Certain

certain

something short in the midst of a weepy day

"i'm not alright," you whisper, words thick and rife with sadness. it's obvious you aren't, if the tears that pool in your eyes are anything to go by, but geto stays silent at your admission, merely pulling you closer and tucking you into his side.

his arm is steady around your shoulder, tracing delicate little circles as you slump against him, utterly and entirely drained. he waits patiently until your tiny voice continues its murmur, "i'm just so tired, suguru."

geto presses a firm kiss to your forehead, hoping to convey all the words, all the love he never could. instead he weighs your short sentences, turning them over and over in his mind until the rough words have turned smooth and he plucks them out again to tell you: "you're ok."

the two words have you stiffening, spoken with such steadiness and conviction that the teardrops slip down your face, trickling down your skin one by one. and yet, you don't move to swipe them away, not when suguru believed in you so. you weren't broken or fragile or needing improvement, you were simply ok.

"you sure?" your voice wavers, desperation leaks out from your tone but you can't find it in yourself to care.

because geto - strong and unfaltering geto - nods sharply, softening only to meet your nervy gaze that shines with stifled cries and an unbridled adoration. "as sure as my love is for you."