Unexpected-RikuxSora

It was funny because it was unexpected.  You know what I mean?  I was sure—when we were little—our parent's had kind of assumed that Riku would've been the third wheel.  That out of all of us, he was the most to himself, and he would've separated himself from us, while Kairi and I became an example of everlasting love.  Everyone had known it—parents, friends, family.  Everyone had known.

We never would have expected this.

I, never in a million years, would have expected this.
When we got back to the Island nearly a year ago, we were all close, an inseparable threesome forever—best friends forever, right?  We'd been saying that since we were young.

And, out of all the predictions our parents made for us, only one was accurate in any way.  Riku pulled away from us, he pulled away from Kairi and I, and all the efforts I made were deemed useless by the silver haired boy.  But, Kairi's efforts were far from ignored, and I hated the feeling in my gut.

I felt abandoned, lost, kind of like a piece of trash, and I lost all motivation to get out of bed in the morning.

It was a constant feeling of uselessness, a consistent pressure in my throat, in my eyes and in my chest, pumped through every cell of my body, through every inadequate centimeter of Sora that was left.
But my best friends were happy, I knew I was supposed to be happy, but I couldn't do it.

I couldn't bring myself to be happy for them.

This horror went on for almost a month, the entire month of June, where it was too humid to go outside and air conditioning was a blessing, but the days blended together all too easily and I think I slept the entire month away.

But, they did notice my absence, eventually.  They made time for the third wheel, after nearly a month of isolation.

They invaded my room, the two of them, connected by the hand, palms pressed tight together, fingers twined together, together this, together that.  They were like one person.  Did they even go home?  How the hell should I have known, when I didn't leave?

When they didn't care either way?

It was easy to keep my face pressed into the pillow while Kairi talked, murmured, quite possibly cried, the way her voice cracked every few seconds.  It was even easier to ignore them when Riku hushed her, ushered her away and shut the door, clicking the lock shortly after.  It always got harder when it was just Riku there, because with him, I never had anything to hide, because he always knew.

Or, he used to.  Before, I didn't have to.

I still didn't know if the changes were for better or worse.
His lean fingers caressed my skull, ran through my hair, a movement that came naturally, it always had.  He was trying to coax me away from my feathery pillow, trying to look me in the eye, just for a second—to gauge my reactions and ask questions and comfort without words.

"Go away," I muttered, my voice rough from disuse.  But, something in the back of my mind was screaming,

Please don't. Don't go away from me again.

"Nope, not until you tell me what's up."

He tugged at my hair, a little more insistent.

"Don't wanna talk," I whispered.  That pressure, that pain, was a thousand times intensified, strangling me.  I wanted out.

"I don't care.  This isn't like you and I'm not leaving here until you tell me."

"How would you know what is and isn't like me, anyway?  It's not like you've been around to know the difference anymore."

Shit.  That wasn't meant to slip.

"Oh…" He breathed.  For a second, his movements ceased.  "That's what it is."

His hand slid down the back of my neck, to rest against my bare back, gently, barely there.  I shivered, pulled my legs a little closer to my body.  I loathed how impossible it was to stay mad at him, especially when he talked like that, those sad little sighs and almost inaudible words.

I hated it so much.

It made me want to die.

And I wasn't going to talk, but I'd give him what he wanted.  Silently, I pulled my face away from the pillow, cocking one eyebrow up lifelessly when he frowned.

He trailed a thumb beneath my eyes, across my jaw, before resting on my cheek.  This was going to be short lived, I was sure.

"What happened to you?" he choked out.  His eyebrows pulled down, hesitant, nervous, worried, emotions swirling in his eyes desperately begging to be acknowledged.

"Oh, you care now?"

He frowned deeper, worry lines creasing his forehead.  

"I always did," he whispered, confusion dominating his words, his actions.

"Whatever," I whispered, pushing his hands away.

He hugged me, just for a second, planted a kiss on my forehead.

"I always will."

He was gone before I opened my eyes again.