The door creaked open. The warm, smoky scent of incense clung to the air as an unknown mist.
Aki stepped inside the fifth-floor apartment, slipping off his shoes with practiced ease and lining them neatly on the rack. He slid into his house chappals, shrugging out of his coat as he walked toward the living room.
"What would you like to have?" he asked, draping the coat over the small sofa before switching on the TV.
At the door, Haru hadn't moved. He stood still, eyes scanning the room with quiet hesitation. Something, unseen, unsaid seemed to hold him there.
"Come in. What are you waiting for?" Aki turned toward him.
Haru covered his nose slightly.
"Did you burn incense?"
Aki blinked, recalling. "Incense? Oh, right. Yes I lit some yesterday. Thought it'd make the place feel… refreshing." He walked to the windows and pushed them open, the cold gust of wind touched his body.
Slowly, Haru stepped inside, slipping out of his shoes. He unbuttoned his coat and dropped it beside Aki's on the sofa before sinking into the cushions.
From the kitchen, Aki returned with a warm bottle of water. "Here."
Haru took it, twisted off the cap, and drank.
"You hardly ate anything earlier," Aki said, watching him. "Should I make some soup?"
A faint smile tugged at Haru's lips. "No, thanks. I think I'll just sleep."
The clock on the wall struck midnight. Aki nodded. "All right. Keep the bottle, then."
Haru smirked faintly.
"Wait- you're not going to shower?" Aki asked.
Haru tilted his head. "Should I?"
"It's fine. Only if you want to."
Without pressing further, Aki disappeared into the spare room near the kitchen. A few minutes later, he reappeared. "I've set up the bed. You can sleep there."
"Thanks, Aki."
Haru rose, bottle in hand, and headed toward the room. "Good night."
Aki's gaze lingered on him.
Haru paused at the doorway, he smiled Softly.
"See you tomorrow," he murmured before closing the door behind him.
The TV still murmured in the background, its noise bleeding into Aki's thoughts. A cool gust swept in from the open window, carrying with it the city's midnight air. He crossed the room and shut it, the latch clicking softly.
"Yes," he whispered to himself. "It's better now."
He switched off the TV and headed toward his own room.
On the sofa, their coats still lay side by side. The faint, lingering perfume of incense clung stubbornly to the air, a ghost of yesterday's fire.
♥️