Six Months Later - Part 10 (more like 10a)
Previous Parts: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine.
The light pink walls of the corridor echo the strides of the tall man, slow and unusually hesitant. One palm wipes away the sweat from his temples, the other curled in a fist hides in his pocket. His feet lead him to the elevator but his mind is stuck on what he left behind: the soft lips, the warm breath, the sweet voice inviting him to take over the small body he worships so dearly... As he steps into the elevator, he turns around to face the door he closed with his own hands. What if he chooses to leave me? The thought suffocates him. For the first time in a long time, his eyes burn with a tide of painful tears. The ride downwards is nauseating, the small chamber feels like a cage that threatens his very existence. What if this was our last kiss? His fist hits the STOP button, almost smashing it under the vehemence of his impulse. Shit. The first tear trickles down the shapely cheek, his teeth dig bleeding streaks across his lips. I’m completely beaten, Akihito… The man takes a deep breath, then another, striving for self-control. He will come back to me. He will choose me. He IS mine, dammit! Bitter doubts bring memories of the countless times he took Akihito by force, the times he refused to acknowledge him, to let him see his true feelings. He should still be in the room... Fingers on the panel, mind on the razor.
He wipes away the tears with a deep sigh as he releases the elevator from its halt. Hurry up and decide, Akihito. You’re killing me. As the elevator doors open the way to the underground garage, Asami puts on his iron face as best as he can, relieved that the darkness of the place won't allow the cracks to show.
The light pink walls of the corridor echo the strides of the tall man, slow and unusually hesitant. One palm wipes away the sweat from his temples, the other curled in a fist hides in his pocket. His feet lead him to the elevator but his mind is stuck on what he left behind: the soft lips, the warm breath, the sweet voice inviting him to take over the small body he worships so dearly... As he steps into the elevator, he turns around to face the door he closed with his own hands. What if he chooses to leave me? The thought suffocates him. For the first time in a long time, his eyes burn with a tide of painful tears. The ride downwards is nauseating, the small chamber feels like a cage that threatens his very existence. What if this was our last kiss? His fist hits the STOP button, almost smashing it under the vehemence of his impulse. Shit. The first tear trickles down the shapely cheek, his teeth dig bleeding streaks across his lips. I’m completely beaten, Akihito… The man takes a deep breath, then another, striving for self-control. He will come back to me. He will choose me. He IS mine, dammit! Bitter doubts bring memories of the countless times he took Akihito by force, the times he refused to acknowledge him, to let him see his true feelings. He should still be in the room... Fingers on the panel, mind on the razor.
He wipes away the tears with a deep sigh as he releases the elevator from its halt. Hurry up and decide, Akihito. You’re killing me. As the elevator doors open the way to the underground garage, Asami puts on his iron face as best as he can, relieved that the darkness of the place won't allow the cracks to show.