"You need to understand that you don't have bad mental health - you have mental illness."
Malik didn't teach Bakura how to love himself, but he was the bridge that helped him get there.
[ Credit for cover: samael_dire on Instagram ]
[ MLM, Thiefship...
Oof sorry this is also late, but I was on a train and then at work and I really didn't want to proofread NSFW stuff in public. Hope y'all enjoy! The amazing art in this chapter was done by ThiefKingYall on tumblr! Go check them out!
CW: Slight panic, bleeding, NSFW, trauma
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Bakura narrowed his eyes at the glasses in the display case. "Are you sure that pair looked good?" He muttered. "I don't want to look like one of the dweebs. I've already gotten too close - this could be the thing that makes them think I'm one of them."
Malik snorted and pulled up the photo of Bakura in his two pairs of glasses on his phone. "I'm sure. Look." He flicked between them for Bakura. "You look good. Especially in the black and gold pair."
Bakura hummed. "I think I prefer the red-rimmed ones." He flicked back to the ones in question, then forward to Malik's favourite pair. "You just have a thing for gold."
"And you just have a thing for red," Malik shot back, pocketing his phone again. "But you looked good in both of them, so it doesn't matter."
Bakura sank into the white plastic chair by the counter and leaned his head back. A few browsers milled around the shop, looking from case to case, the brilliant white lights reflecting off the glass. He rubbed his eyes as a child hopped up on a stool to properly see a pair of bright blue glasses.
"I don't get why I need them," he huffed as Malik sat beside him. "I've lived without them for ages."
"That's what you said about the inhaler," Malik pointed out. Bakura had ended up being diagnosed with asthma and was due to take a screening test to see if he was on the autistic spectrum. He had taken his shots, squeezing the life out of Malik's hand, and then stole a lollipop from the doctor's desk ("Because fuck her."). "Plus it could be because of your scar."
Bakura grunted. The inhaler had been useful, he supposed. It stopped him wheezing and coughing as much, especially after running or using his ka. And he did struggle to see out of his right eye a lot more. "Still. Glasses sound like a bullshit way to get people to spend money on something that'll break in a week."
"They won't break in a week."
"Then why do I need two pairs?"
"In case you lose or break one pair- you know what, stop complaining." Malik shook his head. "At least try them first."
Bakura huffed and reclined in the chair. His hair fell back away from his shoulders as he did so. "I guess I could."
"You'll have to," Malik snorted. "You've already paid for them."
Bakura shrugged. "I could give them to that kid." The girl was running around looking for her mom now, a pair of green glasses clenched in her chubby fist.
"That's not how glasses work." Malik pinched the top of his nose. "Just get through the end of this without complaining and I'll give you a massage when we get back."
