After Six Months - Part 2
Thank you all so much for your encouraging comments!!! I hope you enjoy Part 2 just as much; please let me know what you think. It's a shorter piece (it's been a busy day) but still angsty. Apologies in advance for any grammar or spelling mistakes (English is not my native tongue).
Disclaimer: I don't own Viewfinder.
His gaze wanders on the marble floor, tracing lazily the glittering veins of the stone. Eventually his eyes meet the pale yellow wall, then the large window overlooking Osaka Bay. Through the steamy glass, the sky and the ocean have become one. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and sinks deeper in the hot tub, pressing his cheek against the chest of the man that means everything to him. His body is heavy, his mind is blank. All that exists are those gentle arms around him, the soft breath through his hair, and the steady heartbeat against his ear, strong and determined, like the man himself. Akihito lifts his head to look at the relaxed face of his lover. A pair of golden eyes looks back at him tame, calm, almost surrendered. As Akihito lifts one hand to caress the older man’s cheek, those perfect lips that have hurt him time and again with their cruel smirk, curve into a gentle smile. You are so beautiful, Asami. Akihito sighs at the thought. As he lowers his gaze again, he pours his heart out in a soft whisper “I love you.” The older man stays still and silent. But the frantic song of his heart against Akihito’s ear tells the young man all he needs to know.
The alarm clock kills the sweet dream in an instant. As he lifts his arm to turn the switch off, Akihito tries to fight off the bitter emptiness in his heart. Suddenly he gasps, sits up, and looks around. I could swear I smell his cigarettes. Shit. I’m going crazy. He gets off the bed and heads for his morning shower. You are a fool, Akihito. A fool. On his way to the bathroom he bumps into a chair. Ouch! When did I put this here? Damn.
The young photographer makes his way through a sea of cubicles towards the editor’s office. The pictures from yesterday’s reception came off very nicely and, judging by the laudatory email he got from his boss earlier, some of them will probably make it to the front page. Akihito smiles to himself as he knocks on the door. The two men on the other side seem to be in the middle of a heated discussion. As the blond steps in the spacious room, the middle-aged man seated behind the desk grins and gestures hastily. “Ah, there you are! Come in, Takaba-san! You’ve got to see this!” Akihito nods to the editor, then to the young man standing in front of the desk. “Good morning, boss. Kawamura-san.” “Hello, Takaba-san,” responds the tall man with a smile. Kawamura Reiji is the paper’s sports photographer, but he also covers social events whenever there’s more going on than Akihito can cover by himself. That’s right. He was covering the opening of a new club last night. As he approaches the desk, he grows more and more curious about the photos on the desk. “Did you have a good time yesterday, Kawamura-san?” he asks his colleague. The tall man sounds excited: “It was interesting, Takaba-san. More so than I ever expected.” The editor takes a photo out of the pile and hands it over to the blond. “Look who’s back in town.”
Akihito’s eyes fall on the glossy paper and freeze. A pair of amber gems that blazes with confidence. Oh Gods. Sensuous lips tightly holding a cigarette. Asami. Perfectly combed black hair. My love. Wide shoulders.
Oh Gods. No. One arm wrapped around the waist of the young man next to him.
Akihito gasps for air in vain as the ruthless pain pierces through his chest.
Disclaimer: I don't own Viewfinder.
His gaze wanders on the marble floor, tracing lazily the glittering veins of the stone. Eventually his eyes meet the pale yellow wall, then the large window overlooking Osaka Bay. Through the steamy glass, the sky and the ocean have become one. He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and sinks deeper in the hot tub, pressing his cheek against the chest of the man that means everything to him. His body is heavy, his mind is blank. All that exists are those gentle arms around him, the soft breath through his hair, and the steady heartbeat against his ear, strong and determined, like the man himself. Akihito lifts his head to look at the relaxed face of his lover. A pair of golden eyes looks back at him tame, calm, almost surrendered. As Akihito lifts one hand to caress the older man’s cheek, those perfect lips that have hurt him time and again with their cruel smirk, curve into a gentle smile. You are so beautiful, Asami. Akihito sighs at the thought. As he lowers his gaze again, he pours his heart out in a soft whisper “I love you.” The older man stays still and silent. But the frantic song of his heart against Akihito’s ear tells the young man all he needs to know.
The alarm clock kills the sweet dream in an instant. As he lifts his arm to turn the switch off, Akihito tries to fight off the bitter emptiness in his heart. Suddenly he gasps, sits up, and looks around. I could swear I smell his cigarettes. Shit. I’m going crazy. He gets off the bed and heads for his morning shower. You are a fool, Akihito. A fool. On his way to the bathroom he bumps into a chair. Ouch! When did I put this here? Damn.
The young photographer makes his way through a sea of cubicles towards the editor’s office. The pictures from yesterday’s reception came off very nicely and, judging by the laudatory email he got from his boss earlier, some of them will probably make it to the front page. Akihito smiles to himself as he knocks on the door. The two men on the other side seem to be in the middle of a heated discussion. As the blond steps in the spacious room, the middle-aged man seated behind the desk grins and gestures hastily. “Ah, there you are! Come in, Takaba-san! You’ve got to see this!” Akihito nods to the editor, then to the young man standing in front of the desk. “Good morning, boss. Kawamura-san.” “Hello, Takaba-san,” responds the tall man with a smile. Kawamura Reiji is the paper’s sports photographer, but he also covers social events whenever there’s more going on than Akihito can cover by himself. That’s right. He was covering the opening of a new club last night. As he approaches the desk, he grows more and more curious about the photos on the desk. “Did you have a good time yesterday, Kawamura-san?” he asks his colleague. The tall man sounds excited: “It was interesting, Takaba-san. More so than I ever expected.” The editor takes a photo out of the pile and hands it over to the blond. “Look who’s back in town.”
Akihito’s eyes fall on the glossy paper and freeze. A pair of amber gems that blazes with confidence. Oh Gods. Sensuous lips tightly holding a cigarette. Asami. Perfectly combed black hair. My love. Wide shoulders.
Oh Gods. No. One arm wrapped around the waist of the young man next to him.
Akihito gasps for air in vain as the ruthless pain pierces through his chest.