disclaimer: don't own.

a/n: to be honest, i lost inspiration and motivation so i ditched writing for a while (AND ORAS CAME OUT YOU JUST CAN'T BLAME ME DAMMIT). but exams are over and i graduated! hip hip hurrah! maybe.

a/n2: i just wanted to write something simple.

. . .

The clock reads 2:39 AM.

Beside him, she sleeps, snoring softly, her warm exhales brushing against his skin. A strand of hair usually rests against her cheek, or her nose, but it is neatly tucked away behind her ear. Back when it was 12. Or maybe 11. He's not sure.

(And he was tempted not to remove her hair from her face because she squirms, her eyebrows contorts cutely and her nose twitches when it stays for long periods of time.

There was once when he waited for it to wake her. She sneezed. He snickered and she smacked him for it.

Most importantly, he slept on the floor. For two days. It was not comfortable.)

To him, tracing the curves of her nose and the length of her eyelashes for long periods of time is addicting. Now, Nishiki knows her face like he recognizes his own name.

Others considers it a privilege. He takes it as a miracle.

(And the events involving that purple-haired jerk confirms that Kimi is more to him than interesting or food.)

They're desperation. He clings to her existence as much as she clings to him—one would crumble without the other—and at this point, he is not sure what he's scared of anymore: losing himself or losing her.

(Nishiki Nishio is dependent. Nishiki Nishio is dependent on a human. Nishiki Nishio is dependent on fragile humans who dies too easily. Nishiki Nishio is dependent on a human like he was dependent to his very dead sist—)

"Nishiki," his name comes out as something like a croak or a breath, her one eye opening slightly, drowsily glaring at him, "just sleep." And she shifts, turning away.

He stares at the back of her head momentarily, somewhat bewildered.

In the end, he stops thinking and closes his eyes, burying his head into the pillow.

. . .

"You worry too much," she grins as she snatches his hand, "I'm fine."

He tightens the hold on her fingers and sips on his bitter coffee, eyes not meeting hers. He answers with a grunt.

"I won't leave you, Nishiki," she says it confidently, serenely, and he feels as if his heart stopped beating, "I promise."

He opens his mouth, pulling the cup sharply away from his face, almost spilling the coffee. He wants to laugh at her face, because Kimi you are so stupid and that's impossible—

She giggles and the words dies in his tongue as he looks at her incredulously.

And Kimi smiles.

"I'll go wherever you go, okay?"

. . .

—end—

. . .

a/n3: haven't caught up to tg yet so i have no idea about new developments whoops.