#this is some of my worst writing user patpatspatz i have to apologise 😭😭

[selarina]

I have a suggestion! What are your thoughts on the reader helping high school kento build a birdhouse?

"You know one of these days you'll have to actually help, right?"

"I am helping," you frown as you stare at your nails. You're not really looking. It's merely a shield, a way to avert your eyes from his piercing eyes.

"You're..." His voice trails off as he lifts the cumbersome goggles up from his eyes, to see you perched on the marble slab. A figure so idle and bored-looking and yet, you make no means to contribute. "You're sitting.”

He seemed clearly frustrated, but you're who you are, and so you giggled.

"I am. I am sitting while providing you moral support. I’m the pretty view that will keep you from going insane over that birdhouse. There is beauty in this world, Nanami-san. There is joy,” you beam as you wrap up your speech.

"We don't have time for this. We need to submit this birdhouse by Monday," he sighs, his frustration evident in the furrow of his brow. "That's only 3 more days."

“Oh, come on. We've got plenty of time," you say, waving off his concerns with a nonchalant flick of your hand.

But he's not easily swayed. "Plenty of time? We haven't even finished painting it, let alone adding the final touches. And we still need to figure out how to stabilise the roof so it doesn't collapse under the weight of the two birds."

You lean back on your hands, letting out a dramatic weary sigh. "Fine, Nanami-kun. If you're so worried, I'll try and help. But you have to promise me one thing."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "What?"

"That you'll stop stressing out so much. It's just a birdhouse, not a spaceship," you tease, hoping to lighten the mood. "Oh, and that you'll buy me Mochi when we're done with an A+."

"I owe you nothing," he says, his arms crossed in defiance.

"Then I fear," you fake a frown. "I fear my legs just can't seem to reach the ground. You shall have to carry on without me." A tilt of your head, a pout on your lips. God, you're so annoying.

"I'll get you your Mochi," he concedes with a resigned shake of his head. "But only if we manage to finish this on time. And with an exemplary grade might I add."

"A+ and nothing less," you salute him as you hop off the counter. His eyes catch a glimpse of your skirt riding up before his eyes look away and move to the unfinished birdhouse.

---

Your heavy eyes threatened to lull, but you fought against it, you've slept for far too long. And it doesn't help that Nanami's hands are moving in soothing patterns against your back. Up and down, and a circle. Up and down, and a circle.

Your gaze strains to lift up, avoiding any movement that might disturb his lying form. He's already awake, so there's no fear of rousing him awake with your movement. No, your concern lies elsewhere — You're worried about moving, and having to start the day, and having to leave his arms. This is far too comfortable a moment to leave.

Your eyes drift across the room and settle on the red cage in the corner of the room. The cage seems to look a lot more lonelier in the dull light of this cold morning.

“I think he’s sad,” you murmur.

Your gaze remains fixed on the bird inside the cage. The love bird, now singular, was formerly a pair as they usually come. It's a horrible fate, you can't help but think.

“Obviously," came his terse reply.

You don't say anything, letting the silence join you both, you moved your hands on his chest. You repeat the familiar pattern. Up and down, and a circle. Up and down, and a circle.

“Do you think that’ll happen to you if I leave,” you ask, moments later.

“You’re not leaving," he says, quickly.

"No," you countered softly yet insistently. "No, of course not. I only meant if—"

"No," he cut in, his voice firm and resolute. Though his demeanor remained calm— as it often did— you felt his hand tighten around your waist.

You decided not to press further then.

"I think we need to pay more attention to it than usual," you suggested, redirecting the conversation to the love bird. "Else it'll die."

"Maybe that's better," he mused.

"Don't be silly," you chide gently. "He'll be alright. It's only been a week."

A week later, the love bird passed away, succumbing to a broken heart, as the veterinarian confirmed.

Three years have passed since, and you find yourself thinking back to that morning. He's the one who's gone now, his body finding the same soil as the two love birds.

You suppose you're the one who has to answer now.