On Letting GoChapter(s):
Real people, real circumstances, fake stories.Summary:
Actions speak louder than words, but sometimes they don't.Comment:
. I hope you don't mind if I use this for the gazeroundrobin
challenge too, ahah. ♥
Rain in May was unusual.
Small amounts of it softly pelted against the glass window, the drops sliding down, drawing intricate patterns that retained and got forgotten in Ruki’s head at the same time. Within a blink the images were gone, and all his eyes could focus on was the emptiness of the parking lot the room was facing. How there were no clouds in sight, how the sky was painted with nothing but a dull gray color, and the uncertainty of more rain or none at all. A ghost of a smile was on his lips as he mused how perfect this was despite the imperfections his intelligent mind could nitpick. He loved those that are beautiful and unusual.
Uruha stood there, leaning against the door frame as he quietly watched Ruki from a distance. His arms were folded across his chest though no scowl pulled his face down, only a look of understanding that was getting too tiring to keep up. No trace of lip gloss was on his mouth but his eyes were rimmed with dark eyeliner despite the pointlessness of wearing it. There was no need to hide behind the make-up and the more-than-decent clothing that he wore, but today there was the urge to look presentable. One of the rare times when he felt that being by his normal self felt inadequate.
It was beauty in an unusual manner, in Ruki’s eyes, but Uruha would never know that, not through words anyway.
Ruki tore his gaze away from the window for a second, fingers blindly searching for the pen he discarded on the couch a while ago. Absentmindedly he brought the pen to his lips as he flipped through the notebook in front of him, its pages full of scribbles that only he could figure out. Words of love, sketches of life, and all his soul poured out in the used thin leaves.
“I wanted to talk.”
Uruha finally broke the silence that filled the room, but his sentiment was replied only with a fleeting gaze. What was there to talk about? Whatever Ruki had to say, he expressed in so many ways. His songs, his gestures – there was no use for spoken words. He went back to his notebook and opened it on a clean page, starting to let the pictures and emotions flow from his pen to the paper.
“There’s nothing to talk about.” That was the silent answer.
At that very moment the rain stopped, snatching Ruki’s attention back to the outside of the window. He scrunched his brows but immediately went back to writing, seeming to ignore the other’s presence but in reality, he was merely listening. Ruki knew Uruha still had something to say. He always had something to say.
Instead, Ruki’s ears were met with the graceless, irate sound of boots against the floor. Before he knew it Uruha was gone, not even his shadow stayed long enough for Ruki to catch. Odd – it was odd for Ruki but very much human, if one thought about it. But rather than staying glued to his seat playing with words and melodies, he decided to run after Uruha; an action he couldn’t justify the meaning but knew he had to do anyway. Once again the pen was discarded on the couch, and the halls echoed with Ruki’s hurried footsteps.
It was as if Ruki’s voice wasn’t heard until they arrived at the empty parking lot, the one seen from the studio window. Uruha stopped when he was in front of his motorbike, and only looked behind when he already had his helmet under his arms.
“I said wait,” Ruki repeated, though deciding to keep his distance from the other man. Now it was Uruha’s turn to give him a soundless reply, simply staring at the other though his hand clutched on his helmet tight and the other curled into a fist.
“Uruha what is your problem?” Ruki finally asked, getting more irritated each second that he felt Uruha’s watch burn into his skin. He always understood what those looks meant – hell he understood what anybody’s eyes gave away – but there was so much hurt, so much desperation, so much
in Uruha’s eyes that he couldn’t read them anymore.
They stood there in a middle of the lot for a few good minutes without any word, and the silence that drowned Ruki’s ear forced him to open his mouth to speak again.
“That’s the problem,” Uruha spat out before Ruki could say anything, “You’re always so silent. You’re always there, listening, sympathizing, trying to be sensitive about what other people are feeling. You don’t even do anything about it but put it on your damn lyrics or keep your thoughts to yourself. I don’t even know what you’re thinking anymore. You speak so little, you react so little… it’s as if you expect me to understand whatever silent shit you’re pulling on me!
“I can’t understand what you’re trying to tell me, not when you don’t say or do anything anymore. And I need
to know, I need
to understand. I know you’re a private person, but if we want to make this work out then you have to speak to me, Ruki, you have to show me. You have to let go of whatever you’re keeping inside. I’m not a fucking mind reader.”
Uruha put his helmet on and got on his bike, not even looking back to see Ruki’s face. “I think this conversation is over. Come to me only if you have something to say.”
A mild breeze blew as Uruha started his engine and drove away, wanting to escape to some place – to his home, to a bar, who knows? – just somewhere he wouldn’t have to think about this encounter for a while. The breeze grew stronger as Ruki was kept frozen on his feet, too confused, too stunned to respond to anything. His hands drifted up to his face, covering the mouth that he should’ve made use of.
And when the sky cried again, Ruki let himself go too.