au revoir, mon amour

“and you’re sure you won’t drop me?” 

“yup.” 

yuuji itadori hums, popping the ‘p’ in his response, and eagerly nods in an effort to reassure you. you don’t doubt his strength, truthfully. you’ve known him long enough to acknowledge that your boyfriend’s athleticism was, albeit, a bit frightening. he’s proved on more than one occasion that lifting you is no problem. like the time you refused to wear appropriate walking shoes during your date and he offered to give you a piggyback ride. or how, at your favorite artist’s concert, you couldn’t see them performing on stage so yuuji boosted you up on his shoulder to get a clearer view. never thought anything of it. so yes, carrying you is the equivalent of him picking up a light load of laundry when he has to take it to the washer. basically child’s play for him. it’s just– the circumstances are different now. 

because the outfit you’re wearing is a tad more revealing than you anticipated. it’s not entirely your fault though. influenced by the newest trend that pops up whenever you swipe through your phone, you developed this grand plan of posting on your media apps and ‘soft launching’ your relationship with yuuji. you just knew that your friends would excitedly flip out if they saw it. they’ve only heard stories of the pink haired male so being able to put a person to the name would definitely quell their curiosity. plus, he wholeheartedly agreed when you brought up the concept of ‘soft launching’ and even chuckled when you added that he’d still have that air of mystery surrounding him. he’s rather fond of partaking in your silly interests and trends. the videos you’ve seen have all been adorable and with the promise of halloween coming up, you implemented the plan of wearing matching costumes! and the costume you picked for yourself was definitely your size (you double checked just to be certain!) but with all the frills and patterned lace that fell precariously short on you, it was debatable. you don’t remember red riding hood wearing such a brazen dress as she strolled along the woods.

yuuji doesn’t seem to recognize how bold the outfit is, though.

just shoots you a warm smile and says, “you look s’cute,” before hurriedly averting his gaze and continuing to mess with his phone’s camera settings like you told him to.

always the ideal, courteous boyfriend. to match with you, he’s clad in denim and a dark, plaid shirt that’s rolled up on his forearms, the fabric bunching over his broad shoulders whenever he moves. and you get a peek of the fake fangs he’s wearing whenever he slyly grins. he’s playing as your wolf for the night and boy was he fatal for your heart.  

he pushes the fuzzy wolf ears over his blushy hair as he speaks up, “everything’s all set if you still wanna take that picture.” 

“hmm,” you bite your lip in consideration before staring back at yourself in the mirror and quietly mumbling, “I don’t know. what if I’m too heavy, yuu?” 

it’s a trivial excuse, frankly. yet, the hesitation in your voice beckons yuuji to hold out his hand toward you and ease your troubles. he doesn’t have to move much since the two of you are cramped in front of his bathroom’s large mirror. smushed together in the small room. you had dimmed the lights prior to add onto the ambience but you reason that it’s working against you because the dimness only emphasizes the glint in his eyes. and you notice, for the first time tonight, that his narrowed gaze on you is salacious. almost carnal in his desire for you. you— clad in a cape dyed in the brightest shade of crimson and white knee-high socks with small bows on them. it’s almost criminal for you to tempt him like this. the way you prance around unaware of the effect you bewitch him with. he casually blinks it away before you can ask, however. 

he leans in, partly to hear your concerns better and partly to offer you some comfort as he murmurs, “just c’mere, baby.” 

“my whole weight will be on one of your shoulders, yuu. not to mention– oh!” 

you manage to squeak out as you’re thrown over his shoulder. it’s natural. how easily he squashes any of your worries. and as you’re freely dangling, you have half a mind to wonder if his quick actions are intentional. instinctively, your hand flies back in an attempt to stop the bottom half of your dress from riding up and potentially flashing yuuji. a rampant heat sparks within you. the fact that you’re both standing in front of a mirror causes the tension to grow until it’s impossible to ignore and the yearning nips at you like an incessant thirst that needs to be quenched. little do you know that yuuji’s in a worse predicament, however.

“shit!– oh god.” 

his groan is barely audible with how low he mumbles it underneath his breath. the tone of his voice is gravelly, rough, and completely contrasting from his usual upbeat pitch. because, lo and behold, he does manage to get a glimpse beneath your dress. but he hadn’t intentionally looked. his narrowed gaze was just trained on the mirror in front of him, concentrating on positioning you over his shoulder so you were the most comfortable. he must’ve underestimated his strength, however, because when you shift to get cozy, the end of your dress inadvertently flips up. and a flash of pale cotton peeks out from underneath all the fabric. like a piece of the finest jewelry being unveiled in its confines. yuuji’s broad hand, which holds a secured grip behind your knees, lifts to help smooth down your skirt. he rests a protective hand over the curve of your dress, successfully helping you cover up. nonetheless, your face heats at the possibility that he might’ve gotten a glance. 

“careful!” he huffs out a chuckle as a wobbly smile spreads across his face, “don’t want everyone seeing more than they should.” 

“eek, sorry! I didn’t factor in how short this would be when you carry me.”

and his words are mentioned in yuuji’s typical carefree manner. he had a special quirk of alleviating any awkwardness or discomfort in a situation. yet, his voice sounds airy. like the breath is knocked out of his lungs and he’s struggling to get his thoughts together. his brain is mush. he closes his eyes, sucks in a heavy breath in an attempt to calm himself down. it’s the direct consequence of chastising himself to hold back and not commit to his selfish desires. you’re just trying to have fun! so why is he so worked up? was it the costume? is it how your nails are digging into his back whenever you try to readjust? how delicate you are while you’re balancing over his brawny shoulder? doesn’t help that he ponders on how simple it’d be to manipulate you into a position where he could get another glimpse of what you’re wearing underneath all the satin and lace. the prettiest sight he’s seen so far. so tantalizing. infatuation couldn't encompass the breadth of his feelings. he shakes his head, mentally pushes his brain fog away, and unsteadily raises his phone to the mirror to take the picture. 

surprisingly, he manages to recall the exact way you wished for him to pose. yuuji positions the phone in front of his face, which is covered in the mirror’s reflection, and makes sure the both of you are centered on the screen. his finger instinctively clicks the button on the screen to snap a couple pictures but he’s not focused on that. no, not at all. he’s spellbound; studying the manner of which the bathroom’s dim lights seem to catch on the vibrant color of your costume and illuminate your skin. you’re glistening. sparkling in contrast to his darker outfit. his eyes trail along the soft curves of your legs, following up until the plushness of your skin is revealed from over your socks and he shakily exhales. 

“hm? are you done taking them– aah!” 

jolting in surprise, a breathless gasp escapes your glossy lips when yuuji suddenly nips at your uncovered thigh. it’s abrupt. how the silence morphs into short-winded sounds from you and huffs from him. his hot breath encompasses the entirety of your outer thigh and the heat that was spreading within you becomes instantaneous due to it. goosebumps prickle your skin. your cheeks flare in embarrassment and you draw your hand up in an attempt to quell the desperate noises coming from your mouth. but he’s insatiable. yuuji always is when it comes to you. he coos sweet nothings to you while tensing up his shoulders to better settle you on the hard plane of muscle. 

and even as he sputters a halfhearted, “sorry! I didn’t mean for it to hurt– did it? I’m s’sorry ‘bout that, baby,” the fangs he’s donned causes a rather electrifying response as he leans in again. 

his sharp canines catch onto a sensitive part of your skin and you’re squirming in his hold. the initial pain sizzles into a carnal type of thrill. knows that he’s got you where he wants you when your legs unintentionally knock open as a result of the pleasure that shocks you. running his tongue along your skin, he soothes the mark by pressing a soft kiss on it. he distinctly hears a soft whine leave your lips. it pitches higher than usual; caught on your tongue due to the stickiness. you’re killing him. transforming him into a pile of pathetic mush that has one belief– you. his eyes roll back into his head as he blinks hard enough to emanate black. because he sees you– clear as day– or rather, what’s beneath you. exposed and suggestively spread due to his affection. spots the familiar cotton that has him gulping on nothing. and it’s when you hear his heady whine that you finally remind yourself to clamp your legs together. 

“wha–” you pause, struggling to gather your words before restarting, “what’s wrong? are you alright, yuu?” 

it’s rare that yuuji loses himself like this. typically the model of discipline and control, his self-restraint is unrivaled. but no, tonight he allows himself to get lost in this intoxication that can only be described as you. an arousal so strong that it consumes him in an everlasting heat. he swallows, an attempt to regain his composure, but it isn’t enough to clear his throat as he speaks up.

“c’mon baby,” he huskily rasps, “don’t make me spell it out for you.”

and he doesn’t need to because it is oh-so apparent. from the way his lips part, to the discreet buck of his hips against the bathroom counter; it’s obvious that he’s gone. indulging in the sweetest treat of the season. just the sight of you has him keening. his fingers, which kept a respectable distance, now path higher up your dress. blunt fingertips press against the inner portion of your thigh and your gasps become broken as he uses his strength to ease your legs wider. pries you open with a rawness that has you stupefied and unblinking. presses a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on your thigh. he’s so close to where you secretly wish for him to touch you. and gosh do you just want his thick fingers to prod a little further so you can chase that pleasure.

“y’know I want you.” 

there’s a hint of pleading in his voice– he’s begging you to understand the effect you have on him. how utterly wrecked he is for you. all dressed up like this for him. his grip gets firmer to the point where your plushness seeps from beneath his fingertips. and it’s the sight that he stares at through the mirror that has him panting like an overworked dog. mouth open as his mind reels in passion. he’s caught in a daze. because your legs are enticingly spread again to invite the warmth that his touches cast upon you. and this time it's intentional. droopy eyes honing in on the prettiest view he’s ever had the honor of seeing. can almost hear the moment his self-restraint snaps. he has half a mind to frantically take another picture of this position, one that he’ll personally have for safekeeping, and zooms in on your figure in the camera’s frame. a lazy smirk settles on his face–well, it comes off as almost smug because of his pearly canines– but it's not. he's fully devoted to you. absolutely under your command. literal hearts in his eyes as he snaps a couple pictures and murmurs about how your beauty leaves him in disbelief. can't imagine how he got so lucky. a drawn out groan leaves his lips once he realizes that his pretty red riding hood was all desperate for him. then, he drops his phone back in his pocket, deciding that he’ll deal with it later. his other hand, now free, traces along the curve of the bottom of your skirt and lifts the frilly fabric up. 

“wanted you ever since I saw you wearin’ this f’me.” 

your mind is so static that you can’t hear his confession. and before you can ask him to repeat himself, he’s carrying you down the hallway and into his bedroom. 

but by a rare stroke of luck, when the two of you began dating, yuuji noticed a drastic change in the perception he had of himself. he could be jealous. and in hindsight, it sounds silly because of course, there's nothing wrong with your partner being a bit insecure. it's human nature and happens to the best of us. but yuuji didn't lack self-esteem. no, he was just protective over you. guarded, vigilant, and careful about everything that involved you in some shape or form. and perhaps the inkling of keeping you all to himself has run through his mind more than once. these strong sentiments scared him, initially; rattled him enough to where he would ponder if it was normal. guilt was the typical consequence he dealt with and often confided in his mentors about it. conversed with them by using his large, expressive eyes and knitted brows. and when they hummed that his emotions were valid, well, it was like putting a soothing balm over an injury. he was as good as new.

so it isn't surprising when his nose crinkles at the abominable sight before him. he leaves for a minute, literally, to pick up the syrupy milkshake the two of you ordered beforehand. it's filled with candied toppings, a concoction that made your mouth drop in awe and caused him to immediately buy it to make you happy. and there's a bounce in his step when he waltzes over to your table. he's in pure bliss. just euphoric due to the fact that the both of you could spend the day together and it's been a dream come true. he'd taken you to the bowling alley, gotten some impressive strikes, and even snuck in a couple affectionate kisses. it's the equivalent of the cheesy romcoms that he watches when he misses you.

until it isn't.

because there's a guy chatting you up in yuuji's absence and okay, yuuji takes a deep breath and reasons that it's not a crime to talk to you while he's away. but cut him some slack, y'know. he almost feels bad when you catch his stare and a wave of relief washes over your features. emphasis on almost, however. his mouth twitches in response, plastering on a half-smile as he gets closer, until he has the misfortune of hearing what the stranger was adamantly uttering to you.

"you don't have to be coy, 'course you're dressing like that to get attention," the guy pointedly gestures to your outfit with a smirk, "you got mine, for sure."

and yuuji sees red. an intense burst of emotion that licks up into flames of animosity that drive him to the brink. it's instantaneous. scarily so, when yuuji's calloused hand seizes the stranger's before he can sleazily reach to pet at your clothes. because how dare this stranger feel the need to say that. yuuji recognizes the telltale sign of your brows drawing together, your self-confidence diminishing the more this situation goes on. so he snaps.

"what'd you just say to my girl, asshole?"

he doesn't even recognize the gruff, harsh voice that leaves his chapped lips. there's a huff of alarm from the sheer power of his grip on the stranger's wrist and you swear you hear an unnerving crack. you let out a distressed gasp. the blushy haired male doesn't verbalize the same sentiment, though. just blankly stares up through his brows, an ominous and haunting intent in his actions. and yuuji's a completely different person now. you note a muscle in his jaw that twitches. gone is your sweet, doting boyfriend. he's placed by a man with innate concentration and murderous intent to protect your honor– to defend you. the contrast is startling.

"she can wear whatever she wants, whenever she wants," yuuji moves to grasp onto the front of the stranger's shirt and forewarns him with a couple shakes, each word emphasized with the movement, "'cause she's with me."

and the blushy haired male rattles the other grown man like he was nothing. just a speck of dust that happened to get in yuuji's way. a nuisance that he'll willingly dispose of. naturally, the stranger is reduced to trembling and cowering in fear. the sleeves of yuuji's sweater are rolled up to showcase his solid forearms and rippling veins that are only more apparent in how tense he is. hysterical excuses leave the other male's mouth; mentions of who- or rather what- you were dating. how this wasn't right-minded or moral for him to be acting this way. this was just supposed to be a light-hearted 'joke.' but yuuji's not interested in listening. he casts a rather neutral glance to him, the kind where his brows drop in conviction. locked onto his prey and stopping any means of escape. his golden eyes are as sharp as daggers. a manifestation of the stranger's night terrors and much more. there's hostility evident in how yuuji shoves him to get lost and, as quick as the stranger appeared, he vanishes.

and after the whole ordeal, yuuji's busy scratching the back of his neck. the image of modesty and faultlessness being captured by how he tilts his head to the side while he watches the stranger retreat.

he even has the audacity to mumble an innocent, "gee. what was that guy's deal?" like the pink-haired male wasn't just playing violent mind games with him or how he wasn't just the sole embodiment of the harbinger of hell itself. all as an effort to protect you.

-

-

-

you wholeheartedly believe that your new neighbor has more than 24 hours in a day. 

the incessant noise is an indicator of that. blaring music, doors slamming at odd times, and the animated buzzing of the television during the neighborhood’s quiet hours all filter through your apartment’s worn walls. wails of a melodramatic actress haunted you in your sleep. initially, you chalked it up as a coping mechanism for your neighbor. perhaps she was going through a messy breakup and found comfort in rewatching the same movie series– several times, in fact– to help manage the heartache. you understand; it was a vulnerable type of growth that needed to be dealt with. however, it’s been the exact, aggravating routine for the past two weeks and it was driving you crazy. it had gotten so bad to the point where you were absentmindedly mumbling the corresponding dialogue whenever you were preoccupied with household chores. 

and you’ve never seen her, per se. you’re just assuming that your neighbor was a young woman that reminisced her college days by cranking up the speaker to the highest volume and bouncing around to the beat. deafening stomps to the carpeted floor. at least, that’s what you hear before a piece of furniture inevitably falls from the prancing and it goes dead silent. 

so imagine your surprise when a man steps into the elevator you’re wobbling into and rushes to press his designated floor number. it’s still relatively early. the sun is barely peeking out and the first flush of morning arises to allow the day to commence. yet, he’s panting as he trickles in behind you, squeezing himself through the metal doors before they can close and he’ll be forced to wait a couple minutes. 

“oh,” he utters while noting that you pushed the illuminated button to his apartment floor already, “thanks!” 

his voice is sleek and smooth. it’s cute, quite frankly. it rises in accordance with his gratitude, so much so that you’re intrigued to get a glance at this well-mannered stranger. and gosh— you’re not disappointed at all. 

he’s taller; not at a height that’s towering over you but it’s enough for you to take note of. it’s a fantastic change of pace from the elderly tenants that typically inhabit the building and your eyes eagerly roam to discover more about the male beside you. his hair is, remarkably, pink. a tone that matches the tinge of blush that glazes over his skin due to the sweat that he desperately tries to wipe off. he’s clad in gray workout shorts and a muscle tee, both of which accentuate his toned physique. your mouth literally drops as you openly stare at the cuts of raw, powerful muscle that glisten on his body from underneath the tacky fluorescent lights. 

and, immediately, embarrassment floods through you at the stark contrast behind the reasoning of why you’re up so early in the morning. overly sugary treats to begin your day served as your motivator. you just weren’t expecting to run into someone that started their day by exercising to the point that they looked like they belonged on the cover of calvin klein. it’s not one of your proudest moments.

slumping over in an attempt to conceal the pastry bag and sweet drink in your hand, you internally pray that this situation can pass quicker. save yourself from the embarrassment of it all. 

he seems to pick up on your uneasiness though because his brows raise in curiosity, “what’d you get?” 

and oh, calvin klein guy is talking to you.

“um, a latte and some breakfast pastry that the bakery sells. I go there pretty often,” you press your lips together before adding, “it’s the one right across the street. they open early.” 

you’re cringing as the words leave your lips because really– the words ‘pastry’ and ‘breakfast’ being together would never be in the male’s vocabulary. you assume that he’s judging you for your innate ability to overshare about your rather unhealthy eating habits. after all, he had just finished what you presumed was his daily workout. perhaps he’ll even dig low enough to make you feel terrible about it. educate you on the importance of having a balanced breakfast. you’ve been on enough dates with ‘gym bros’ to acknowledge that it’s a possibility and you don’t want to hear it. 

“oh really?” he ends up responding with a natural smile and it nearly blinds you, “I didn’t know! I might hafta check it out then. it looks really good!” 

“their strawberry cream cheese breakfast pastry is one of my favorites.” 

the suggestion tumbles out before you can think better of it but his smile only seems to brighten as he says in finality, “I’ll try that one then.” 

then, he whips out his phone to visibly take note of the specific pastry you told him only seconds ago. and, wow, this guy might just be a top contender for the world’s best apartment crush. you watch him out of the corner of your eye, captivated by his radiate energy. he pockets his phone once again, shoots you a grin of finality, and abruptly lifts the end of his shirt to wipe the remnants of sweat on his forehead. his eyes are wide, mortification expressed in his hurried actions and it takes some self-restraint to not giggle at his endearing expressions. 

“sorry I’m all gross, jus’ got done working out,” he explains like it wasn’t obvious, “promise I’m not normally this sweaty all the time.” 

you’re instantly drawn to him. he’s all sharp features but soft intentions. a phenomenon that you wish to unravel if he’d allow you to. he lets out a sheepish laugh, the melodic sound cutting through the awkward elevator silence, and you’re giggling in earnest soon after. 

“it wouldn’t be so bad if you were, though.”

you bite your lip. the statement is a tiny bit bolder than you were expecting but his bashful expression says it all. he’s keen on the attention. his brows raise in mild surprise but the tips of his ears tinge red. not one to actively go searching for it but finds pleasure in it if you’re willing to hand it out. 

the elevator dings and the doors slowly open to reveal your apartment floor’s hallway as he scrambles for words. though, you know you’ve made quite the impression when he follows behind your retreating figure. a flicker of warmth laps up at you, a sort of satisfaction sizzling within you at how he’s actively pursuing you and for the first time in a while you’re grateful for the good change in fortune. 

“well would you look at that,” the blushy haired male’s voice rings just as you move to unlock the door to your apartment, “we’re neighbors!” 

and your mouth drops. 

he’s your neighbor. the same one that’s been repeatedly keeping you awake during the night by dialing up the volume on every show he’s watching. or how you can audibly hear the thuds as he leaps around while playing some ear-splitting video game. or how, vaguely, you overhear the hissed scolding of another male’s voice from the opposite side of the wall that separates the two of you. it’s all been the calvin klein guy– not some heartbroken girl that’s stuck chasing after her crazy college years. 

“whatta crazy coincidence!” he adds, breaking your dawning realization, and grins as he sticks his own key into his apartment and turns it. 

but you find your voice before he can stroll through his entryway. you know that you should just say something and get it over with. voice your frustrations of ending up with the misfortune of having a rather boisterous next-door neighbor while you strived to achieve the most stress-free life. the desire to have a fresh start was unattainable at this rate. give him a piece of your mind for further ruining your– already– messed up sleep schedule. 

“wait! um,” you clear your throat and try to quell the anger that grabs hold of you, “the walls are super thin and I can hear whenever you’re blasting your music or watching tv, ya know. could you try to keep it down, please?” 

and why is your voice dying down at the end of it? the heated exchange you’ve been reciting in your mind is reduced to a polite inquiry. a sort of ‘hey it’d be really nice if you could do this for my well-being but it’s alright if you can’t!’ type of barter. inwardly, you kick at yourself because the whole point of this is to give your neighbor a piece of the irritation you experience daily. yet, you bite your lip when he gives you that sweeping glance of his that makes you weak. the one where his gaze lingers on you with a curiosity that begs at him to be sedated. his widened eyes sparkle, a shade of honey that reminds you of butterscotch candy, as he understands your displeasure. 

“ah, I’m super sorry ‘bout that! I wasn’t sure how soundproof my room was since I just moved in and the loud music kinda helps me focus. but I’ll try to be quieter,” the apology rushes out of him as he tilts his head to the side, “hope you didn’t lose any sleep ‘cause of me. it’d kill me if that happened.” 

this isn’t going in the direction you thought it would’ve. at most, you expected to perhaps throw some hands or at least anticipated an angry dispute to erupt based on your confrontation. yet, the blushy haired male treats this like it’s a mere misunderstanding that he’ll resolve if you just give him the word. he’ll listen. just tell him what to do and he’ll do it without any qualms. you’re left starstruck, lips agape, and utterly embarrassed by this whole ordeal. here you were attempting to make the most out of some noise when all he was doing was naively enjoying his free time. he stands unmovingly, attempting to decipher the endless range of emotions that you display throughout the whole ordeal. you feel the heat creeping up onto your neck, desperate to immediately flee from the situation, and push open the door to your apartment. 

“no, no, no, I sleep fine. just,”  you call out behind your shoulder and abruptly shut the door behind you, “try not to do it again, thanks!” 

— 

“oh!”

you were expecting the sight of bright eyes and blushy hair, with an instinctual grin that lifts like he’s looking forward to seeing you. what you weren’t anticipating, however, is the tuft of coal black hair and passive expression that greets you in the entryway of yuuji’s apartment. the stranger gives you a once over, not inappropriate by any means, but more along the lines of legitimate curiosity for your sudden visit. 

“sorry, I thought,” you pause to recheck the apartment again and stutter through your justification, “I must’ve had the wrong apartment. I thought someone else lived here.” 

he’s quiet at first, seemingly trying to gather the words he wishes to say before he can think better of it, “is it a guy that’s obnoxiously loud?” 

“um–”

“with pink hair?” 

“yes, exactly!” 

your eyes light up at your neighbor’s description, the image of him basically ingrained into your mind. with his considerate eyes and kind demeanor despite your one-sided bitterness towards the person that disturbed your peace. your encounter with the blushy haired male has been occupying your thoughts for the last couple of days so it’s no wonder you decided to show up and apologize. equipped with a box of takeout and a meek smile, this proved to be your attempt at atoning for your previous run in with him.

the pure delight in your voice causes the dark haired male to be taken aback. he doesn’t recently recall yuuji gushing about meeting some girl. rather, megumi wasn’t expecting him to withhold such information since he had the tendency to overshare about everything. the latest restaurants opening up, upcoming movies, or newly released comics– the blushy haired male was continuously spouting about it. but yuuji had that magnetism about him that attracted anyone and everyone. so who was he to infer the relationship between the two of you? it wasn’t his business. he knows someone that might’ve wished to know, though. 

it’s a bit awkward due to the silence that follows as you shift on your feet. it was a bit difficult to read the man in front of you. the contrast between him and his blushy haired friend was too great. his neutral expression gave you almost nothing to consider and you felt the nervousness creep up on you. this rendezvous proved to be more than you anticipated. heat trickles behind your neck as megumi pulls out his phone to type a quick text before pocketing it again and stepping aside. 

“you can wait inside,” he says with finality while angling his slim body so you can pass through the entryway, “he’ll be here soon. he’s just running some errands.” 

“thank you!” 

and the apartment is a lot cleaner than you imagined. there’s a couple of misplaced hoodies and comic books that are left out on the living room table but it’s fitting. then again, it’d been a while since you were invited into a guy’s place. especially one that occupies your mind so frequently.

before you can chicken out, you gesture to the bags in your hands, “oh! I brought over some food, by the way. a peace offering of some sort.” 

megumi’s dark eyes flick over to the contents in the bag and realize just how much you’ve been carrying this entire time. plastic containers are filled to the brim with an assortment of perfectly placed sushi. it looks delicious but the sheer amount would almost be comical if megumi wasn’t aware of how much his friend could consume. the bags’ handles you’re gripping onto are thoroughly stretched, as though the weight of the food was unexpectedly dense and he doesn’t bother masking how his eyes widen. you brought a lot. 

“you can help yourself too! I wasn’t sure if he was allergic to anything so I got a bunch. maybe too much,” your voice lowers during your rambling to hide your embarrassment. 

“thanks.”

it’s a seemingly simple word of gratitude yet it’s genuine. you note that his voice has considerably softened since he first spoke to you. like his tone is soothed from its typical bluntness and he’s putting in an effort to be considerate. he strikes you as the type to believe actions rather than words. it’s intriguing. he’s put a comfortable amount of distance between the two of you but now he strides towards you and despite your protests, he moves to take the bags from your grasp to place them on the counter in order to ease the burden. somewhere along the way introductions are shared and the two of you take part in lighthearted conversation. it’s initially clumsy with your habit of oversharing and megumi’s short responses but soon you both find a delicate balance that feels nice. 

it’s a start. 

and it’s the scene that yuuji doesn’t have the chance to see as he stumbles through the door of his apartment. he heaves, clearly a sign that he rushed here, and haphazardly closes the door with the back of his heel as he strolls in. he’s all swift energy and hectic movement– exactly like he always is. 

“brought in the newspaper! if you even wanna read that junk later,” he distractedly calls out while placing a grocery bag onto the counter and vaguely catches a glimpse of the food you brought, “wow look at all this food! I thought you didn’t get paid until the end of the week, fushiguro–”

“did you even read my text, idiot?” 

“what! you met my neighbor? why didn’t you tell me earlier?” 

yuuji, now coming out of his room, has his phone clutched in his hand and he quickly unlocks it. a gasp leaves his lips once he reads his friend’s message. the way his eyes speedily trek along the screen is laughable and it causes megumi to click his tongue in annoyance. then, yuuji peers over at megumi to give him overly exaggerated, gaping eyes and a pout. it’s quite the spectacle, really. megumi’s already used to this, however, and he continues to relax on the living room couch. 

the dark haired male presses an exasperated hand against his face and mutters, “what’s the point of having a phone if you just forget it half the time.”

“so,” yuuji carries the conversation and prompts his friend to go on, “what did she say? did she ask about me? why’d she leave so quickly? don’t tell me you scared her off, fushiguro!” 

there’s a plate of unfinished sushi in front of megumi and he pokes at it as he ponders about his friend’s sudden interest in your departure. it’s unprecedented, new– how yuuji’s gaze immediately flicks over to the door like he’s debating on if he should see you. pay you a short visit. tell you how grateful he is that you visited and he’s sorry that he wasn’t home to greet you. he was so easy to read. 

“she said that she’s sorry for blowing up on you that one time,” megumi recalls as he brings a slab of ginger to his mouth, “said the food was to apologize.” 

“aw man, that was totally my fault though!” 

“I know but still, you should eat the food before it goes bad. she did bring it for you after all.” 

humming in agreement, yuuji grabs a pair of chopsticks, chooses a variety of different sushi pieces, and makes himself a plate. he takes a seat beside megumi, a tendency that was bound to be a custom at this point. the duo had a history of crashing at each other’s place ever since they were younger. it was an attempt to bring a sense of normalcy in their hectic lives. they engage in the usual small talk; with yuuji expressing his utter delight every time he shoves a piece of sushi in his mouth and megumi responding with stoic comments. all is well. though, the dark haired male perceives that there’s something off. there’s a light furrow in yuuji’s brow, an indication that he’s troubled and ruminating. 

so by the time yuuji’s done eating, megumi addresses the other male’s concerns with a terse frown, “well? are you going to see her or are you just gonna sit here wallowing in your own self-pity?” 

-

“jus’ noticed that I never got your name!” 

your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. not once were you expecting your neighbor to be at your door at eventide– especially since you were just at his place earlier in the day. in fact, you had rubbed off all the extra makeup and glitz after you finished delivering the takeout to megumi. he seemed trustworthy enough to relay your message so you didn’t think your neighbor would amble over to speak with you, much less with a pretty bouquet of flowers in his hand. 

he grins, anticipating your shock, and adds, “asked around the apartment complex for your name ‘cuz I wanted to write you a card but everyone just looked at me like I was crazy! like, I didn’t have much to go off of except what you look like!” 

and you consider the possibility that he looks even better in casual clothes. maybe it’s the way every article of clothing he owns fits him perfectly; broad and muscular shoulders tapering inward to emphasize his narrow waist. or, it’s a long stretch, but perhaps you’re just hyper vigilant of him whenever he’s close. wearing a plain shirt tucked into loose pants, he’s as breathtaking as you remember and you do your best to calm the wave of butterflies in your stomach. 

you instinctively bring a hand to cover your bareface as you give him your name. a smile tugs at his lips. shifting the bouquet of flowers underneath one arm, he pulls out a tiny, decorated card and a pen from his pocket. he rhetorically says your name, lets it marinate on his tongue, while writing it and slipping the card in the center of the bouquet. 

“awesome. this is for you,” he hands you the flowers before bashfully rubbing the back of his neck, “fushiguro told me you stopped by earlier and dropped off all that food. ‘m sorry I wasn’t there to see but thank you, really.” 

you press your lips together, aware that this is your chance to right your wrongs and stumble on your words, “oh! you didn’t need to. I was rude and complaining about something small so I just wanted to do that for you–” 

“and,” he meets your eyes as he confesses, “I wanted to see you again.”

his words go straight through your heart. distinctly, you feel the gentle caress of his long fingers against the back of your hand as he slips the bouquet into your arms and his touch is dizzying. you might just melt. liquify into a pile of mush due to his sweet actions. doesn’t help that he’s gazing at you like you string up each individual star in the times of twilight. his eyes roam the entirety of your face. memorizing every pretty freckle and curve now since he’s close. 

“guess it also helps that my neighbor is really pretty,” he whispers, like the compliment is punched out of him and laid out for you to delve in. 

from there on, his focus drops to the pink of your lips. then to the glimmer of your skin that peeks beneath your homey clothes. almost outwardly sighs at the sight before him. like he wants you–thoughtlessly, selfishly, and desperately. the only way he knows how to show he cares. lodges himself deep within the depths of your soul. lets himself in due to his benevolence and warmth. 

then, he pulls away and blinks himself out of the stupor that was induced by you. there’s a sheepish smile on his face like he’s aware he’d been caught. a dust of red splattering on the tips of his ears. but to which he was at fault for; staring too intently or letting his blossoming feelings show– who really knows? 

yuuji steps back to take his leave before it can get too dark out, “glad we both got what we wanted at the end. I'll see ya later!” 

and with that, he waves you a farewell while you’re gripping onto the bouquet of flowers he gifted you. you’re a hot, flustered mess from your encounter with your neighbor. heart racing and thrumming against your chest. but you guess your apology successfully worked. your next step is to find a nice vase. and as you mosey through your apartment with a little extra bounce in your step, you trim the stems and set the flowers to be displayed in your living room. it’s been a while since a man has ever given you flowers. it’s nice. brightens the place up. a huff of content passes your lips. and yes, you do manage to get his name because tucked at the bottom of the card is his full name– followed by a small, scrawled heart. 

-

the next couple days roll into weeks of giddy, mushy happiness that’s unparalleled to anything you’ve ever experienced. he makes an effort to see you almost every other day. stands in front of your door with a bright grin plastered on his face while the both of you catch up. and you share a little bit of your life and schedule so he’s informed on the most convenient time you’ll be home. and it stuns you that yuuji’s naturally this warmhearted. he’s characteristically a provider and giver. finds reason in being the one that lets you have peace of mind. he signs off on your packages when you’re not home, carries your heavy groceries if the elevators are broken, and keeps you company during your midnight snack runs. always inquisitive of your feelings and thoughts. and it’s not just you that he treats kindly (and sure what he does for you borders the invisible line of being more than neighbors). but he’s just inherently courteous. he helps stray animals cross the busy intersection in front of the apartment, moves the massive potted plants for the elderly tenants, and even goes out of his way to greet every individual person in the mornings. yuuji is too good to be true. 

so it’s no wonder you overhear him conversing with a girl. 

it was completely unintentional– initially. you were in the process of slipping on your shoes to go on your usual bakery run. the typical sweet treat that kept you motivated and energized for the rest of the week. that is, until an overly raucous giggle startles you. you freeze at the unusual noise. it’s feminine. not the usual scoff and chuckle you typically overhear from megumi when he visits. the walls are so thin, courtesy of the rent being low, hence catching onto your neighbors’ conversations was pretty easy. so who’s laughing that loud in the early morning and why was it coming from yuuji’s side of the wall? 

checking wasn’t necessarily a crime. and you know it’s wrong but your logic is swayed when yuuji’s own laughter follows. your eye twitches. the sound was bittersweet now. your hands tighten into fists as your breathing quickens and you realize that having the freedom of becoming attached to someone comes with some risks. 

letting your feet lead you closer, you’re perched next to the wall connecting your apartment with his and you hesitantly press your ear against the painted surface. 

“where to, miss?” 

that’s yuuji’s voice. you recognize it from anywhere because it’s perfect– honeyed and sincere– or at least, that’s what you were bewitched with. it wasn’t the exact emotion you conjured up now though. you stood there, dazed beyond comprehension. confused about the relationship you shared with him. you assumed it was mutual; well, a fondness that came in the form of watching him tip his head back in laughter as you artlessly sing your favorite song to him. or how, when the two of you lounge on your couch, you’re both sharing hopes about the future until the sun rises. most importantly, you were hurt. utterly devastated by the accidental secret you’ve uncovered. did it mean nothing to him? you feel your throat close up. can feel the beginnings of frustration arise and your hand moves to clutch at your heart. you needed an explanation; a clarification for the way he’s been treating you. you didn’t want your one chance of happiness to vanish. 

storming to his door, you give it a firm knock before impatiently shifting on your feet, “it’s me.”

you don’t expect him to answer, to be fair. he could choose to ignore your knock, shrug it off and give the run-of-the-mill excuse to the girl he was seeing. or there’d be a beat of silence as he desperately shoves the girl out of sight before he answers the door like those cliche rom-coms that boast high praise due to the drama. and a part of you knows that yuuji’s not like that– he’s sweet, charming, and undeniably considerate– but you don’t know what to believe. you’re a hot mess that’s destined to explode. 

so it catches you off-guard when the door immediately swings open. 

you stand steadfast, however, “yuuji, we need to talk–”

but the outburst dies on your lips. you’re gaping at the sight that you’re greeted with. megumi’s the one that opens the door for you. his dark eyes flick over to you once and he pulls the door back further to reveal where the commotion was coming from. almost like he understands why you’ve shown up. then, he clasps his hands over his ears to block out the deafening volume of the television and yuuji’s incessant reciting.

there’s a sneer plastered on megumi’s face as he turns to the pink-haired male, “I told you to knock it off before she got the wrong idea.” 

and at the mention of ‘she,’ yuuji freezes. he’s perched atop their rickety couch, teetering on the edge, and holding the end of a hairbrush to his mouth like it’s a microphone. there’s no other girl. he’s not flirting with anyone. the television’s on, playing an iconic movie scene as he passionately narrates the actor’s lines in time with the script. it’s entertaining. amusing. and under different circumstances you’d fall into a fit of laughter but once he meets your eyes, yuuji pauses. 

“crap,” he drops the hairbrush and hastily scrambles to the remote to flick the television off, “‘m sorry was I being too loud–” 

yuuji rushes to greet you. his feet steadily thump against the wooden floors as he hastens his steps. his subconscious leads him to you, always. like he can’t help but come to you despite everything. there’s an abashed grin on his face and the tips are his ears are tinged red from being caught. yet, he’s clearly delighted to see you at his door. 

and the guilt automatically hits you. 

“n-no! I mean, uh,” you focus your attention to the floor as you shake your head, “that’s not why I came here. I thought– oh my gosh– I feel horrible now.” 

tilting his head in confusion, yuuji patiently waits through your sputtering in an attempt to understand what you’re saying. you’re distraught. seeking a sound enough reason on your sudden arrival. you’re flustered, tongue-tied, because now that you’ve seen what you heard earlier, it all makes perfect sense. your ability to jump to conclusions was astounding and the bane of your existence. heat radiates from your cheeks as you clam up. 

there’s a heavy sigh. 

“I’ll be taking my leave now. I don’t feel like third-wheeling today,” megumi explains while stepping past you, “counting on you two to work it out.” 

before the dark haired male leaves he lifts his hand to good-naturedly pat your head. it’s foreign and as if he realizes this, megumi simply shrugs. then, he murmurs his own blunt, twisted encouragement and leaves the both of you alone. 

it’s silent. 

but then yuuji gently leads you inside his apartment. hums that it’ll be better to talk with no interruptions. you let him guide you into the place that you frequent rather often recently, welcoming the press of his fingers against your waist and how his touch instantly brings warmth. he sits you in the middle of the couch, chuckling when you inadvertently sink into the cushions. but he abruptly stops once he detects your regretful expression. the way the corners of your lips are downturned and how you refuse to look at him. an arrow pierces at his heart. 

leaning to place his hands on your shoulders, he carefully mentions, “you wanted to talk?” 

he keeps his voice light, mindful and it’s his gentleness that breaks you. his bright eyes are trained on your face to decipher what’s been bothering you. doesn’t like seeing you so distressed. he’s already grasping for a solution without even knowing the problem. he’s so good to you. 

and when his thumb soothingly caresses against the side of your neck, you wring your hands as you try to explain, “I know I shouldn’t have been eavesdropping but I overheard you speaking to someone. a girl. so I thought–”

you break off to press your lips together in embarrassment. there’s a flash of realization on his sharp features, like he finally acknowledges the misunderstanding. the issue that’s driven you to the point of showing up to his door and staring up at him with wistful eyes. causing his will to break into pieces that you’re destined to pick up and glue back together. then, before you can blink, he’s dropping to his knees and grasping onto your hands. his knitted brows relax as he exhales your name in hushed relief. and it’s a sight of pure reverence. reassurance to the very aspect of your being. you’ve appeased his worries so he’ll make it right; it’s a promise. 

“that was all my fault, I was being stupid and messing around. I’m sorry for making you worried,” yuuji clarifies in a single breath, “I want you to know one thing, though.” 

bringing your hand to his lips, he presses a tender kiss in the space between your knuckles and looks up at you, “I’m serious about this– about you.” 

the octave in his voice drops at the end of his confession, bordering a hoarse whisper meant only for you. a rawness to his sudden seriousness. a reason for his countless efforts. and there’s only so much he’s allowed you to be aware of with his growing feelings. like how he thinks of you right as the sun rises. right when the brilliant hues are flourishing as the day begins to take over. or how he imagines you as the love interest in every romance movie. or how the days become brighter when you’re around. you bring significance into his life.

and he admits that he’s new to these all-consuming feelings. his mind morphs into oblivion and his mouth turns into the equivalent of fuzz. simply due to your sweet smile. it takes all his willpower not to reach out for you when you’re near. his fingers tremble in need to hold and cherish you. he’s utterly whipped. so one thing is for certain– when he thinks of you, there’s a lightness that engulfs his world.

“yuu.”

yuuji’s broken out of his trance when you sweep a gentle hand through his blushy hair. the sentiment is unmistakable now. his act of kneeling in front of you proves his resolve and sincerity. uttering his name is the closest aspect of him being yours. your sweet neighbor. he lets out a content hum and your glossy lips curve into a smile at his reaction. forever fascinated by his undying need to adore you. he sees his whole world beaming back at him. and in that moment, yuuji was convinced that his sole purpose was to bring you happiness. this was the prospect of his adoration. a regard to his devotion towards you. pretty eyes half-lidded, he peers up at you and knowingly tilts his head.