Work Text:
Soul rummages through the cabinets, hoping that something will jump out to him and supply the perfect idea for breakfast. He sighs, and shuts the cabinet door. It slams. Heart can’t help but jump at the noise.
(A gunshot. The pit. Being br–
Being made anew.)
“{Do you have anything you want, Heart?}” Soul asks, his smile evident in his voice. It causes a smile to tug at Heart’s lips. It seems like Soul is constantly smiling these days. It’s nice.
Heart thinks, his wings flapping gently as he concentrates. He wants Soul to be happy, wants to hear and feel his grin spread wider across his face. Heart tries to think back, to before he spent everyday near pinned to Soul’s side. Most of the time, Soul would just grab something quick and easy, something that could barely be considered a meal, while also starting his first (or second, maybe third if it was a rough night) energy drink of the day.
(Heart couldn’t judge Soul’s less than stellar eating habits. He wasn’t any better. If he felt inclined to be honest with himself, he was probably worse. At least Soul didn’t ‘forget’ to eat for days at a time.)
Heart shakes his head, and his wings, clearing the thought from his head. They’re both better now. The past doesn’t matter, what matters is that he is here with Soul now.
He remembers one time, Mind made pancakes for the three of them. They had all gathered together for the meal, in Concord, naturally. There were no fights, no arguments, beyond a brief session of bickering about who was best at flipping the pancakes.
(Soul did decently with his, Heart thought he had done pretty good– though when it came to Mind’s turn, Heart couldn’t help but scare him mid-flip, enthusiastically wrapping his arms and wings around the other man. Half-solid pancake smeared over the pan as Mind jumped with surprise. Mind did his best to salvage it, and it actually turned out alright.
Heart should know, Mind forced him to eat those ones. It was worth it.)
“(What about… pancakes?)”
“{You know what, yeah! Pancakes sound great, thank you moonlight.}” Soul rewards Heart with a brief kiss on the cheek for his efforts, before Soul turns to gather all of the ingredients he needs.
Heart stumbles as Soul drags him along by the wrist. He can feel his hair blowing in the slight breeze coming from nowhere in particular. Soul throws himself down onto the grass, tugging Heart down with him. Soul lays down, letting Heart sprawl over the top of him.
(Heart doesn’t think of going outside with Mind, to the back of the house where their garden is. He doesn’t wonder if Mind still looks after the plants. He doesn’t think about how Mind only ever begrudgingly allowed Heart to lean against him– or at least that’s what Mind attempted to convince them both of. Heart always pretended to not notice the way Mind leaned into him, curled into his touch.
Soul welcomes Heart’s touch. Heart is glad to have someone who truly appreciates him. He is.)
“(Soul?)”
“{Heart, what’s up?}”
“(Tell me about the sky?)”
“{Of course–}” Soul kisses Heart’s temple before continuing, “{It’s a grey-ish blue, covered with thin clouds. There’s also a few very nicely shaped clouds above us. It’s beautiful.}”
“(And the sun?)”
“{The sun is… dim. Dim enough that it doesn’t overtake the rest of the sky. It’s quite pleasant, really.}” There is something to Soul’s voice that Heart can’t quite place. He doesn’t have to; Soul runs a hand through Heart’s hair and the action pulls him away from his thoughts.
Heart hums contentedly as he arches his back, stretching his arms and wings out over Soul.
Soul places himself in the space between Heart’s wings, pressed against the small of Heart’s back. He puts his arms around Heart’s shoulders as he leans forward, pressing soft kisses against Heart’s neck. Red imprints of Soul’s lips cover up purple bruises.
(Fingers trailing over his neck. Pressing into his skin. Floating. Holy, holy, holy.)
Heart leans into the touch.
Chains draped over Soul’s shoulders, weighing him down and leaving him unable to struggle {not that he would want to} as Whole caresses his hair, plunging him deeper into the water.
“Only a little longer, dearest.”
…
Soul wakes and finds himself unable to move. The chains linger even if they are not physically present. They are his constant burden, weighing him down as a reminder that he is doing this all for something. A higher purpose, greater than he could ever be as ‘himself’.
Soul turns to the body next to him. Strikingly bright moonlight shines from the window, illuminating Heart. Soul gasps at how beautiful he is, how peaceful.
He chokes on his gasp, taking in wheezing breaths. Ah, yes, he forgot to start breathing when he woke up. Again.
Heart stirs next to him.
“(Soul? Are you okay?)” Heart half-mutters, his voice heavy with sleep.
Soul would respond if he could, but he can’t stop coughing as his body rejects the air it is so desperately trying to inhale.
“(Soul?!)” Heart nearly throws the covers off the bed as he bolts upright, wrapping his arms around Soul’s back as he guides him into a sitting position. Soul shakes in his grasp, though his coughing gradually lessens.
Soul goes still, aside from the steady rise and fall of his chest, and he slumps into Heart.
Heart holds him tight, with one hand over Soul’s chest to ensure he’s still breathing. Even when Soul’s breathing evens out and he goes limp as sleep overtakes him yet again, Heart can’t bring himself to sleep.
(Soul never used to be able to go back to sleep after a dream left him in that state, he would stay awake for the rest of the night, too tormented by visions of– something. Whole? Maybe? Heart used to hear him pacing, but if he was awake at that time he was likely to be busy with his own maladies and incapable of helping anyone, let alone himself.
At least Heart sometimes heard a mechanical knocking on Soul’s door, accompanied by hushed voices, or maybe nothing at all save for the soft closing of Soul’s door as two pairs of footsteps walked into his room. That reassured Heart, at least. They could comfort each other, and he could soak in his own misery. He was fine with that. The only comfort he needed was that of a blade.)
He stays awake all night long; his only company being the indistinct mutterings and (pained?) noises coming from the bathroom.