LT

You grew up attached that the hip with Tsukishima Kei. Sleepovers almost every night, physical affection like it was easy, families intertwined. Best friends. The bestest. You didn’t know who you were without him. But when you turned 18, you had to leave to Germany for your dad’s job. You sobbed for months, sobbed and cried and cursed the universe. You knew that it would kill your friendship. Because you didn’t know if you would ever come back. The day you left filled you with dread. You held him tight, memorized him, smelled him because you knew it would probably be the last time. The drive to the airport was silent, him holding your hand the whole way. You were shaking all the way there, sick to your stomach. And you left. He didn’t cry at the airport. Still you’ve never seen him cry. You clutched on tight and promised to keep in touch and call and said that you loved each other like you had millions of times before. And of course, leaving meant you could never tell Kei that you were in love with him like you were planning to tell him on the night of your high school graduation.