Work Text:
narancia remembers that day like the back of his hand. where he took one last look at fugo before he jumped off the pier on that fateful evening. a look that meant everything and nothing all the same. he was crying but no one could tell the difference between his tears and the ocean water soaking him to the bone.
was he crying too? did it pain him just as much to say goodbye? one part of him didn't want fugo to feel the way he felt, god knows how much it fucking hurts. a hurt that plagues narancia deep within his ribs. a hurt that he knows will stay as long as he lasts.
but a small, selfish side of narancia that comes out on nights spent alone, wants fugo to ache the way he aches. an ache that burns him just as much as it freezes his heart, pain and pleasure, heaven and hell, it feels all the same. it feels all the same.
especially times like these, where narancia reflects on the days spent with fugo where time seemed to blend together, studying up until 5 in the morning, stealing abbacchios cigarettes and smoking on the roof, skinny dipping in the river. they say you never know you miss something until it's gone, and narancia knows that more than anyone.