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Only If...

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It was 2 am when your phone started buzzing underneath your pillow, the usual place you left it at when you weren’t really expecting anyone to reach out to you. Albeit a rare occurrence, work could call late at night if there were any emergencies, but the streets had been so calm lately it was as if every villain had dissipated for the time being. With a groan, you stretched a bit as you let out a yawn before grabbing your phone but your actions stopped as soon as you saw who was on the other side of the line.


Aoyama’s face smiled at you from the screen and you wondered for umpteenth time why you hadn’t deleted his pictures yet even if it had been well over a month since he left your life. Your heart squeezed in your chest, and you felt it shrinking until it seemed to be about the size of a pea – you believed yourself to be strong however, and even when you didn’t have the best memories with him you wouldn’t be the one to turn your back to him.

“Hello?” you said as soon as you picked up the call. The only thing you heard from the other side were sobs, something you’d grown accustomed to during the three years your relationship with him lasted. It worried you at first, but soon enough you couldn’t tell the difference between him faking to be sad and his depressed days. “Aoyama, are you okay? Can you talk to me?”

Only silence came and you seriously thought he had just called to see if you’d get worried over him when a loud cry reached your ears, making you jump in shock. “Mon cher, I’m s-so glad you answered,” he muttered between tears and hiccups, and that’s when you realized – he was drunk. “I didn’t know who to turn to, w-who to ca-call, everyone’s busy and moving on with their lives… and I’m just here.”

You gulped and asked, “Where are you? Are you okay?” Trying your best to ignore the French that had once made you swoon, you tried to listen for any indicators that could tell you where he was, but the only thing that you could hear was the faint static coming from a TV.

“I’m…” more silence followed as he broke into silent cries again, his breathing heavy. “I’m at home but I’m not okay. I’m on my bed, I downed the whole bottle of raspberry vodka you left here for my birthday and I don’t know what to do. I don’t feel well at all. I’m all alone and I need you. I miss you.”

The last part took you by surprise and it was your time to think about what you’d say next, knowing fully well what he wanted you to do. You remembered the constant fights, the insults (and sometimes objects) thrown around by the both of you, his ego getting in the way of the relationship, your own selfishness preventing you from ever saying ‘sorry’… all of that and much more, factors that managed to break the bridges you both had built together. “You know that you can’t just call in the middle of the night, right?”

It pained you too, more than you’d ever care to admit, and as you heard him sucking in a breath you couldn’t help but tear up too. “I-I know! I wasn’t trying to be a nuisance or anything; I just wanted to hear you again.” For a few moments he was quiet again, no crying, and then he spoke up again. His voice sounded tired and slightly more sober, even if it was just a tiny bit. “We were a really b-bad match, right? A faux pas in the way things were supposed to go.”

“I wouldn’t say it like that.” A sad smile appeared on your lips as you recalled the day things finally went awry for the better and how he had sworn you were the worst thing that had ever happened to him. It had hurt before and it hurt you now, but you only swallowed back the sadness to keep on going. “We just weren’t meant for each other. It’s not an uncommon thing, you know.” You absentmindedly wrapped yourself a bit more with the covers, the warmth doing wonders to soothe your pain. He hummed in response, and you knew that the talk was also helping him calm down. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him as well. “Are you falling asleep?”

“Pardon (Y/N),” was the only thing he muttered.

You let out a soft chuckle as a tear slowly rolled down your face and onto the pillow. “Look Aoyama, we’re both tired and we have to go to our agencies in the morning. I’ll tell you what, I’ll leave you a message when you hang up so you can remember this, and if you still want to talk just hit me up. I have to sleep now, but… it was nice talking to you again, I guess.”

And with that you hung up, giving him no time to even say ‘bye’ too. It was for the better, you told yourself – but as you stared at your phone you asked yourself if you’d really do what you said you would. Letting out a sigh you put the device back on its place and moved around until you found a comfortable position again. You’d wait for the morning, and if you still felt the same squeezing inside you’d message him.

Morning had never seemed to come so fast.