[Ruki & Reita] Wait for Me. [ 2 / ?? ]
Title: Wait For Me
Genre: Romance ; AU ; Drama
Author: rukixtora
Beta Reader: No one
Chapters: 2 / --
Band: the GazettE
Characters: Ruki & Reita, Uruha ( Ruki / Uruha later in the story )
Rating: PG
Summary: "Even with the hearing aid, the sounds of the world filter into his mind tinny and tight as the wind chime swinging effortlessly in the breeze."
Dedication: Each chapter of this story goes to rhythmslip .
Notes: So, you can clearly see that I'm making this into a chapter story, even though I have several of other stories to complete, like the postcard from heaven sequal. Haha. Enjoy.
Previously: One
Ruki sticks his left arm out the window, pushing his hand through the warm, humid air of the summer afternoon as his car speeds down the street. His hearing aid tuned slightly up, hearing the whispers and cries in the wind passing by him. His hand dives down, then up, and down again like a kite on the beach as he rides along the hills. The wind fights with his shoulder length hair, making him smile at the way it flies around his head.
Even with the hearing aid, the sounds of the world filter into his mind tinny and tight as the wind chime swinging effortlessly in the breeze.
Red light.
Ruki closed his eyes and tries to block out all the sounds around his surroundings, people talking, cars honking; everything was put to a stop while he entered his own world once again. Vivid colours invade his mind as he picture himself sitting on a bench, not on the seat, but on the backrest, his feet splayed out on the bench, elbows resting on his knees, his shoulders hunching forward; his hands clasped in the front.
He’s sitting next to another man, not Reita, but a stranger, a stranger with blonde coloured hair, angelic lips and features and he is smiling at him. Blonde says something. Ruki shakes his head, whispering that he can’t understand him, but instead the stranger smiles again. Caught in his gaze, he nods and stands up.
Green light.
Ruki opened his eyes again and stepped on the gas pedal, hurrying to his destination. Nothing as ever happen like that before, usually he would just picture nature, savouring the scenery, or even just random colours, but a person so clear in his world? That’s just absurd.
--
Reita bit the inside of his cheek as he stared at the paper in front of him, tapping his pen on the edge of his desk. It felt as if every inspiration had just slipped from out of his mind, flying out the window, finding its way to another victims’ mind. Maybe Ruki was right, maybe writing and painting was similar. All he needed to do was visualize colours and maybe that would help, close his eyes like Ruki would do sometimes; get lost in his own world. As easy as that may sound, it can be rather difficult.
“How can Ruki do it so easily?” He whispered to himself. Sighing, he leaned back, staring at the ceiling. This was too hard. Having five bestselling books sold worldwide and writing the sixth one, it was too much and he was getting tired of it.
He leaned forward, pushing the chair back and buried his face in his hands, letting a groan escape loudly from his lips that he’s been holding in ever since he started his career of his. Inhaling oxygen, he turned his attention to the window. It was hard to think of how Ruki could ever do his painting career alright, sitting through meeting for hours, painting on a blank canvas for days, having interviews and premieres for his works and still have time to love him.
It almost seemed as if Ruki was perfect - from his eyes. But, then again, no one is perfect, no matter how well they do things.
--
Absently, Ruki played with his hearing aid, turning the knob up and down constantly as he waited for the meeting to start. Turning the knob up, he could hear everything in the hallway, people talking from the end of the hall and even his own breathing slightly. Turning the knob down, he felt lost, hearing nothing but a softly sizzling sound that they hard plastic device would make when it was on. Sighing, he gave the aid one last turn up before leaning on a nearby wall.
He looked down, admiring his shoes, carefully memorizing each detail that they had to offer. The curves, the texture, everything - he always wanted his painting to be like that, allowing people to admire such details when only they would admire the colours he had to give.
His gaze turning left, he noticed a figure walking towards him. Finally, the meet would start; at least he thought. His lips parted unknowingly as the man got closer. It was him.
The guy from his world.
Same hair, same smile, same features; everything. It was him, no doubt about it.
“Are you Matsumoto, Takanori?” the man asked carefully, looking at an unknown piece of paper briefly before looking at Ruki through his blonde bangs. The shorter man nodded, still in shock. The person smiled widely before bowing respectfully.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Kouyou Takashima,” he shamelessly introduced, holding out his hand, offering Ruki to shake it, and he did. “I guess you didn’t get my message did you?” Kouyou pouted slightly.
Ruki took his cell phone from out of his front pocket and noticed that it was out of battery. He sighed, a shook his head, shoving the electronic back in his pocket and looked up at the other man. “No, sorry. The battery ran out so you must have texted me once it died.” He explained.
How did he get my phone number?
“Ah. I figured,” Kouyou began, nodding slightly, “Well, I basically said that the meeting was cancelled for today and was moved for Friday, that’s all.” He said before leaning forward slightly to read Ruki’s face and chuckled, “And in case you’re wondering, I got your phone number from one of your colleges.” He added.
Ruki sighed and nodded. “Yeah, figured,” he mumbled before pushing himself of the wall, brushing his hair over his ear briefly. “I guess I can go home now?” he asked.
Kouyou tilted his head and biting his lower lip. “Actually,” he whispered, “I was wondering if I could take you out for coffee,” he offered, “It’s not a date or anything, since we’ve just met. It’s just that you’ve come a long way to get here, and just finding out that your meeting was cancelled… Just have a rest.”
“No, really. That’s okay. I probably took most of your time anyway for you to come all the way here to tell me this, so I should just get going,”
“Oh… I see,” Kouyou laughed nervously, “I’m sorry. A famous painter like you wouldn’t probably even have time to have a small break. Sorry that I bothered you.”
“It’s fine, Takashima-san,” Ruki said as he started to walk off, “Thanks for telling me,” he waved briefly.
“Uh, no problem!” Kouyou called as he started to walk after Ruki, “And please, call me Uruha.” He said. Ruki stopped and turned around, giving the other a look. Kouyou stopped suddenly.
“…Uruha?” The painter whispered. Uruha nodded.
“Is… something wrong with that?” the other man asked. Ruki shook his head and frown.
“It just sounds familiar… that’s all,” he whispered, looking away, “You know what; I’ll take you on that offer,”
Uruha smiled and jumped slightly. “Really?”
Ruki nodded and turned on his heel, walking towards down the hall, the tall man following right behind him.
--
30 minutes pasted and nothing new was written on the paper. Doing all that could, digging in his mind for inspiration and even words that could help, it didn’t help. This never happened to him before unless he was worried about something, and there was nothing to worry about. Everything was absolutely fine. His mother was okay, and so was his sister. He knew that Ruki was in a meeting, so nothing could possibly happen to him.
Reita looked at the paper intense fully, hoping that some would appear on the blank object. Nothing. Nothing at all. Sighing, he pushed back his chair and stood up, stretching gently and dropped his pen on the desk aimlessly. Walking to the living room, he threw himself on the couch, groaning in the pillow. At this rate, he wouldn’t make the deadline no matter what he did and he couldn’t possibly quit his job.
Deep down, he was jealous of Ruki. He envied every single inch of his lover. His career, his talents, his life; everything. Though, in some odd way, that made him love the other man even more. But, instead, he chose be a writer, using only your mind, paper and a pen, while Ruki had imagination, talent, several of colours he could choose from and his own world he could escape to whenever he needed to.
10 minutes flew by and nothing happen, Reita drifted to sleep, his breathing slowed. Silence danced around in the room, claiming its victory; its glory.