floating
summary; sakusa waits for you to come home
- pairing; s.kiyoomi x gn!reader
- genre; fluff, angst, comfort
- w.c; 439
- warnings; depression
a/n; i've been struggling so here's me writing for my comfort character 🥲
This is where Sakusa finds you, curled up under the blanket and staring at the wall. He lingers by the door before quietly setting his gym bag on the floor and walks over to you. He unhooks his mask, places it on the nightstand then shrugs his jacket off to hang it up in the closet. He sits on the edge of the bed, his obsidian eyes sweeping over your unmoving form.
You don’t acknowledge him.
“Hey,” Sakusa says, voice gentle as he scoots closer to place his hand on your shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine,” you sound wistful, a soft distant tone as though you've floated away, lost at sea. You blink at the cream-colored wall. “How’s your day?”
Sakusa runs his fingers along your arm. “It's alright,” he says simply before standing up to draw the covers back and slip in. You don’t protest as he rearranges you, coaxes you to turn away from the plaster and drywall, and instead fall onto him and his welcomed warmth. Despite being under layers of soft cotton and down feathers, you’re cold to the touch.
You’re unsure how long you stay like this, swathed in all things Sakusa Kiyoomi. His calloused fingers trace patterns along your skin as the smell of cedarwood and eucalyptus fill your nostrils. Your lips skim along the apex of his shirt and collarbone, you listen to each breath he takes, count the seconds between each inhale and exhale. You shudder and close your eyes.
Sakusa smoothes down your hair and presses his mouth to your forehead as you tremble against him. You’ve drifted nearer but still too far away, just outside of his reach. So he continues to soothe you.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he murmurs against your skin. “We all have our bad days.” Sakusa cups your calf and hikes your leg around his waist to pull you impossibly closer like he’s trying to absorb you. You tighten your hold on him, clinging to him like he’s your lifeline, the anchor to keep you from sailing away.
And here you stay until the darkness begins to subside until the voices in your head quiet down enough for you to focus on the steady thump, thump, thump of Sakusa Kiyoomi’s heart, a reminder that you are alive and you are loved.
You bury your face into the crook of his neck, your fingers brush along the short curls at the base of his skull.
“Thank you,” you whisper, voice quivering but it’s clear and present.
He hums and presses his cheek against the crown of your head.
