note: Late post but this was my submission for shallurazine. The admins were so nice and super patient with my technical difficulties. Honestly pls participate in the next issue. Its such a fun community full of wholesome content. AND SUPPORT IT TOO. All the proceeds went to charity too. Wholesome content all around.

like we used to do

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The set of Allura's lips tells Shiro what he already knows but has been disregarding for the past couple of hours since he decided to leave his house and show up in pajamas to her door: that this is a bad idea.

The door is only opened a sliver so that half of Allura's body can be seen while her left leg blocks the door from the inside, a habit formed from never installing a chain guard despite living in an apartment on the sketchier part of the student town.

It stings, how there is a physical wall (or door, if one pays attentions to technicalities) to remind him of the metaphoric one between them, and not for the first time, Shiro grieves for how things have changed.

He shifts and with long limbs in loose-fitting night clothes, he projects how nervous he feels. He opens his mouth to say something until his brain decides that he can't say something eloquent so he shrugs instead, his mechanical arm whirring faintly, his chin jutting to the seventy-dollar memory foam pillow under his hand.

Allura, from her side of the door, understands for the most part. And she understands quite a lot more than the obvious request for another sleepover. It's been two months. Divided into three installments of detachment relapse, it's really not enough time or opportunity to come to terms with what has passed and what is now. It wasn't all Shiro, too. Once it was Allura who came knocking on his door, but that was beside the point.

Allura thinks: Maybe in a few more months, we won't need to find each other anymore. Maybe in a few more months, we can sleep on our own beds and not feel like something is missing. Maybe in a few more months, we can be strangers again.

Just to torture, Allura cocks a pale brow at him, inquisitive of why. It's not that she doesn't know, but she's deprived of Shiro actually telling her what he wants. After everything's been said and done, this is her chance to get him back for it, at the risk of being called petty.

Predictably, Shiro looks annoyed. Do you really want me to say it? Instead, he says, "I couldn't sleep."

To which Allura counters, "And being here will make you sleepy?"

But Allura isn't the only one who wants to settle a score. "I miss you," he replies easily, knowing nothing disarms her more than genuine affection.

Allura opens the door.

The double bed was not made for two full-grown, considerably large adults trying to sleep with miles between them. Alura's bed is pushed to the farthest corner so she takes the side against the wall and Shiro sleeps on the edge. They look foolish with all the space between them, almost as if they're making way for a third person to wedge in between.

Allura wonders if she should say something. She wants to. She wants the air full of talk like it used to be but after all that's passed, they have unlearned their ease and ran out of things to say. How can she miss everything they used to be and not want to do something to get it back at the same time?

Beside her, she can feel Shiro trying to not move so much and breathe only a little. For a big man, he's always trying to take up as little space as he can. Even with his prosthetic detached, his mass makes his side of the bed dip, and the warmth that radiates off him is great. Allura almost admits to herself how much she misses it, but this is already a dangerous territory and there's no need to acknowledge things that they're both trying to bury. Facing his back turned to her, it feels like she's trying to memorize every shape of him before he leaves her again.

When Shiro begins to turn so he can mirror her, Allura closes her eyes. Cowardly, perhaps, but safe. She wonders if she can fake being asleep but Shiro has always said she sucked at it. She can feel his gaze as heavy as a wet blanket.

"Stop staring at me and go to sleep." She says into the thick silence of the room.

She can almost hear his smile in his tone. "You're not someone I'd get sick of staring at."

Allura opens her eyes and tries to see if he is being genuine. It never used to be hard to tell. "A little too late to be flirting with me now, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry I'm here," Shiro finally says.

Allura shakes her head, the clouds of silver hair shifting against her pillowcase. "Not your fault."

"Whose is it, then?"

Allura knows bait when she hears it. It takes a saintly patience not to snap back, not to toss blame, not to say anything at all. Shiro knows who she holds accountable and vice versa.

When Allura doesn't answer, Shiro speaks again. "I wish it doesn't have to be like this."

"You mean you wish we didn't have to be apart anymore?"

"Yeah," he says, then, takes it back. "No. I wish I don't have to want you anymore. I can never not feel like my day is substantial."

Ah, but that stings. Allura tries to swallow past her disappointment and bitterness but both stain her tongue. "You could leave."

"But I can't sleep by myself."

"And is that my problem?" She pedals back, takes on a kinder tone. "How do you expect to forget me when we keep getting together like this?"

As if there's an answer to that. As if there's a logic to why people do these types of cruelty to themselves. "I'm not thinking very clearly."

"No," Allura agrees. "Indeed this is stupid of you."

That's not anything new so he doesn't respond.

"I can't help but miss you." A thousand regrets color his voice, sad and wishful at the same time. "Sometimes I wonder if I just got used to us. But the loss of familiarity can't hurt this much. I keep thinking about what went wrong. It's like we just woke up one day and decided to stop trying to be good people to each other."

Something bitter and miserable catches in Allura's throat, impeding breath like bad heartburn, making yearning burn in her chest. This isn't the first time they've had this conversation but it never gets any easier to stomach. Somehow, she finds the power to speak. "And do you think that we could go back to being good people to each other?"

"I don't know. I don't think we're even the same people we fell in love with." Shiro stirs again, both restless and mild. When he moves and bears down on his pillow, the scent of him lingers delicately. "But if you let me, I'd like to try. I think walking away from you was a mistake I don't want to repeat."

And there it is. Allura does not know she's been waiting for such a thing: a denouement after months of falling action. Resolution isn't a clear happy ending, but it's hopeful for one. Her hand reaches up and crosses the space between them, shattering walls and lines and ego and pride when it touches the curve of his jaw. Her thumb sweeps over the coarse growth of shadow on his cheek and feels warm for the first time since he left. "Then stay," she tells him, simple as that, because moving onwards is just as easy.