Awkward Domesticity [closed; inordertobelieve]

[righteousjudgement]

The short walk from the train station normally takes about twenty minutes, fifteen if he hurries a little – but Light doesn't hurry today. He takes his time, calling the restaurant to cancel the reservation, then stopping at a convenience store en route to pick up some things – a box of tea, aspirin, liquid cold medicine, a set of travel toiletries – and to order two bowls of take-out udon and vegetable tempura over rice. He knows Teru well enough to guess that if he's sick enough to cancel plans at the last minute, he may well be sick enough to need to be told to stay in bed and rest.

He's carrying too much to call or text when he's nearly there, so he doesn't bother – Teru knows he's dropping by, after all. It would be silly not to at least stop in to check on him, considering Light had already been nearly at the Kyoto station when he'd gotten the cancellation call, and Teru had sounded pretty awful over the phone. Even if their plans for the evening are off, Light's never in a rush to go home to Misa anyway.

He raises his less-burdened arm (the one carrying the medicine and other items, not the two heavy bags of still-steaming food) and knocks twice, frowning a little as the handles of the plastic bag drag against the sleeve of his jacket. It's not dark out yet, but it's chilly enough that Light would rather be indoors enjoying hot soup and better-than-average company – even if he suspects his not-quite-boyfriend will shoo him out at the earliest opportunity. They're similar in that neither of them likes to be observed while in less than ideal form.

Comments

[inordertobelieve]

Teru certainly would have preferred it if Light never came at all, but begrudgingly he had come to accept that it was rude to send him back after he already came most of the way. In the end it was his own fault for cancelling late, just because caving to illness is about his least favourite thing to do.
Teru Mikami just doesn't get ill. He hasn't been ill in years and, frankly, this current condition is an outrage. In a way, it might be favorable that he's almost too busy being miserable physically to focus on the mental pain of being kept from doing everything he's meant to be doing.

It's good when he hears knocking because that at least momentarily frees him from the misery of contemplating his situation. Treating the impending darkness in front of his eyes as he gets up like nothing, Mikami staggeringly makes his way to the door. It should not be as hard as it is, he decides, and along with it comes the decision that he really can't let Light see him like this for longer than maybe 3 minutes. Bad enough that it's happening at all.

He opens the door and really wishes his vision would stop blurring. At least he has his hair brushed and is wearing a proper dress shirt, but his appearance must still be pretty pathetic as he grabs the doorframe for support before he can even do so much as actually look at Light.

"T-thank you for coming..." His voice sounds disgusting to his own ears.