quattro

For what felt like an eternity, Bokuto typed the words on Akaashi's phone. His hand wobbled so much that it was impossible to decipher which letters he was hitting. Akaashi was close to holding his breath before Bokuto had finally drew his hand back. He let it fall over his stomach, and there it rested. His golden eyes searched the room for Akaashi. When he'd finally found him, those shining eyes of his lit up just a little more than usual. And with that glint came his smile. It was small and measly, but there.

Akaashi made sure to take a mental picture of this before he looked down and closed his eyes. He gripped his phone in his hand and took in a deep breath, filling his lungs with all the air that he could before he exhaled through his nostrils. He turned his phone so that it was facing him, opened his eyes, and read the three words that would haunt him forever.

... Or so he thought.

Akaashi's eyes widened slightly, and his eyebrows knit together in surprise. What sat upon the screen was not what he thought it would be, but rather... A simple compliment.

"You are beautiful."

Freezing in his seat, Akaashi read the words ten times over before he finally looked up. He could feel his heartbeat thumping hard against his chest, as if it wanted to break free. His eyes locked onto Bokuto's.

"You... Think that I'm beautiful?" He asked this in a tone of disbelief.

Mustering a weak nod, Bokuto's lips curled at the sides just a bit more. With this, he raised a quivering hand and his index finger. He was trying to tell Akaashi something else.

Guessing quickly, Akaashi muttered, "One?"

Bokuto kept his finger up, then moved his hand to point it at himself. He did not give Akaashi time to voice his guess as he then moved his finger to point at his eye, then finally at Akaashi.

Weakly, Akaashi parted his lips. He almost couldn't find his voice, but when he did, he tried his best to keep it from shaking.

"Since... The first day you saw me..."

To this, Bokuto's arm fell and rested lightly on his stomach. He did the only thing that he could and nodded again, then closed his eyes, and slightly turned his head away.

Akaashi watched curiously as Bokuto's lips quivered into a wide grin, and as the light captured his features, Akaashi realized just how embarrassed Bokuto actually was.

His face glowed the quietest shade of red, and he tried to hide it from Akaashi. It seemed that, after finally hearing his pent up thoughts aloud, they had frayed his nerves more than he thought they would.

Seeing this display unfold before him, Akaashi could barely think. His heart beat a mile a minute, he found it difficult to swallow, and one of his legs bounced up and down rapidly. He didn't know how to react, didn't know what to do or say, but as he searched for the right words to speak, or the right thing to do, Akaashi found himself doing something he didn't expect of himself.

A light hearted laugh bubbled out from deep within his chest, and the sound filled the room as soon as it hit the air. He laughed hard, or at least as hard as he could. His voice was gentle, light on Bokuto's ears. It caused him to open his eyes and look in Akaashi's direction, astonished. Those honey-hued eyes took in all that they could of Akaashi's laughing face. The way his lips curled at the corners, the way his eyes squinted just enough so that only a glint of green could be seen. Bokuto captured it all, and in no time, he found himself laughing too.

It was a quiet laugh. It was so weak and feeble, it could barely be heard, but it was there, and Akaashi could hear it, so that was enough for Bokuto. His face still wore the same shade of red, but he no longer minded this. He was happy where he was. He was happy that he'd admitted those words. He was glad that Akaashi found company in him.

Finding a breath between his laughter, Akaashi managed to speak.

"You're... Ridiculous." He said lightheartedly, his fingers trembling around his phone.

Bokuto gave him a look that could only be read as, "I am, aren't I?"

Slowly, Akaashi's laugh eased into a chuckle, and as he sat there in his seat, he looked down at Bokuto with placid eyes. A genuine expression made its home on Akaashi's features, and a hand reached up to push through his raven locks.

"Thank you, Koutarou." He whispered softly, his voice shaking in his throat. He reached a hand out and found Bokuto's.

Bokuto tightened his grasp in that automatic way he always did. He stared up at Akaashi with that smile that never seemed to fade. His eyes read,

"You're welcome, Keiji."

February 2nd.

What time is it?

Akaashi stirred in bed slightly and let out a weak grunt. He didn't bother to check. He didn't care.

The sky was already black. He figured it was already past five in the afternoon. So he didn't care anymore. He didn't care if it was seven at night, or eight at night, or twelve in the morning, or if the world's clock stopped moving altogether.

All he cared about was the fact that Bokuto was still with him, next to him, breathing, alive.

All he cared about was the fact that Bokuto Koutarou was still there.

Akaashi moved his head to the side and touched his forehead to Bokuto's neck.

Bokuto's movements were late to this, but he reacted nonetheless as he turned Akaashi's way to touch his chin to the top of his head. The soft touch of Akaashi's hair against his chin comforted Bokuto, and pulled him into a relaxed state.

Akaashi liked it when this happened. It would cause less spasms to grip Bokuto's body, allowing him to unwind more than he usually could. Akaashi didn't know why he had this effect on him, but he did, and that was all that mattered to him.

The day was exceptionally cold, but Akaashi was glad to know that the hospital's room provided enough heat to keep Bokuto from freezing over. But even so, Bokuto still suffered from trembling spells, and they would come in small, short bursts and last only several seconds before his body became too weak to keep it up.

Akaashi always made sure to hold Bokuto close and squeeze him tight whenever this happened, just to let him know that he was there for him. That he wasn't another one of those illusions his mind would create. Akaashi would also murmur quiet things to him from time to time, to keep up a small, often one sided conversation. He'd usually ask yes or no questions, ones that were easy for Bokuto to answer with a nod or shake of the head. But sometimes, he wouldn't answer certain questions, despite Akaashi asking them twice.

He wouldn't always get answers, Akaashi was aware of this, but he would still ask him things. At other times, he would just tell him things that were on his mind.

It was strange how the less Bokuto asked, the more Akaashi found himself saying.

Relaxing his head against the crook of Bokuto's neck, Akaashi blinked wearily and stared off into the distance. He focused on nothing... Something he remembered Kenma doing. His hand held onto one of Bokuto's very thin arms, and his thumb would occasionally rub up and down to comfort him. They shared the same navy blue knit blanket and huddled up beneath it, keeping each other warm in the best way that they could. As Akaashi lay there, quiet, listening to Bokuto's strained breathing, he opened his mouth to speak.

"Koutarou?"

He spoke just loudly enough for Bokuto to hear him. He felt him move against his head in response, so he continued. He drew in a deep breath and blinked away the stinging in his eyes.

"I want you to know that... I don't regret meeting you."

Bokuto didn't move much. He just breathed now.

"I am... Very happy to have met you. And to have gotten to know you..."

Akaashi paused for a long moment and said nothing for a while. But then he spoke up again.

"So... Thank you, Koutarou, for talking to me me in the hall that day... And asking me if I was alright. Because I wasn't, then. But... I am, now."

Slipping his head down to Bokuto's chest, Akaashi leaned against his frail frame. Akaashi listened to the quickened rate of Bokuto's still beating heart, and knew that this was his response to his words.

Akaashi closed his eyes against him. He found he had nothing more to say. He instead allowed his actions to speak for him. He pulled himself closer to Bokuto, and nudged his face into the warmth of his neck. He could feel Bokuto's chin rubbing against the top of his head, like it always did. It never failed to comfort Akaashi. He breathed in that familiar scent that he'd grown so attached to, then exhaled quietly against Bokuto's prominent collar bone.

Akaashi could feel a weak, ailing arm pull itself up to rest upon his shoulder. To this, he shifted in closer and allowed his body to relax. His breathing evened out and in no time, he could feel himself slipping, slowly, into the warm grasp of sleep, unable to resist.

In a daze, Akaashi's last words were, "Good night, Koutarou," before he slipped off into a deep sleep.

He dreamt of nothing in particular that night. He suffered no nightmares, nor did he see anything remotely close to a dream. There was nothing. There was only blackness.