His eyes burned from the work he had finished. His hands had been typing for ages, line after line, plunging into the deepest pits of stress. Sleep was unknown to him for nearly a week. Nodding off and finally reaching his deadline, his body settled into the broken office chair. "That's another one publishing out."

You had been waiting to hear from your overworked friend for ages. The last you saw of Yato, he was growing darker eye bags and wearing the same clothing consecutively. His silence became longer over the months, sometimes never reaching back to you until you visited in person. His condition worsened as your relationship did. Naturally, none of his relatives thought to give any support. It was about time you took things into your own hands. You took your car on the fastest route over/ His apartment looked even more run down, covered in thick moss. You had the key to his place and a time he trusted you with his everything. It seems like Yato fears you with his life.

He was slumped at his desk. Your lifeful body is harshly compared to his paling skin. He had nearly forgotten you as his health rotted like the last meal on his bedside. His happiness is lost on him, he's been working so hard that he's lost track of everything. Where was the boy from the academy you remember? Why were his eyes glazed over with nothing but due dates and harsh criticism? If you could turn back time, if your heart allowed you to, you would. Nothing is left of Yato Watanabe after your initial rejection. You did not see anything wrong with him. He holds his newest novel in his thinning fingers. He barely paid your intrusion any mind anymore. His thoughts would whisper to him, if someone is to rob me, at least I had company. In the change of your bonding and your reason to let him go: It was the wrong person, at the wrong time.

It always was, because you had options. You were his entire galaxy, all he had.