Unguarded | By : psyca Category: +G to L > Hana-Kimi Views: 1912 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Hana-Kimi, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Hokuto Umeda sat in the hazy bar, strains of melancholy jazz floating out of the invisible sound system. A cigarette streamed smoke lazily from his long fingers resting on the polished black bar. The other hand curled loosely around a mostly empty glass of scotch. His glasses were hooked on the top button of his stylish black collared shirt, despite the resulting blurred vision.
He didn’t need glasses to see who wasn’t there.
The biting, bitter edges of his internal frustrations were blunted by the fourth glass of alcohol. Instead, self-ire rose to infuse him with ennui.
Fucking Kijima.
He rarely let it get to him like this. It wasn’t like being ignored was anything new.
He absently brought the cigarette to his lips, frowning a little at its diminutive length. One final drag, and he ground it out.
Sighing, Umeda watched the ice weep into the amber liquid in his glass, diluting the strong drink by degrees. The music wailing softly around him only deepened his funk.
Why did he have to care that much? Why did being alone tonight, again, bother him so? He should be used to his solitary existence, punctuated by occasional lovers that held back the longing for a little while.
Umeda pushed away the drink and turned from the bar sullenly. This wasn’t like him. He knew from years of experience that he was lucky to get anything from Kijima. His expectations were set appropriately low.
But today, it ached. It was as if the subtle rejection, the unreturned phone calls, the constant desire of wanting to hold on and being just out of reach finally overflowed and buried him.
Dammit. The scotch was supposed to let him forget.
Umeda stared down unseeing, not acknowledging the din around him. He struggled to keep his composure, but couldn’t keep the ache from showing on his smooth features.
A pair of shoes entered his vision, capped by subtly gleaming leather pant cuffs. He couldn’t bring himself to even contemplate raising his head to admire its occupant.
He didn’t even flinch when a strong hand gently grasped his chin, lifting his blurred vision to meet dark eyes framed by round sunglasses. His breath hitched just slightly as his fuzzed brain caught up with his vision.
How cruel that he would find him here, to give him another buoy of false hope.
It took several heartbeats before Umeda could bring himself to pull his indifference into place.
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