could smell the ammonia like odor of the liquid inside. Then he went back to scraping.
Guess it helped to have an artist around, Sora thought dryly, kicking at a stem of mulch with the tip of his shoe. Kicking it far across the sidewalk. It then occurred to him that he was probably sitting in shit. Mulch had manure in it sometimes, didn't it?
Sora raised a stick of mulch to his nose, cautiously sniffing it. It didn't smell like manure, so guess he was safe. He played with the stick, watching Riku, the way he moved while working. He seemed very determined.
Riku was still sexy, in that really, really rare way. Because he looked like no one Sora had ever seen before. Because he was completely and totally unique. His eyes were the color of endless oceans. His silver hair resembled water as it draped over his shoulders. Sora never told him, but he always kind of envied his hair, because he could grow it as long as he wanted and still have complete control over it, which was unfair.
Riku was beautiful, actually. And it was really hard not to notice from this angle. The straight line of his spine, the long curves of his shoulder blades. The deep pockets of his jeans that fell just under his ass, giving way to his long legs. Stupid Riku. Sora wasn't supposed to lusting after the idiot, he was supposed to hate him, technically. Because he was selfish and self-centered, and so damn belligerent.
But he wasn't.
Not anymore.
Now he wanted to be so attentive and compassionate. And Sora was just waiting for him to crack because he was going to. Riku can't be nice all the time; it just wasn't his nature to be. And he can't stand competition. Sora knew that first-hand as a kid. Just because they were adults now didn't mean that Riku was going to let it go. Because he wasn't. It was obvious, the way he tensed whenever Evann touched him. Sora always noticed, because Riku would practically stop breathing.
But like he said before, Sora had only forgiven him to a point. Just because he was irresponsibly and ignorantly in love with him again, it didn't mean that he was going to forget what being in love with someone like Riku meant. And he certainly didn't forget the tremendous amount of pain that falling for his best friend had caused him.
So, if he was going to be in this relationship, he was most definitely going to be cautious as hell.
Sora stretched out his legs in front of him and considered standing because, smells aside, he was most likely sitting in manure, he was pretty sure of it. Riku wasn't anywhere near done, he was just scraping the first prong off the F. This caused Sora to sigh again. He really just wanted the fucking thing gone and over with, but it didn't look like that was such an easy task.
Sora really hated people, sometimes.
“This might take a while, Sora.” Riku said, speaking over his shoulder. He sprayed the chemical again, scraping some more. Sora whined a little under his breath, crossing his arms back over his knees. This was really unfair.
His back contorted to fit the slight dip of the rough tree trunk, Sora looked up, watching the smaller limbs move with the light breeze. He wished things were simpler. Like, back then, when it was just fight to survive or fight to protect. Sora wasn't sure what he was fighting for now. Fight to ruin your marriage. Fight to destroy own happiness.
Thankfully the crowds had moved on, only the occasional person stopping to look at the monstrosity of the clinic's front window. It was more humiliating than anything, being labeled like that. It wasn't even the word that bothered him the most-though it did still bother him-it was the fact that someone, somewhere decided to single him out, for no real reason. Hell, they might as well have painted adulterer on there as well, as long as they were pointing out things.
Sora watched the tree and sighed, again. It was the middle of summer, too early for the leaves to change color and fall, too late for the new flowers that showed up for a month and then disappeared like they never existed. It was the middle of summer. Sora used to live for this time of the year.
Sora tried hard to focus on the peaceful sway of the tree, but just as he was getting lost in the gentle movement, shoes scuffed the pavement to his near right. Another person stopping to survey the spectacle of the vulgar word that could be read from clear across the street.
Just a kid. He was tall enough to be in his late teens, probably not much younger than Riku and himself. And he reminded Sora of someone he had met before. Someone blond and arrogant, that smirked with his teeth. Someone scarred and dark, but not evil. He was about his own age. Sora wished he could remember his name. There were so many people he had forgotten over the years, so many friends that he just couldn't recall. Even Leon and the others. Sora had begun to forget how they even looked. It was all so long ago.
The kid was standing there, his arms hanging carelessly at his sides. Watching Riku, watching the window. Watching the curls of black paint hitting the sidewalk as Riku scraped it off. His hands twitched and Sora's attention was drawn immediately to the movement. Staring at the kid's long hands, the black splatter was the first thing Sora noticed. Like a stigma of crawling paint spots running down his fingers.
The hands twitched again, and the last thing Sora could remember clearly was his gaze meeting a pair of dark eyes, and his own trembling limbs. The rest was just a flurry of movement and instinct and adrenaline.
-
Riku paused his scraping to retrieve the spray bottle at his feet when he heard the sudden commotion behind him. His first thoughts were to protect Sora, kind of his knee-jerk reaction, but a quick survey of the scene unfolding told him that maybe it wasn't Sora who needed protecting.
The kid standing at Sora's side tripped straight back on his ass, the breath compressed out of him by both of Sora's hands curled in his shirt and bearing down heavily on his chest. He looked just short of terrified, caught somewhere between fear and panic-stricken aggression. The kid scrambled, twisted under Sora by pure brute strength, scratching his heels on the sidewalk he was hanging half off of. The other half was being literally crushed into the hot street.
“Sora!” Riku lunged forward just as Sora raised his arm back, fisted curled and tight, getting his arms around his waist and pulling him off hard. He fell back on the sidewalk, between Riku's knees, where Riku managed to restrain his wrists, hauling him back a few feet. His whole body was shaking against his legs, his eyes wide and angry and scared, all at the same time.
“The fuck is your problem, man?!” The kid screeched, nursing his gravel-scraped and bloody elbow with his other hand.
Riku pulled Sora to his feet, though his body had gone pretty limp, so essentially he was just dragging him, back across the sidewalk, hiding him inside the clinic before someone called the police because the crazy “faggot” from across the street assaulted a teenager in broad daylight.
“When the hell did you get so violent?” Riku dumped him against the receptionist's desk, pushing a hand through his hair, even though his bangs fell right back in his eyes anyway.
Sora let out a long shaky breath, his eyes still wide and unseeing as he gripped the edge of the desk, leaning forward until his forehead rested against the cool surface.
“I hate people.” He muttered, as if that totally justified everything. He took a few more shaky breaths, sinking to the floor, his hands tight on the desk's edge.
“Yeah, people are horrible. Doesn't change the fact that that was a teenager you pounded into the street just now.” Riku explained, frowning as Sora's trembling breathing turned to hard asthmatic-like gasps. “You can't do things like that Sora. You're an adult...now. Are you okay?”
Sora gasped, hard, choking, coughing on his own saliva, his hands slipping from the desk. He slumped against the front of the hard surface, arms curling around himself.
“Sora?” Riku called, bewildered. He crouched beside him and lightly touched his back, only to be jerked away from.
“Help.” Sora's voice was frantic amongst his fast breathing, his eyes squeezing shut. Riku wrapped an arm around him and Sora shoved at him, hands up instantly. He squirmed away, fighting, but Riku held him in place, trying not to be frightened by whatever was happening and the fact that he didn't understand the expression on Sora's face. It was like he was breaking.
“Sora, stop moving so much.” Riku begged, holding him tighter as he clawed at his arms to get loose. Sora kicked the desk in front of them, twice, muffling a scream in his forearm. Riku rocked him, rubbing his hair soothingly, but it was just making him irritable. His breathing only got faster and harder, his hands weakening more and more every time he tried to free himself.
“Sora!” The door opened, the little bell chiming. Riku vaguely recognized the young receptionist, her wild sun-bleached hair tied high up on her head. “I saw the window. What happen--”
She stopped, mouth falling open slightly as she regarded the situation with quick, wide eyes. The both of them in the middle of the floor, Riku silently freaking out while Sora broke apart in his embrace. “Oh no...” She moaned, dropping her bag in the doorway. She fell into a crouch on Sora's other side, grabbing Riku's wrists.
“Don't hold him like that.” The receptionist, Rikku, scolded, wrenching his arms off of Sora. She pushed him backwards with her hand in the middle of his chest, giving Sora plenty of room. “You're only making it worse.”
Riku sat back, out of the way, feeling helpless as he dropped his hands in his lap. Sora calmed just slightly, his breathing still the same, but he wasn't struggling any more. The girl sat at his side and talked quietly to him. Obviously, she knew what she was doing.
“It's okay, Sora.” Rikku spoke softly, lightly touching his curled fist. “Just breathe, remember? Breathe.” Sora gasped, notably a fraction softer this time, staring at the air in front of him. The girl was just his receptionist; her level of expertise on calming Sora's episode though, suggested that moments like these happened frequently. Frequently enough that she had to learn how to take of it, if she needed to. It was almost disturbing.
“You okay now?” Rikku asked in the same soft tone, lightly fanning him with a folded piece of paper off the desk. Sora was still shaking a little, but he seemed to have enough grasp on his self-control to nod, swallowing hard.
“Sorry...you had to see that.” Sora managed to say, eventually. He wiped his forehead with the side of his hand, cracking a tiny, tiny smile. He sighed, his breathing regulating, but he seemed tired now, boneless.
Riku watched him, still a little wary. He unclenched hands that he hadn't realized had been clenched, sitting back on his heels. He had never felt so incredibly useless before. Sora seemed to be okay now, but still. Sora asked for his help and he couldn't do anything.
“Can you help me up?” Sora asked sheepishly, reaching a hand out Riku where it hung weakly in the air between them. The girl at his side continued to fan him with the paper, giving Riku a look like, “What are you waiting for?”
“Uh, yeah.” Riku got to his feet, grabbing his hand that felt a little bit too warm and pulling him up.
“That was...embarrassing.” Sora apologized again, telling Rikku she could stop fanning him now. She smiled, lightly touching his arm before disappearing into the back room for something.
“What...?”
“Anxiety attack.” Sora explained, looking reasonably embarrassed. “Technically, I'm supposed to be taking medication for it, but it makes my head hurt, so I stopped taking them.” He waved his hand dismissively.
“Is that...bad?” Riku inquired slowly. He was still pretty shaken up, like Sora was going to collapse any second and he wouldn't have a clue what to do if he did. He ran over a few phone numbers in his head, people he could call if he needed to. Sadly, he could only think of two.
“Doesn't help.” Sora shrugged, dropping his shoulders with fatigue.
“You're okay, though?”
“Dizzy.” He assessed finally. “It happens.” Sora assured Riku that he really was fine, once again, telling him that he should probably go back and work on removing the spray paint.
“You sure?” Riku asked, feeling like a broken record. He wondered how many times Sora had these kinds of attacks, and how he never noticed before. Thinking back to the night Sora locked himself in his bathroom, it brought up the question that maybe that's what was really going on in there. And...it was his fault.
“I should probably just stay inside.” Sora told him, moving around the desk with his hand on the edge to steady himself. “Won't have to see that asshole, then...” He muttered that last part, picking through random papers near the computer.
Riku frowned, wanting to ask if it was him, if he was the reason for his anxiety. He wanted to ask, but didn't for the sake of his own sanity. Seriously, Riku had to be real masochist for wanting to know every little thing, only to blame himself for it later. He had to be.