it’s six minutes before midnight, six minutes before your birthday, six minutes before you turn yet another year older.
and it tugs at your heartstrings.
it’s not the aging that hurts, but it’s the fact that it’s supposed to be your special day, yet it’ll probably be like any day.
your regular routine, wake up, get ready for wherever you’re going today, school, work, maybe just grocery shopping, then you get home, and do nothing for the rest of your day. and go to sleep like it wasn’t your birthday in the first place.
your friends are all busy, and you know that they’d loved to hang out with you, maybe even throw a little surprise party, their busy schedules prevent them from doing so.
your parents are also out of town, so you’re basically all alone, well, you still have your boyfriend, oikawa. but he’s also going to be busy with volleyball practice or something close adjacent.
but your thoughts get interrupted by a frantic knock on the door, making you ponder on who in the world could be knocking on your door like a madman a few minutes before the clock strikes midnight.
you still get up from your comfortable position on the couch to see who could be at your door.
and much to your surprise, it’s oikawa. one hand behind his back and the other running through his sweat soaked hair.
“tōru? what are you—” he rushes to kiss your cheek, although it’s more his lips grazing across your face in a quick movement than a kiss, but it’s the thought that counts.
he hurriedly steps in your house and brushes past you, still making sure you don’t see what he’s holding behind his back.
you check your phone, and it’s now three minutes before the clock hits midnight. maybe that’s why he was in such a rush.
you walk after him, and see him already plopped on your couch. along with a small chocolate cake on your coffee table, decorated with strawberries around the edges, and a ‘happy birthday, y/n’ written in cursive with white buttercream.
he’s fumbling with a hot pink lighter in his hand, an old crappy one from the back of a kitchen drawer, which barely has any fuel left.
there’s a single candle in the center of the cake, one of those small, striped ones you always had on cakes since you were a kid.
“does it work? i can look for a different one.” you ask, making him look up at you. snapping him out of his focus of trying to get the lighter to actually light up.
“just c’mere, it’ll work.” his tongue sticks out a little in focus, and it puts a small smile on your face. he pats the space beside him, beckoning you to come sit down.
you sit down, and he checks his phone another time. 11:59, only a minute left to get the crappy lighter to work so you can make the wish when the clock strikes.
he murmurs something incoherent, his thumb swiping over the sparkwheel over and over, alas to no avail.
“i can get a new one, this one clearly isn’t working,” you laugh through a breath, getting ready to get up. but he stops you by placing a hand on your thigh.
“baby, you have to make the wish when the clock strikes. it won’t count if you don’t.” he’s serious about this, his brows are furrowed and he’s now biting his bottom lip lightly. using all his willpower to get the damned lighter to give a little more than a spark.
he flicks his thumb one more time, and there it is, an actual flame.
he has no time to get excited over it finally working, he has to light the candle before the flame dims again, placing him right back where he started.
he quickly moves to light the candle, still making sure it’s working before he lights the candle. and the lighter gives up the next second after the flame hits the wick.
only now can he do a little victory wiggle, his hand lightly sqeeuzing your thigh, before grabbing the small cake. careful not to let the flame die down from a rapid movement.
“make a wish, baby.” the atmosphere seems to quiet down from his words, all the other sounds and noises from outside your little bubble tuned out.
you don’t hear the faucet in your bathroom dripping anymore, you don’t hear the gush of wind coming through your slightly ajar window. it’s all blurred out.
all you hear is oikawa’s steady breathing, and the flickering of the candle.
the clock has definitely hit midnight already, but you don’t want this moment to end so quickly. and have it all end as a fleeting memory, one you’ll reminisce in the future.
even if it’s simply eating a cake from the grocery store on the comfort of your couch, in old pajamas and spot cream. with oikawa sitting next to you looking like he ran two marathons back to back, his shirt lightly clinging to his back from the remnants of the summer heat.
it’s a moment you want to last forever, it’s so peaceful to be here with him. on the first minutes of your birthday.
sure you’ve definitely gotten a few ‘happy birthday!’ texts from your friends, but none of them ran all the way to your house to be with you, only he did.
he really didn’t need to, but he still did anyway.
his first thought before the clock striked twelve was you, and how you’d been feeling, since he knows you’re always a bit down on your birthday.
the thing with aging, and not having many people around you to celebrate, he knows it, he knows that exact feeling.
when he lived full time in argentina fresh after graduation, alone in a small dorm room funded by his club, with a small cupcake infront of him, no candle to accompany it.
and he didn’t call anyone, not even you. not wanting to bother you as you’re about to go to sleep, or probably asleep already.
so he knows what it feels like to, to have no one share the special moment of being a year older again.
and he’d run to your house at near midnight after a gruesome flight everytime, if it meant you wouldn’t be so gloomy anymore.
your smile is all he needs to function properly, so when he knows you’re not smiling, he has to take immediate action.
even if it’s to bring a dry chocolate cake your way, and to celebrate your birthday for a few minutes, maybe sing for you, or plop down in bed after devouring the cake.
it’s all worth it if it’s for you, he needs you to be smiling on your birthday, that’s the one day where it’s illegal for you to be sad.
so as he stares at you with hearts in his eyes, chin resting in his palm, he wishes to spend every birthday with you like this.
and that’s exactly what you wish for when you blow out the candle, to spend every birthday— and every other day, with him.
words can’t describe how happy i am to have met you, and call you one of my friends.
you’re so dear to me. you’re one of the best friends imaginable, atleast to me that is.
you’re a sweetheart, you’re funny, and you have all the other good character traits in the world.
i love talking to you alot, it always puts a smile on my face whenever we talk.
it could be about anything, really anything at all, and we’d be able to have a full blown conversation about it, no matter how crazy it is.
and i love how you always support my delusions, and my little 67 problem.
you’re so dear to me, and i love you so much.
and now, it’s your birthday, your special day, the day that’s only about you, no one else.
i’d vouch to call june 2nd ‘nique day’ if that were possible, since i now associate this date with you.
you’ve become a light in my life, and i don’t want that to ever dim or flicker.
this letter may not be much, but i hope you do appreciate it.
happy birthday, nique, may this be a day filled with joy and gifts for you.
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