ReitaxRuki - Behind Closed Eyes [2/?]
Title: Behind Closed Eyes - [2/?]
Author: ccgensou
Genre: Angst
Rating: R
Warning: Eating Disorders, Self-Injury, Gore, Language, Violence.
Band: The GazettE
Pairing: Reita/Ruki
Summary: We're all blind.
Comments: This chapter came out weird, and, the only thing to blame is that I was in a bad mood and ended up writing... that scene in the middle, you'll know what I mean. I don't know. *sigh* Okay. *pulls shoebox over head*
Previous:
Prologue.
Chapter 1
~
did you -
block the handle
blow out the candle
did you -
let out a yelp
scream out for help
did you -
try to hide
run away from my side
or was it me
did I -
stand in your way,
or did I -
scare you away?
Chapter 2 .
The glass is tipping, the water is rippling, the glass is shattering, the shards are clattering.
My hand tightens around the edge of the kitchen counter, resisting the urge to slam my fist against something, hard. Damn it all. The frustration I am feeling is breaking into the routines of my life. With a shaky sigh I drop down to a crouch, eyes roaming over the mess of water and shards of glass. This is your fault, Ruki… No. I close my eyes, concentrating only on breathing steadily, calmly. It’s not his fault, never his fault, I should never, ever, blame him again. But when I open my eyes, I am defeated. There is one reason that I am so distracted, one reason that my mind is spinning, one reason alone that I can’t focus on anything I should be doing. And that reason, is Ruki.
I haven’t seen him in three days, and somehow, that worries me more than I can understand. Today at practise, Kai said: "Let’s take a break. This is going nowhere. When things are alright again, please let us know." And though there should be no way for him to know, he added to my responsibility to help Ruki, help him not only for the sake of him and I, but for the band. For everything. This is why I feel so frustrated. Why I feel so at loss, grasping and feeling my way through a labyrinth with a blindfold over my eyes. Because I do not understand. I do not know what is wrong, do not know how to help him, how to make things alright again. I just don’t.
-
Ruki knew exactly what was wrong.
And he knew why it was wrong, how it was wrong, and yes, he knew very well who was the one at fault. That was him, and his freakish inability to ever, ever, ever be good enough. Despite how the world was swaying around him, despite how his chest was searing with pain, Ruki took to the stairs instead of the lift to get up to his apartment, hand gripping the staircase handrail, feeling like he would tumble down if he did not hold onto it for his dear life. Just. A. Few. More. Steps. Please. What felt like an eternity later, he stumbled as he came to stand in front of his apartment door. His throat was burning, raspy hot and itchy with yearning; for food, water, pills to faint or drinks to forget, he didn’t really, honestly care. Except he did. He cared too much and that was the core of the stupid problem, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that just wonderful. Ruki’s door slammed shut behind him. Home.
The silence he had anticipated was not there. There was a loud riiiiiing screaming in his ears, continuously just riiiiiing, riiiiiing, riiiiiing. Ruki just couldn’t take it. Tumbling towards the living room, he let his exhausted body fall down onto the wooden floor in front of the phone. Pulling the plug. Silencing the devil’s sound, but it was… too late. Eyes watering, he turned over to lie on his side, curling up into a small ball as he gasped, sobbed, throat burning as air wheezed through like cold fire. He just couldn’t take it anymore. Slipping his hands under his shirt, fingernails were digging into fleshy hideous fat as he embraced himself - a hollow echo of a real hug, a painful mocking of Reita holding him. This was what the bassist had held. This fat body of failure. This person he was, unworthy of his kindness.
Many would say Ruki was insane. Yet Ruki, he knew he was right.
-
The car is speeding down the streets.
It is a wonder, every time its driver manages to get it to a screeching halt at red lights. The car is mine and… the driver happens to be me, trying my best to navigate through the streets to get to Ruki. It’s the fifth day of nothing. The fifth day of silence from the petite vocalist. I’m getting sick with worry, tired from lack of sleep, frustrated at myself for being so unsure of what to do. Under any normal circumstances I would have been there in the blink of an eye, ready to find out what’s going on, ready to help - but I’ve had to realise, had to admit to myself, that things are no longer the same.
He‘s the one my heart is racing for. And as stupid as it may seem, these feelings keep me away from him, away from his presence, because I can no longer be sure of my own actions, no longer be sure of what I’d do, what would happen, being around him when he’s constantly put in vulnerable situations. I hate myself for it, but I have stolen more than one kiss, more than one forbidden touch from him when he’s been unconscious. He would hate me, too, if he knew. He would push me away, if he knew. And although those things are exactly what I do to myself, it would shatter my heart in so many different ways if he were the one to take the distance, the one to hate me. I can handle my own hate, but Ruki’s? No. Just… no, never.
As I turn the last corner and his apartment building comes into view before me, the first rush of cold feet hits me. I consider making a u-turn, right there, in the middle of the street, and speed away, so far away, but my fists clench the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white and I do not turn. Instead I bring my car to a stop in the first empty slot I can find, shutting down the engine. In the silence that follows, I listen to my pounding heart, and wait, quietly, as the seconds catch up with me. Part of me doesn’t want to leave the car, yet, another part of me is asking why I haven’t moved an inch, why I’m just sitting here, staring out at the building towering before me. What, exactly, am I scared of?
It is a few minutes later that my car is locked and left behind me as I head towards what I know by heart is the door to Ruki’s apartment building. There is anticipation - but also dread. I’m wondering, as I hit the button to take the lift to the fourth floor, if this is how things will be, from now on. I’m wondering, as I step out of the lift, if I could handle it if this were the case. I’m wondering, as I knock on his door, if… loving him will be enough. Because I just don’t know what else I can give him, and that confuses me. But despite this confusion, there are still patterns, things I can recognise in him and situations I know how to handle. That is why I take up my copy of his key, much like he did when I locked myself in my apartment, and insert it into the keyhole after minutes of waiting in quiet nothing.
"Ruki?" His apartment is quiet. "Ruki, are you home?" Except I’m wrong; there’s a soft drizzling sound of water, somewhere, but not loud enough to imply that he’s in the shower. A tap running, then. Where is he? "Ruki?" When there is no reply after the third time of calling his name, I take a moment to take my shoes off, my movements carefully measured to give him enough time to accept that I am here - accept, but not hide. The sound of the water dies out to be replaced with complete silence; but before that, there’s the gentle squeak of metal telling me where he is. Bathroom. Though there’s hesitation in my heart, I make my way towards where I know the said room is. The apartment is overly tidy around me, but when my eyes wander into the living room as I pass it, I take sight of an uncharacteristically messy living room table. My heart reaches out for him as I recognise empty pints of ice cream, a half-eaten cake, candy wrappers and open boxes of cookies. Ruki. He’s been comfort eating. A feeling of sadness lodges into my mind as I avert my eyes and quickly close behind me the remaining steps to the bathroom door.
Light is flooding out of the thin crack between the door and the doorframe, shifting smoothly as someone moves on the other side, coming to rest at such a place that suggests he’s sitting on the floor. Oh, Ruki. With a soft sigh leaving my lips, I sit down on the floor, back against the wall beside it. There’s no need to announce my presence, no need to… use any words to try to get him to open up. Doors and doors, everywhere I look there are doors I cannot get past; locked ones, guarded ones, ones defended by pride and those defended by love. You frustrate me so much, do you know that, Ruki? Years of friendship, and this is the reward? The moment this thought crosses my mind, I chastise myself, but I just can’t help to wonder where this is going.
"Ruki…" The name is merely a whisper past my lips, but the shadow trembles on the other side of the door. With a pained smile, I let one of my hands rest against the wood of the door. "Say something", I plead softly, wishing for reassurance, or perhaps just, simply, to hear his voice. In the prolonged silence my smile threatens to fail, but I keep it up faithfully, refusing to falter. "Just anything", I whisper, confident that he will hear me through the prickling silence. My heart is beating in my chest and I bite my lower lip, wondering briefly if I should or shouldn‘t say it, but the words escapes me still, "Let me hear your voice, Ruki… That’s all I’m asking for, I promise. Nothing more." It’s difficult to keep the tremble from my voice, but somehow I manage. I mouth out a quiet please, closing my eyes, counting my heartbeats as silence continues to dominate. Ruki.
"Rei…?"
My eyes fly open at his hesitant, quiet voice - and upon hearing him, a gush of relief courses through my whole being. It’s peculiar, sometimes, how little things can become so important, but in situations like these, everything he does - every word he speaks, comes to mean the world to me. "I’m here", I say, even though he already knows it, even though in any normal circumstance he would’ve laughed at me for being so cheesy, so silly. Lowering my eyes to the floor, I try to think of something else to say, something else to do, but I’m only a man. Only a man, and he’s only - such a large part of my life that in my fear of losing him, I’m afraid of doing things; too afraid to take risks. "I’m not leaving", I continue, and at first I am hesitant, somewhat uncertain, but in the split second that follows I realise I have no option than to follow it through. "I’m going to sit here, and wait until you decide it’s time to get your cute little ass out of there." I’m hiding my emotions in a joking tone. But it’s not only for me, it’s for him, as well, that I try to lighten the mood, even if I know painfully well how futile the attempt is.
The light under the door shifts slightly. "You’re so weird, Rei", comes the quiet response. So weak, so fragile that my concern only rises higher with every passing second, even if the corresponding worry is somehow eased as I notice that he must’ve moved closer to the door.
"I’m not", I argue, daring myself to taking a risk by playing along. "Anyone’d do the same for a cute puppy such as you." Biting my lip, I immediately sense that I said something wrong. It’s so difficult, Ruki, it’s so difficult knowing what is right and what is wrong around you. Help me. Teach me how to help you. There’s a pang of loneliness in my heart, because I know that he won’t. Half-cuddled against the wall, I watch my hand, still lying against the wood of the door. I make a split-second decision. "Let me touch your hand."
Silence. And then, "What?"
"Put your hand on the door", I instruct with a soft voice, and for the sake of my pride I am happy that he cannot see the rosy colour on my cheeks. "If you sit down, it’s shoulder height, a palm’s width away from the doorframe" I add, after a quick check where, exactly, my hand is held. I find myself holding my breath, waiting for him to say something, telling me if he will do as I say, or not.
But, "Why?" is all he asks.
I don’t know why. "Just… Please." Perhaps I want to be near you but your doors are blocking me. I count heartbeats. One, two, three… seven, eight… twelve, thirteen, fourteen -
"Here?" he asks quietly, after moments of silence, as if he thinks I could see through the wood, or feel the warmth of his hand. With a faint smile playing on my lips, I nod, breathing out a small, confirming yes, just barely loud enough for him to hear it. Because what does it matter, really, if a few inches are wrong. What does it matter, really, if wood separates us. The knowledge alone that his hand is pressed against mine, willingly, without complaint, through the silliness the gesture really holds, is enough to make my heart soften. "Rei?" he whispers.
"Yeah?"
"Tell me a story."
-
His voice was soothing.
It wasn’t so much that he wanted to hear a story as it was that he just wanted to hear his voice, speaking only to him, keeping him company. Reita told him a story about a little boy, and though it was clear to Ruki that he was making it up as he went on, he found himself listening as intently as if it were the masterpiece of the century. He rested his forehead against the door, a dull ache pounding through it. Reita kept a very gentle tone, Ruki noticed as he closed his eyes. A smile flickered briefly over his lips as he tried to imagine what it would be like if the bassist would be sitting on his bed telling him a bedtime story, watching him falling asleep. Oh, how safe he would feel. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to shift closer to the door, closer to the voice, closer, closer to Reita without being in his arms.
Time passed like this, with the bassist telling a simple story, and Ruki listening faithfully, all the while with their hands joined through thought when not by touch. In these moments, he could almost pretend that life was okay, that everything would be perfectly okay. He could pretend, if only for a while, that he could be enough for the bassist. Pretend that his skin wasn’t prickling from dried-on sweat, pretend that his throat and nose didn’t burn because of earlier panic making him hurry in the midst. He could, almost, forget the shame that nestled inside him, forget that Reita had been so close to walking in on one of the most humiliating aspects of his life. But only almost.
"… the end."
Ruki smiled faintly and opened his eyes, feeling strangely calm after Reita had completed his request for a story. He knew the feeling would only be momentary, but it was moments like these that reminded him why he was still trying, still fighting. He wanted to tell Reita the extent of his gratitude; he wanted to make him understand just how much his presence meant to him, but in the end, words failed him. "Thank you", was the only thing he managed to get out, taking a deep breath.
There was a pause, almost hesitant, before Reita’s voice reached him again, saying: "Happy to be at your service." And no matter how much Ruki searched the words, he couldn’t find the sarcasm he thought must be there. He couldn’t find annoyance, he couldn’t find anything that would imply that the beautiful man on the other side of the door minded, in any way, to do this for him. Ruki lowered his eyes to the floor as a blush warmed his cheeks. Silly Reita. But that was when said man came with a suggestion: "Why don’t you open the door", and with that Ruki’s world came crashing down.
"Oh", he breathed out, instinctively shying away from the door he had leaned heavily against only mere seconds ago. "I can’t", he hurriedly said, blushing as he heard how poorly disguised the panic was in his voice.
Pause. And then: "Why can’t you?"
"Because - " Ruki tried to start, but cut himself off before he said something stupid. Clenching his eyes tightly shut, he took a deep breath before trying again. "Because I look a mess, okay?" And I don’t want you seeing me like this, he added to himself, chewing nervously at his lower lip. He made a quick decision and added, "I - I think I’m going to take a shower, so just - go?" Picking himself up from the floor on unsteady feet, Ruki tried to ignore how uncertain his voice sounded, as he came to stand in front of the mirror above the sink. It was true, he looked dirty; unclean and filthy. His hair was hanging heavy around a pale pink-flushed face, while tired, unfocused eyes stared from underneath runaway strands. "Please", he added quietly, almost to himself , but he knew the other man must’ve heard him. How could he not have, in this stretching silence?
"I’m not leaving, Ruki", Reita finally replied, calmly, patiently. "I told you that." And though he only meant well, though he only cared, those words sent a flare of impatient frustration through Ruki’s mind. "If you want, I can go fetch you a fresh towel and a change of clothes and put them outside the door for you?" Silence. "And then I can wait in the kitchen and have some tea ready for you when you’re done. Okay?"
He wasn’t giving him a choice, Ruki realised, for when Reita made up his mind he had made up his mind. Though it angered him that his friend wouldn’t listen, the familiar tinge of comfort needled its way into his heart, making him sigh in frustration. "Oh, fine", he mumbled, frowning at himself in the mirror. Fine, get what you want, get Reita’s company and watch him squirm when he realises he doesn’t want to be around you. Ruki shook his head to silence the voices. "I’ll probably take a while though", he called out hesitantly. The avoidant side of him almost hoped that Reita would decide that he didn’t feel like waiting, yet a stronger burning part of him was chanting quietly; don’t go, please don’t go, don’t leave me alone here, I need you.
"You won’t get rid of me that easily", came the soft reply. "Jump in the shower. There’ll be a towel and a change of clothes right outside the door when you’re ready, okay?"
-
It came along with loneliness.
That strange, hollow feeling that drained him of self-worth. The paranoia that told him that everything that anyone else did was fake, that told him that what had just happened, the support which Reita had shown, was not genuine and that he was a fool to have believed it to be. Fool to think that he really cared. Ruki, resolutely turned away from the mirror, slowly started stripping out of his clothes, all done carefully, methodically, so that he wouldn’t risk upsetting himself. Gaze darting towards the light switch, he considered for a moment to reach out so he that he could undress in the dark, but decided against it. Reita would notice. And that would lead to questions, and oh, he just couldn’t take any more questions. He’d just close his eyes, he’d just be careful, and he’d use shower mittens so he’d not touch his skin directly while in the shower. Taking a deep breath, Ruki nodded to himself, trying to reassure himself that he’d be fine as he turned around, casting a glance in the mirror; enough to see his ashen face, but not enough to analyse his body to shreds and pieces.
Not that he didn’t do that on a daily basis, already. Ruki gingerly stepped behind the shower curtains, trying not to care, trying not to… think of how uncovered his body was, trying not to think of how disgusting his body made him feel. But one glance down was all it took to shatter this illusion of indifference. While hot water poured over him in a heavy drizzling rain, Ruki put his feet together and let his eyes wander down over himself, despite knowing how it would make him feel. Thighs. Fat. Stomach. Fat. Arms. Fat. Split second later and he had to tear his eyes away from the nauseating sight. Hair and face first, he quickly decided. Body later. Reaching out for the shampoo, he tried not to think too much, tried not to succumb into the awaiting wave of self-hatred, but… it was, in the end, inevitable.
-
It is quiet footsteps that makes me look behind my shoulder.
There, by the door, stands Ruki, hesitating as if he’s wondering whether he’s allowed into the room, into his very own kitchen. I want to tell him: It’s alright. Don’t be scared, come closer. But something tells me not to; and perhaps it’s his tired, hunched stance, his nervous shuffling as he finally makes his way into the room… Or perhaps it’s simply that I don’t really know the meaning of my own words, don’t know if I can trust the innocence in them. He is mumbling a barely audible "hullo" as he walks up to stand beside me by the kitchen counter, the evening glow from the window flowing over his features in a way which makes my heart skip telltale beats. For the briefest of moments, his gaze darts up to meet mine; the eyes I come to stare into are tired, defensive yet - vulnerable.
"Feeling any better?" I question quietly, observing as he quickly averts his eyes, his cheeks turning rosy-red. Clad in the black, oversize sweatshirt and pair of comfy pants that I picked out from his wardrobe, there’s something stubbornly childish over his posture as he tucks his hands into the sleeves, his jaws clenched tight. So, not feeling much better, then. For a moment I want to hold him, but something is keeping me away. As I give him his ready cup of steaming hot tea, I realise with a pang of guilt that I no longer know him the way I used to. And I wonder, am I the one who is blind, or is he the one in hiding?
-
Tick.
Tick, tick, tick.
Ruki pulled the blanket over his head. He was trying to decide whether or not he would step onto the scale next morning. Would he take the blow and work from there, or restrict heavily for a few days before standing ready to face his doom? He didn’t know. He knew nothing. Except that no matter what he ended up doing, it would be agonizing. Agonizing to know and agonizing not to know. Always, always, always so fucking wrong. Because there was always something wrong, about him. Could he change it? Could he become, somehow be - enough? Pulling his knees up to his chin, Ruki listened to the screaming voice inside of him. It made him want to scream, too. Made him want to open his mouth and scream his throat sore - but he didn’t. Not a word, not a sound passed his lips.
He was wishing someone could hold him. He was wishing Reita was there, still, telling him things would be alright. Part of him knew that, if Reita would have been there he would wish he could go away, leave him alone, not to touch him, but… Reita. Clenching his eyes tightly shut, he curled up more, trying to make himself as small as possible. Reita. Go away. Go away, go away, go away. He was so beautiful. Ruki opened his eyes, staring vacantly at darkness. Beautiful. Reita was perfect and Ruki wanted to be perfect for him. Wanted to be good enough for Reita to hold him like a lover, love him like a lover. If he was lying on his side, and put his hand on his ribcage, he could almost feel the row of miniature hills that were ribs. Ruki liked that. Ruki wanted more than that. Because he knew that was only gravitation - knew that, had he been standing up straight, looking into a mirror, there’d not be the slightest of shadow saying he was anything close to thin enough. But he’d change that. Somehow, he’d change that.
One day, he’d be perfect.
To be continued. ♡
-
The following message is for my psychologist only:
Hi Kerstin. What I said at the appointment was really just a nice way of saying don't read this.
Please. If you ask I will explain. Thank you.
-
*sink through earth*
Author: ccgensou
Genre: Angst
Rating: R
Warning: Eating Disorders, Self-Injury, Gore, Language, Violence.
Band: The GazettE
Pairing: Reita/Ruki
Summary: We're all blind.
Comments: This chapter came out weird, and, the only thing to blame is that I was in a bad mood and ended up writing... that scene in the middle, you'll know what I mean. I don't know. *sigh* Okay. *pulls shoebox over head*
Previous:
Prologue.
Chapter 1
~
did you -
block the handle
blow out the candle
did you -
let out a yelp
scream out for help
did you -
try to hide
run away from my side
or was it me
did I -
stand in your way,
or did I -
scare you away?
Chapter 2 .
The glass is tipping, the water is rippling, the glass is shattering, the shards are clattering.
My hand tightens around the edge of the kitchen counter, resisting the urge to slam my fist against something, hard. Damn it all. The frustration I am feeling is breaking into the routines of my life. With a shaky sigh I drop down to a crouch, eyes roaming over the mess of water and shards of glass. This is your fault, Ruki… No. I close my eyes, concentrating only on breathing steadily, calmly. It’s not his fault, never his fault, I should never, ever, blame him again. But when I open my eyes, I am defeated. There is one reason that I am so distracted, one reason that my mind is spinning, one reason alone that I can’t focus on anything I should be doing. And that reason, is Ruki.
I haven’t seen him in three days, and somehow, that worries me more than I can understand. Today at practise, Kai said: "Let’s take a break. This is going nowhere. When things are alright again, please let us know." And though there should be no way for him to know, he added to my responsibility to help Ruki, help him not only for the sake of him and I, but for the band. For everything. This is why I feel so frustrated. Why I feel so at loss, grasping and feeling my way through a labyrinth with a blindfold over my eyes. Because I do not understand. I do not know what is wrong, do not know how to help him, how to make things alright again. I just don’t.
-
Ruki knew exactly what was wrong.
And he knew why it was wrong, how it was wrong, and yes, he knew very well who was the one at fault. That was him, and his freakish inability to ever, ever, ever be good enough. Despite how the world was swaying around him, despite how his chest was searing with pain, Ruki took to the stairs instead of the lift to get up to his apartment, hand gripping the staircase handrail, feeling like he would tumble down if he did not hold onto it for his dear life. Just. A. Few. More. Steps. Please. What felt like an eternity later, he stumbled as he came to stand in front of his apartment door. His throat was burning, raspy hot and itchy with yearning; for food, water, pills to faint or drinks to forget, he didn’t really, honestly care. Except he did. He cared too much and that was the core of the stupid problem, wasn’t it? Wasn’t that just wonderful. Ruki’s door slammed shut behind him. Home.
The silence he had anticipated was not there. There was a loud riiiiiing screaming in his ears, continuously just riiiiiing, riiiiiing, riiiiiing. Ruki just couldn’t take it. Tumbling towards the living room, he let his exhausted body fall down onto the wooden floor in front of the phone. Pulling the plug. Silencing the devil’s sound, but it was… too late. Eyes watering, he turned over to lie on his side, curling up into a small ball as he gasped, sobbed, throat burning as air wheezed through like cold fire. He just couldn’t take it anymore. Slipping his hands under his shirt, fingernails were digging into fleshy hideous fat as he embraced himself - a hollow echo of a real hug, a painful mocking of Reita holding him. This was what the bassist had held. This fat body of failure. This person he was, unworthy of his kindness.
Many would say Ruki was insane. Yet Ruki, he knew he was right.
-
The car is speeding down the streets.
It is a wonder, every time its driver manages to get it to a screeching halt at red lights. The car is mine and… the driver happens to be me, trying my best to navigate through the streets to get to Ruki. It’s the fifth day of nothing. The fifth day of silence from the petite vocalist. I’m getting sick with worry, tired from lack of sleep, frustrated at myself for being so unsure of what to do. Under any normal circumstances I would have been there in the blink of an eye, ready to find out what’s going on, ready to help - but I’ve had to realise, had to admit to myself, that things are no longer the same.
He‘s the one my heart is racing for. And as stupid as it may seem, these feelings keep me away from him, away from his presence, because I can no longer be sure of my own actions, no longer be sure of what I’d do, what would happen, being around him when he’s constantly put in vulnerable situations. I hate myself for it, but I have stolen more than one kiss, more than one forbidden touch from him when he’s been unconscious. He would hate me, too, if he knew. He would push me away, if he knew. And although those things are exactly what I do to myself, it would shatter my heart in so many different ways if he were the one to take the distance, the one to hate me. I can handle my own hate, but Ruki’s? No. Just… no, never.
As I turn the last corner and his apartment building comes into view before me, the first rush of cold feet hits me. I consider making a u-turn, right there, in the middle of the street, and speed away, so far away, but my fists clench the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white and I do not turn. Instead I bring my car to a stop in the first empty slot I can find, shutting down the engine. In the silence that follows, I listen to my pounding heart, and wait, quietly, as the seconds catch up with me. Part of me doesn’t want to leave the car, yet, another part of me is asking why I haven’t moved an inch, why I’m just sitting here, staring out at the building towering before me. What, exactly, am I scared of?
It is a few minutes later that my car is locked and left behind me as I head towards what I know by heart is the door to Ruki’s apartment building. There is anticipation - but also dread. I’m wondering, as I hit the button to take the lift to the fourth floor, if this is how things will be, from now on. I’m wondering, as I step out of the lift, if I could handle it if this were the case. I’m wondering, as I knock on his door, if… loving him will be enough. Because I just don’t know what else I can give him, and that confuses me. But despite this confusion, there are still patterns, things I can recognise in him and situations I know how to handle. That is why I take up my copy of his key, much like he did when I locked myself in my apartment, and insert it into the keyhole after minutes of waiting in quiet nothing.
"Ruki?" His apartment is quiet. "Ruki, are you home?" Except I’m wrong; there’s a soft drizzling sound of water, somewhere, but not loud enough to imply that he’s in the shower. A tap running, then. Where is he? "Ruki?" When there is no reply after the third time of calling his name, I take a moment to take my shoes off, my movements carefully measured to give him enough time to accept that I am here - accept, but not hide. The sound of the water dies out to be replaced with complete silence; but before that, there’s the gentle squeak of metal telling me where he is. Bathroom. Though there’s hesitation in my heart, I make my way towards where I know the said room is. The apartment is overly tidy around me, but when my eyes wander into the living room as I pass it, I take sight of an uncharacteristically messy living room table. My heart reaches out for him as I recognise empty pints of ice cream, a half-eaten cake, candy wrappers and open boxes of cookies. Ruki. He’s been comfort eating. A feeling of sadness lodges into my mind as I avert my eyes and quickly close behind me the remaining steps to the bathroom door.
Light is flooding out of the thin crack between the door and the doorframe, shifting smoothly as someone moves on the other side, coming to rest at such a place that suggests he’s sitting on the floor. Oh, Ruki. With a soft sigh leaving my lips, I sit down on the floor, back against the wall beside it. There’s no need to announce my presence, no need to… use any words to try to get him to open up. Doors and doors, everywhere I look there are doors I cannot get past; locked ones, guarded ones, ones defended by pride and those defended by love. You frustrate me so much, do you know that, Ruki? Years of friendship, and this is the reward? The moment this thought crosses my mind, I chastise myself, but I just can’t help to wonder where this is going.
"Ruki…" The name is merely a whisper past my lips, but the shadow trembles on the other side of the door. With a pained smile, I let one of my hands rest against the wood of the door. "Say something", I plead softly, wishing for reassurance, or perhaps just, simply, to hear his voice. In the prolonged silence my smile threatens to fail, but I keep it up faithfully, refusing to falter. "Just anything", I whisper, confident that he will hear me through the prickling silence. My heart is beating in my chest and I bite my lower lip, wondering briefly if I should or shouldn‘t say it, but the words escapes me still, "Let me hear your voice, Ruki… That’s all I’m asking for, I promise. Nothing more." It’s difficult to keep the tremble from my voice, but somehow I manage. I mouth out a quiet please, closing my eyes, counting my heartbeats as silence continues to dominate. Ruki.
"Rei…?"
My eyes fly open at his hesitant, quiet voice - and upon hearing him, a gush of relief courses through my whole being. It’s peculiar, sometimes, how little things can become so important, but in situations like these, everything he does - every word he speaks, comes to mean the world to me. "I’m here", I say, even though he already knows it, even though in any normal circumstance he would’ve laughed at me for being so cheesy, so silly. Lowering my eyes to the floor, I try to think of something else to say, something else to do, but I’m only a man. Only a man, and he’s only - such a large part of my life that in my fear of losing him, I’m afraid of doing things; too afraid to take risks. "I’m not leaving", I continue, and at first I am hesitant, somewhat uncertain, but in the split second that follows I realise I have no option than to follow it through. "I’m going to sit here, and wait until you decide it’s time to get your cute little ass out of there." I’m hiding my emotions in a joking tone. But it’s not only for me, it’s for him, as well, that I try to lighten the mood, even if I know painfully well how futile the attempt is.
The light under the door shifts slightly. "You’re so weird, Rei", comes the quiet response. So weak, so fragile that my concern only rises higher with every passing second, even if the corresponding worry is somehow eased as I notice that he must’ve moved closer to the door.
"I’m not", I argue, daring myself to taking a risk by playing along. "Anyone’d do the same for a cute puppy such as you." Biting my lip, I immediately sense that I said something wrong. It’s so difficult, Ruki, it’s so difficult knowing what is right and what is wrong around you. Help me. Teach me how to help you. There’s a pang of loneliness in my heart, because I know that he won’t. Half-cuddled against the wall, I watch my hand, still lying against the wood of the door. I make a split-second decision. "Let me touch your hand."
Silence. And then, "What?"
"Put your hand on the door", I instruct with a soft voice, and for the sake of my pride I am happy that he cannot see the rosy colour on my cheeks. "If you sit down, it’s shoulder height, a palm’s width away from the doorframe" I add, after a quick check where, exactly, my hand is held. I find myself holding my breath, waiting for him to say something, telling me if he will do as I say, or not.
But, "Why?" is all he asks.
I don’t know why. "Just… Please." Perhaps I want to be near you but your doors are blocking me. I count heartbeats. One, two, three… seven, eight… twelve, thirteen, fourteen -
"Here?" he asks quietly, after moments of silence, as if he thinks I could see through the wood, or feel the warmth of his hand. With a faint smile playing on my lips, I nod, breathing out a small, confirming yes, just barely loud enough for him to hear it. Because what does it matter, really, if a few inches are wrong. What does it matter, really, if wood separates us. The knowledge alone that his hand is pressed against mine, willingly, without complaint, through the silliness the gesture really holds, is enough to make my heart soften. "Rei?" he whispers.
"Yeah?"
"Tell me a story."
-
His voice was soothing.
It wasn’t so much that he wanted to hear a story as it was that he just wanted to hear his voice, speaking only to him, keeping him company. Reita told him a story about a little boy, and though it was clear to Ruki that he was making it up as he went on, he found himself listening as intently as if it were the masterpiece of the century. He rested his forehead against the door, a dull ache pounding through it. Reita kept a very gentle tone, Ruki noticed as he closed his eyes. A smile flickered briefly over his lips as he tried to imagine what it would be like if the bassist would be sitting on his bed telling him a bedtime story, watching him falling asleep. Oh, how safe he would feel. Taking a deep breath, he attempted to shift closer to the door, closer to the voice, closer, closer to Reita without being in his arms.
Time passed like this, with the bassist telling a simple story, and Ruki listening faithfully, all the while with their hands joined through thought when not by touch. In these moments, he could almost pretend that life was okay, that everything would be perfectly okay. He could pretend, if only for a while, that he could be enough for the bassist. Pretend that his skin wasn’t prickling from dried-on sweat, pretend that his throat and nose didn’t burn because of earlier panic making him hurry in the midst. He could, almost, forget the shame that nestled inside him, forget that Reita had been so close to walking in on one of the most humiliating aspects of his life. But only almost.
"… the end."
Ruki smiled faintly and opened his eyes, feeling strangely calm after Reita had completed his request for a story. He knew the feeling would only be momentary, but it was moments like these that reminded him why he was still trying, still fighting. He wanted to tell Reita the extent of his gratitude; he wanted to make him understand just how much his presence meant to him, but in the end, words failed him. "Thank you", was the only thing he managed to get out, taking a deep breath.
There was a pause, almost hesitant, before Reita’s voice reached him again, saying: "Happy to be at your service." And no matter how much Ruki searched the words, he couldn’t find the sarcasm he thought must be there. He couldn’t find annoyance, he couldn’t find anything that would imply that the beautiful man on the other side of the door minded, in any way, to do this for him. Ruki lowered his eyes to the floor as a blush warmed his cheeks. Silly Reita. But that was when said man came with a suggestion: "Why don’t you open the door", and with that Ruki’s world came crashing down.
"Oh", he breathed out, instinctively shying away from the door he had leaned heavily against only mere seconds ago. "I can’t", he hurriedly said, blushing as he heard how poorly disguised the panic was in his voice.
Pause. And then: "Why can’t you?"
"Because - " Ruki tried to start, but cut himself off before he said something stupid. Clenching his eyes tightly shut, he took a deep breath before trying again. "Because I look a mess, okay?" And I don’t want you seeing me like this, he added to himself, chewing nervously at his lower lip. He made a quick decision and added, "I - I think I’m going to take a shower, so just - go?" Picking himself up from the floor on unsteady feet, Ruki tried to ignore how uncertain his voice sounded, as he came to stand in front of the mirror above the sink. It was true, he looked dirty; unclean and filthy. His hair was hanging heavy around a pale pink-flushed face, while tired, unfocused eyes stared from underneath runaway strands. "Please", he added quietly, almost to himself , but he knew the other man must’ve heard him. How could he not have, in this stretching silence?
"I’m not leaving, Ruki", Reita finally replied, calmly, patiently. "I told you that." And though he only meant well, though he only cared, those words sent a flare of impatient frustration through Ruki’s mind. "If you want, I can go fetch you a fresh towel and a change of clothes and put them outside the door for you?" Silence. "And then I can wait in the kitchen and have some tea ready for you when you’re done. Okay?"
He wasn’t giving him a choice, Ruki realised, for when Reita made up his mind he had made up his mind. Though it angered him that his friend wouldn’t listen, the familiar tinge of comfort needled its way into his heart, making him sigh in frustration. "Oh, fine", he mumbled, frowning at himself in the mirror. Fine, get what you want, get Reita’s company and watch him squirm when he realises he doesn’t want to be around you. Ruki shook his head to silence the voices. "I’ll probably take a while though", he called out hesitantly. The avoidant side of him almost hoped that Reita would decide that he didn’t feel like waiting, yet a stronger burning part of him was chanting quietly; don’t go, please don’t go, don’t leave me alone here, I need you.
"You won’t get rid of me that easily", came the soft reply. "Jump in the shower. There’ll be a towel and a change of clothes right outside the door when you’re ready, okay?"
-
It came along with loneliness.
That strange, hollow feeling that drained him of self-worth. The paranoia that told him that everything that anyone else did was fake, that told him that what had just happened, the support which Reita had shown, was not genuine and that he was a fool to have believed it to be. Fool to think that he really cared. Ruki, resolutely turned away from the mirror, slowly started stripping out of his clothes, all done carefully, methodically, so that he wouldn’t risk upsetting himself. Gaze darting towards the light switch, he considered for a moment to reach out so he that he could undress in the dark, but decided against it. Reita would notice. And that would lead to questions, and oh, he just couldn’t take any more questions. He’d just close his eyes, he’d just be careful, and he’d use shower mittens so he’d not touch his skin directly while in the shower. Taking a deep breath, Ruki nodded to himself, trying to reassure himself that he’d be fine as he turned around, casting a glance in the mirror; enough to see his ashen face, but not enough to analyse his body to shreds and pieces.
Not that he didn’t do that on a daily basis, already. Ruki gingerly stepped behind the shower curtains, trying not to care, trying not to… think of how uncovered his body was, trying not to think of how disgusting his body made him feel. But one glance down was all it took to shatter this illusion of indifference. While hot water poured over him in a heavy drizzling rain, Ruki put his feet together and let his eyes wander down over himself, despite knowing how it would make him feel. Thighs. Fat. Stomach. Fat. Arms. Fat. Split second later and he had to tear his eyes away from the nauseating sight. Hair and face first, he quickly decided. Body later. Reaching out for the shampoo, he tried not to think too much, tried not to succumb into the awaiting wave of self-hatred, but… it was, in the end, inevitable.
-
It is quiet footsteps that makes me look behind my shoulder.
There, by the door, stands Ruki, hesitating as if he’s wondering whether he’s allowed into the room, into his very own kitchen. I want to tell him: It’s alright. Don’t be scared, come closer. But something tells me not to; and perhaps it’s his tired, hunched stance, his nervous shuffling as he finally makes his way into the room… Or perhaps it’s simply that I don’t really know the meaning of my own words, don’t know if I can trust the innocence in them. He is mumbling a barely audible "hullo" as he walks up to stand beside me by the kitchen counter, the evening glow from the window flowing over his features in a way which makes my heart skip telltale beats. For the briefest of moments, his gaze darts up to meet mine; the eyes I come to stare into are tired, defensive yet - vulnerable.
"Feeling any better?" I question quietly, observing as he quickly averts his eyes, his cheeks turning rosy-red. Clad in the black, oversize sweatshirt and pair of comfy pants that I picked out from his wardrobe, there’s something stubbornly childish over his posture as he tucks his hands into the sleeves, his jaws clenched tight. So, not feeling much better, then. For a moment I want to hold him, but something is keeping me away. As I give him his ready cup of steaming hot tea, I realise with a pang of guilt that I no longer know him the way I used to. And I wonder, am I the one who is blind, or is he the one in hiding?
-
Tick.
Tick, tick, tick.
Ruki pulled the blanket over his head. He was trying to decide whether or not he would step onto the scale next morning. Would he take the blow and work from there, or restrict heavily for a few days before standing ready to face his doom? He didn’t know. He knew nothing. Except that no matter what he ended up doing, it would be agonizing. Agonizing to know and agonizing not to know. Always, always, always so fucking wrong. Because there was always something wrong, about him. Could he change it? Could he become, somehow be - enough? Pulling his knees up to his chin, Ruki listened to the screaming voice inside of him. It made him want to scream, too. Made him want to open his mouth and scream his throat sore - but he didn’t. Not a word, not a sound passed his lips.
He was wishing someone could hold him. He was wishing Reita was there, still, telling him things would be alright. Part of him knew that, if Reita would have been there he would wish he could go away, leave him alone, not to touch him, but… Reita. Clenching his eyes tightly shut, he curled up more, trying to make himself as small as possible. Reita. Go away. Go away, go away, go away. He was so beautiful. Ruki opened his eyes, staring vacantly at darkness. Beautiful. Reita was perfect and Ruki wanted to be perfect for him. Wanted to be good enough for Reita to hold him like a lover, love him like a lover. If he was lying on his side, and put his hand on his ribcage, he could almost feel the row of miniature hills that were ribs. Ruki liked that. Ruki wanted more than that. Because he knew that was only gravitation - knew that, had he been standing up straight, looking into a mirror, there’d not be the slightest of shadow saying he was anything close to thin enough. But he’d change that. Somehow, he’d change that.
One day, he’d be perfect.
To be continued. ♡
-
The following message is for my psychologist only:
Hi Kerstin. What I said at the appointment was really just a nice way of saying don't read this.
Please. If you ask I will explain. Thank you.
-
*sink through earth*