justvanishingthings

He followed the sensation and instantly met your line of sight. Sweet, kind you. Akashi swore you were incapable of hurting even a fly but with the dark look in your eyes, he understood why Aomine made it a habit to never get on your bad side. Your lips were turned downward in a pout that would make him melt if it weren’t for the tension in your shoulders, your fingers gripping into your own flesh as if it could stop whatever whirlwind you were currently feeling.

And suddenly he felt too hot. The woman in front of him, the one he had been laughing with because he had seen her as an asset to finalize a deal that had been costing him nerves for the last few days, the finishing line to put an end to the late nights and finally making it home again before the dinner had gone cold and you were already in bed, had a hand on his arm, squeezed it even when she saw his change in demeanor. From his position, he was just using her to win the game. From your position, it must’ve looked like betrayal.

Your eyes met his for a brief moment and the hurt in them was enough to plummet his heart to the floor and steal his breath. Before he had a chance to move towards you, you had already turned on your heel, heading straight to the balcony.

Akashi followed immediately, only murmuring an “excuse me” out of obligation. The cold evening air greeted him, too cold for you to be out here in your beautiful but thin dress and he shrugged out of his suit jacket so he could put it over your shoulder. The moment the fabric touched your skin, you flinched, actually flinched, and turned to him with cold, hard eyes.

“My darling-” he started but you interrupted him.

“What are you doing here?” He could practically hear how your brain was arming itself and pulling up the walls that had no business being up in his presence.

He steeled himself, swallowed the sigh. “You can’t expect me to entertain guests when you’re clearly disturbed.”

Your expression opened to let him see the incredulity at his choice of words.

“Disturbed, huh?” - “Upset, dear.” You spoke nearly simultaneously.

Akashi added, “You know, I see no wrong in you. Never have. Never will.”

A brief pause and then, “Why?”

With how small your voice sounded, as if he was presenting an illogical fact, it would’ve been less painful if you had just slapped him.

“You looked good together. Proper. She would’ve had your father’s blessing.”

Unlike me

He took your hands, placed them both over his chest where you could feel his heartbeat, steady and certain.

“Proper, yes. But not honest. My father hardly ever saw eye to eye and I’m certain whatever woman he would’ve appreciated, would’ve also ruined me. No disrespect to her but I’m positive, my eyes would’ve had no chance to stay one color.”

He felt you grip his shirt. Tightly. The usual reaction when he mentions his other side to you, and the implication behind it. He clarified it anyway.

“You’re the only one who helps me stay me. You’re the one he listens to you. You’re the only peace I have ever known. So please, my dear, don’t let a woman with a too shrill laugh confuse you into me going anywhere.”

One of his hands moved to your cheek, brushing over the sensitive skin. “I’m exactly where I want to be. Nothing you or your brain can do will ever change that. Okay?”

You swallowed hard, taking a breath to calm yourself. “I’m sorry”

“None of that. I’d much rather you show when you’re displeased with me than hide it.”

A wet laugh escaped you, “I wasn’t displeased with you per se.”

“You looked like you wanted to cut my arm off.”

“Not yours. Hers,” your voice dripped with jealousy,

“Easy darling. I need her so I can finish that damn deal,” he said, pulling you closer.

“I know. But if she does anything, I won’t guarantee for anything”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, dear.”

The signs were there. If Atsushi was honest with himself he had noticed it before they became these glaring red flags. You had been having a stressful week: colleagues who would nitpick things that had never been a problem, your boss yelling at you for things that weren’t your fault, you just happened to be the easiest target for his anger. He noticed the drag when you’d wake up in the morning, the quiet hesitation when you’d sit on the edge of the bed, face in your hands and just...wait. Minutes passing until you’d get up with a sight to get ready for the day. Quietly. Always so quietly as if your nervous system had forgotten that you could be safe in your own home.

He had waited. Sometimes it would pass on its own. The mood at work would change or you’d take your time to regulate on your own.

Then came the bags. Several. Every time he’d see you, you had a new something in your hands - pretty, shiny, price tag still on. If he looked too long, you’d snap.

“You’re gonna criticize me too?”

In the earlier stages of your relationship, Atsushi had taken the bait each time, snapped back, fought with you until he couldn’t remember what it was even about. But what he could remember was how it had destroyed you, how sure you were he would leave, all because he had allowed your brain to win. And if being silent was what he needed to do to not put oil in the fire, that’s what he’d do. That’s what loving you meant.

So that’s what he did. Just held your gaze you.

“I love you”

Your face fell. He could see the exact moment your brain refused to compute. Your mouth hung open for a moment, before you got up, rushed to the bedroom and slammed the door.

The final straw came when he had been in the car with you, your foot on the gas, pushing the needle higher than necessary. Bordering on reckless.

Atsushi called your name. You didn’t look.

“Slow down.”

He called it again and you glanced over for just a moment. But a moment was all he needed to see it. That flash in your eyes that showed him this wasn’t just stress, it wasn’t just coping. You were spiraling and losing the battle against your brain to not hurt yourself.

“Stop the car.”

You opened your mouth to protest but stopped when you saw the seriousness in his face.

“Now.”

You followed his word. Pulled over and unbuckled your belt when you saw him do the same. He opened his door, crossed over to yours and pulled you out of your seat. The door shut, a little too loud with how tense he was.

“Atsu, what-?”

He held a small flacon in your face, cap already gone. You realized immediately what it was, the scent already bringing back the edges of a positive memory despite your brain’s darkness.

“I don’t need that.”

Atsushi scoffed, “Yeah, you do. You’re doing it again, sweetie. Smell it or I do it for you.”

You rolled your eyes, ready to call his bluff and as soon as he saw, his hand gripped your chin, fingers curling and pressing into your cheeks. He pulled your face closer, flacon now right under your nose.

“Deep breaths”

You struggled for a moment, realized he wouldn’t budge an inch and did as he said. The scent was sweet, floral and you were immediately back in the memory. Gone was your brain’s incessant screaming for deserved pain and all you could see before your inner eye was Atsushi’s proud gaze when he saw you the first time on your wedding day, the smile on his lips when you were finally legally his.

When you opened your eyes again, you felt calmer. The screaming not gone but severely muted now.

“Better?”

“I hate that a fucking scent works,” you grumbled and felt Atsushi exhale as the tension dropped from his body. He pinched your cheeks, faux annoyance on his features that couldn’t hide the relieved smile.

“You talk to me next time, it happens, understood?”

“I’ll try”

“Good. Now, let’s after all that, I want some maibo.”

You laughed, the first real one in days. He might’ve gotten older but thankfully some things never change.