Creaking Cold

[500 Themes: 87]

Barnaby misses him.

He misses him more starkly than he's felt in awhile, and it hurts – twists his heart, makes him sigh as he listlessly sprawls over the bed, curls onto his side, shifting and tossing and turning and wishing that his arm wasn't draped over the other side of the bed against nothing.

It seems he can't sleep without Kotetsu after all.

He opens his phone, wishing he could send the man a text like he used to, before they lived together – but he knows, knows very well, that Kotetsu's cell phone is nowhere near him and he's probably asleep (as he should be, being that sick), besides.

Barnaby sends a text, anyway.

I love you.

And then he flips through old pictures on his phone – stupid, awful, blurry ones, but ones he loves all the same.

He's biting his lip and trying not to thing too much about how much he misses Kotetsu by the time he reaches the bottom of said pictures, finding that first, stupid prank photograph left on his phone from – what, two years ago, now?

His heart aches.

Barnaby curls his knees up to his chest and sends another text, breath a uselessly pining sigh.

I miss you.