Hideaway

I didn't think that it was that hard to figure out.  It wasn't like there were so many exceedingly complicated hiding places on the island.  It wasn't like we worked at all to hide it, either.  It was kind of an idea that if we had to get away from even Kairi, there had to be some place for us to go, without hiding behind a closed and locked door, or curling up in the shack.  Everyone knew where we hung out, so, by default, we had to find somewhere else.
Kairi's phone call was frantic, followed closely by Sora's mother's equally panicked call.  I just sat there smirking as they squealed at me in half hysteria, before murmuring assurance—Sora's fine, and I know exactly where he is.  I just won't tell you.
There was no one around, which wasn't all that odd—it was nearing midnight, and the moonlight was relatively dim for a summer night.
I took my time on the path, and was extra careful climbing the last twenty or so feet up, but pulling myself to the top was easy and simplistic.  Sora was settled in the middle of the platform, hugging his knees, moonlight illuminating the top of his chocolate spiked head, making it appear almost silvery-white.
"Hey," I softly stated, trying not to startle him.  I ambled towards him cautiously, kneeling before him and curling a hand around his cheek.  "Are you alright?"
The shake of his head was hesitant, barely there.  "I feel stuck."
"What do you mean?" I shifted, sitting Indian style in front of him.  He reached out, curling a hand over the left side of my chest—but never getting any closer.  This was a bad time to think about my speeding heart, but it made itself known both to me, and most likely to Sora.
"I mean, I did some great things, or that's what they keep telling me.  But, I keep focusing on all of my mistakes, and then I hear them whispering, you know?  My mom still wants to know where I am at every waking moment, Kairi is still clinging to my arm with thoughts of marriage and babies, and nothing's really changed.  I feel stuck."
I wanted to lean forward—I wanted to let him know that I was there, more than in just a physical sense.  I just couldn't think of how.
I couldn't think of what to say.
So, the first thing out of my mind was, "You're thinking too much, Ra."
He laughed a little.  "Sorry, Ku," he emphasized the ending of my name, mocking me a little. "I wouldn't want to set fire to our little island by doing something as anticlimactic as thinking."
"I'm serious, Sora," I whispered.
"I don't think I'm following you," he murmured, just as quiet.  He lifted his head a little, peering at me through his lashes.  I could see the tear tracks on his face.
"Is there something else?" I pressed, wrapping my free hand around his wrist, sliding up towards his hand.
"No," I lost sight of those big, blue eyes again.
"Sora, I can't help you if you don't let me."
"Have you ever been afraid of yourself, Riku?"  This time, he really looked me in the eyes, and I could see his brimming with tears.  "Like, genuinely afraid of the ideas you could conjure up when you're feeling broken, or pushed, or shattered?  Have you ever been so deathly afraid of that little voice in your head that makes you actually consider all the bad ideas you have?"
"Sora?" I croaked, a lump forming in my throat.  He pressed himself towards me, forehead against my chest, tucked under my chin.  His arms were unyieldingly tight around my waist.
"I had to get away from them, and I was running, and then I was climbing really fast, and I almost slipped.  Something in me whispered, what would happen if you just let go?  And I was so afraid Riku, but not afraid of falling—I was so deathly afraid of me."
"I gave into the darkness," I mumbled.  "I know what it's like to be terrified of yourself."
His sobs were quiet, but I could hear them, ripping me apart—the thought of Sora even thinking of his own death scared me worse than the darkness ever could.
I pushed him away from me, just enough to readjust him on my lap.  I brushed his chocolate spikes out of his face, watching the tears make trails down what was normally flawless, sun-kissed skin.  He was trying so hard to push them back, but he couldn't, and that alone vexed me.
"Sora," I whispered.  "I want you to calm down, alright?  Breathe."
I watched him closely, carefully, as he paced his breathing with mine, dragging a clenched fist over his eyes.  He still whimpered a bit, involuntarily, but he watched me just as closely, trepidation clear on his normally child-like features.
"Did you forget?" I asked softly, tapping the silver crown that rested on his chest.  He gasped then, wrapping a hand around the necklace, as though he'd forgotten it was ever there until that moment.
"How could I?" he asked, a sad smile still ghosting over his lips.  "You threw it at me right before we closed the door."
"Do you remember what it stands for, Sora?"
"You never told me," he frowned a little.
"What did I yell at you, right before you shut the door?  You're thinking too much."
"Don't forget me?" he whispered.
"Yes that, but there was something else.  There are three spikes on your crown, Sora.  There's a meaning behind it."
"Will you just tell me, please?" he whimpered.  
I stroked his fingers, unclenching them, so the crown would rest in his palm.
"I," I placed my finger on spike one, "Love," and then to the second, "You," and then the third.
"Riku," he gasped, avoiding my gaze a little bit.
"Hey Sora?" I stated, a little timidly, which was totally out of character for me.
"Yeah?" he muttered, just as shy now.
"Stop thinking so much," I cupped his chin then, tilting my head, and I kissed him—soft and simple.  It was the press of lips, the hesitant touch of tongue to the seal of his mouth, the warmth of skin on skin, of Sora on Riku, of Riku on Sora.
We worked a little harder to secrete our little hideaway, on the cliff above the waterfall, after that.