Work Text:
It’s odd, Makoto thinks. She sits on the dorm couch, not really reading the book in her hands. Today has been boring. No, that wasn’t precisely it. She’s just been too lazy to do anything today. Or any day. Or it wasn’t laziness at all and every occupant in this building knows what it actually is. She stares at the words “CHAPTER 12” numbly and they stare back at her. It’s no use. Not even today. Oh well.
“Mako?” The voice calls from upstairs. Scuffles get closer and closer. “Hey–” One look at said girl is enough for Yuzuki to stop and back away. She doesn’t like that. She doesn’t like seeing Yuzuki sad, even when she herself is like this. Yuzuki already moves away from the couch like there is a terrifying cockroach (although Yuzu is not afraid of cockroaches) hidden in the throw pillows.
Makoto sets “War of the Worlds” on the table and looks at Yuzuki hanging around in the kitchen. She hovers around the kitchen island tables, no doubt about to stress-cook again. She’s been ruling over the dormitory’s kitchen and no one has been able to make their own foods (no complaints though; everyone enjoys her cooking). Makoto opens her mouth and nothing but air comes out.
“Yuzu.” She stutters her name a bit, as though she hasn’t spoken a single word today.
Yuzuki squeaks faintly and cutely. Makoto doesn’t need to see her looking her way. “Yeah?” She soft-shoes to her side, keeping her own nerves at bay.
Makoto looks at her. Yuzuki’s single thick braid covers the right side of her neck. It’s slightly messed up presumably from lying in bed all day—a slightly different reaction than hers during these days. At least this time her eyes aren’t red. That makes the shorter girl a little more relaxed.
Makoto faces her fully, then beckons her to sit in the gaping space. Yuzuki obeys with no hesitation. She fits perfectly between her and the couch’s armrest. Her hands force themselves to look relaxed and fail. Yuzu looks with slightly wide eyes as Makoto brings her hands to hers. Slowly, she drapes them over her own shoulders and pulls Yuzuki down on top of her. The younger girl squeaks again, and Makoto smiles for the first time that day. Yuzuki’s plait falls like a curtain to her right; her elbows become her foundation and deterrence from kissing Makoto. Solely because she doesn’t want to push Makoto into a worse mood (as if). Their legs overlap each other, and Makoto guides hers to straddle her own. Yuzuki’s bangs tickle her forehead, and even as she shifts to move them away, Makoto just wants to close right now. Their noses are touching. Yuzuki glares at her short hair instead. Her face is red from holding her breath and whatever Makoto is doing.
“What are you doing…”
“C’mere.” The blue-haired girl leans up to nuzzle. “I need energy.”
“So you’re taking mine? So greedy…”
She kisses the pout away, gently, tiredly. Yuzu must have taken a shower, as her lips are always dry after them. So she helps by licking them gently. The girl on top squirms with her voice and calls her gross. She smirks against her lips. Yuzuki rests her forehead on hers, closing her eyes. She can feel the furrow of her brows in thought. She pulls her down and Yuzu falls on her chest with an “Oof!”
“Makoto, you okay?” The silver-haired girl finally makes eye contact again.
“No. But I wanna cuddle you. That usually helps both of us.”
Her eyes shine bright under the chandeliers and isn't that odd? That Yuzuki would look at her as if she's the world. They aren't two peas in a pod. Their personalities along with their issues, make it so they're in two different worlds. But even two worlds can never be completely different from each other. They aren't destined to be together. Yet such barriers don't confine them, as though they're merely made of glass; God knows how thick or thin it is. Opposites attract? She supposes destiny is the reason why they're currently soaked up in each other's warmth, trying their best to not fall asleep.
Yuzuki mumbles about not being productive because of her, prompting Makoto to shush her while caressing her hair, which causes the former's eyes to widen slightly before relaxing timidly. She knows how Yuzuki gets when she doesn't create something during that very day. While she herself often loses her ability to care, she understands. There was a time she had energy to care, too.
Yuzuki pecks her hair in turn; the small action drives Makoto to squeeze her. Her girlfriend is the softest thing in the world. Letting out a content hum, Yuzuki burrows her face into Makoto’s neck, and her long lashes tickle the blue-haired girl.
It's okay to sleep. They have every right to rest. Makoto doesn't need a reason why and she hopes Yuzuki sees that she herself also doesn't. There is something to envy about her current position—breathing in the wonderful girl above her and being close to the soapy scent and warmth slowly drowning out the doldrums swimming in her head. Her eyes close in small bliss. She pushes the silver head down to nuzzle it closer.
Under a few seconds, they both doze off. Fuuka comes downstairs a minute later. She drapes a blanket over them and turns off the lights.