dove

Whenever you see Atsumu, your heart races in a way it never has before. It’s something you never felt with Ren, even during the times when he was your Prince Charming. Bright lights shine with Ren, but with Atsumu, it feels as if the whole damn sun burns for you two.

And the next time that you see Atsumu, it’s in the library. He’s sat somewhere in a corner with his eyes intently focused on a large textbook. Your steps are slow as you approach him, some part of you convincing yourself that he would much rather be alone than be in your presence. But before you can make your grand escape, Atsumu spots you and his eyes light up in an unimaginable way.

He’s quick to call your name, patting the seat next to him.

“Hi, Atsumu,” you smile, and it’s a rare, beautiful sight.

“Hi. What are you here for?”

He kicks your shin when you don’t immediately respond. You giggle. (He’ll never tell you, but that sweet sound is all that he longs for). You kick him back. 

“I have a bio test in a week. Ren told me to come here and study.”

Something in his heart twists at the mention of your boyfriend. He remembers the commanding tone he always uses on you and how you’re always so quick to listen to his every word. He wishes he could change that. Somehow put it in your mind that you can do anything you want, even if you may not know it yourself.

“Told you?”

“Yeah?” Your voice cracks slightly, “his friends are coming over and he said he didn’t want me to embarrass him so he told me I can go.”

His blood boils and he sees red. You know that none of your friends are very fond of your boyfriend, but leaving him is much harder when each hit to your heart is paired with a sweet kiss.

“You know what I’m gonna say, sweetheart–”

“I know, Atsumu. I don’t want to be mean or anything, but I don’t need to hear it right now.”

He can see you put your head down in your books as your lip quivers. He hates how your hands shake as you reach into your bag. He hates how he makes you feel.

“Hey,” he places a rough hand on yours, “it’s okay.”

You nod but still refuse to look him in the eye. You wish you were stronger. Strong enough to leave the man that brings tears to your eyes and run to the one who leaves your heart bursting at every beat. You wish you didn’t spend every waking second embarrassed at everything you’ve ever done.

“I think I’ll just go.”

Atsumu is left confused as he watches you pack up the little things you brought. Ten minutes had barely passed since you arrived and he’d never want to do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.

“Hey,” he gently grabs your hand. “Let me take you somewhere.”

Words fall short and there’s no hesitation present in your actions. He takes this as his cue to lock his hand with yours, and you feel warm inside. The rough pads of his thumbs rub soothing circles on your skin. You tremble. Of fear, lingering anger, or love–you’re not quite sure.

- 

Atsumu has a few methods of making you happier.

The first one, easy and simple, is physical affection. He knows you crave a gentle touch more than anyone he’s ever known. A kiss on the forehead (that definitely crosses some boundaries), a sweet hug that leaves his teeth rotting, or his personal favorite, walking down the streets with his hand in yours.

They’re all far too touchy for the “friend” category and your boyfriend would most definitely flip if he knew what Atsumu was doing, but he can’t find it in himself to care. Not when he sees your shoulders relax each time his skin is on yours.

The second and most effective method is food. He always found a way to buy himself into your heart, whether it's ingredients he purchases to cook you something good or if it’s a small treat. Today, he decides that ice cream will be his method of manipulation.

“Hey,” he speaks up. You’re sat together at an old park bench, face still down from your conversation earlier. “It’s okay.”

He slithers his way into your heart by slowly laying your head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” You’re so quick to say sorry. So quick to apologize even when there’s no need to.

“Don’t say sorry.” His words earn a small giggle from you, a sound that makes him forget all the pain in his heart. “What’s so funny?”

“You’re so different from him,” you smile to yourself. “Ren never takes me out anymore. He tells me that I need to stop eating so much. But you don’t do that. I don’t think you ever could.”

Before he can respond, he feels a cold sensation on his nose and sees a glint in your eyes. You look up at him with a giddy smile and he knows you’re okay. Somehow, someway, he always finds a way to make you okay again. And even though his skin warms in anger, you calm him down.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” is all he says, before rubbing the ice cream off his nose and wiping it on you.

“You’ve gone soft on me, Atsumu,” you say and his name sounds like an angel’s choir on your tongue. “A year ago you would’ve thrown your cone at my face.”

At your words, he drops his cone on the park’s green grass and lunges at you. His fingers make contact with your sides and he’s soon tickling you till you’re screaming and kicking him all over.

“Sorry!” Your voice cracks, “I’ll never do it again!” 

He relents at your endless pleas but regrets his every decision when he sees how beautiful you look under him. His breathing is uneven and so is yours, and he can’t stop himself from looking at your chest as it moves up and down.

“Atsumu?” You question.

“Yeah?”

“I really like being with you.”

He sucks in a breath, “Me too.”

Ten seconds pass.

“Atsumu?”

“Yeah?”

“I want to kiss you.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. But I have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, “you do.”

He stares at you for what feels like hours until he decides to lean in. He closes his eyes the second your lips are on his, and he feels every part of him melt into you. The kiss is not desperate or hungry, but soft and sweet. He gently lifts you off the bench and onto his lap and his hold on you is so kind. He pulls you further into him and passion explodes on both your tongues.

And as Atsumu holds you on this beat-down park bench kissing you so softly, he realizes that he is in love with you.

It’s been two weeks since you last talked to Atsumu.

He’s tried approaching you, doing anything to get you to look at him again, but you just won’t give up. You’re quiet. Shy. Nervous in an almost unsettling way. Your words are slow and perfectly articulated, sentences curated robotically. Atsumu doesn’t like it.

Whenever he is tasked with the battle that is speaking to you, he feels as if worms are crawling inside his stomach. There are no butterflies or flutters, just slimy, green worms that consume him whole.

He doesn’t know what makes him feel this way. He’s perfectly in tune with his emotions and what he wants, but when it comes to you, his heart loses the connection that it has with the rest of his body and begins to burst.

He knows he loves you.

He knows that you have a boyfriend. A boyfriend that is overprotective in a way that is also unsettling.

He also knows it’s none of his business. He also knows that he’s naïve for falling for someone with a clear dedication to their partner.

He’s stupid. But as stupid as he may be, Miya Atsumu has never been one to deny himself what he wants. He may never be yours, but he knows he could treat you better than anyone else could. Maybe he’s made for you. Or maybe he wants to understand you in a way nobody ever has before.

And as he watches you from across this crowded room, he knows that all you need is a friend.

“Hi,” he says, and you nearly jump ten feet into the air.

A part of him expected your jumpy behavior—you move through life with fear and caution—but a gentle hand on your shoulder is enough to calm you down.

“Oh, hi. Atsumu. Hi.”

The air is thick. You’re awkward. So much so that sometimes Atsumu wonders if it would be better to leave you alone.

“Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing here all alone?”

“Oh, I’m, uh, not alone.”

You use your finger to point across the room to a man. A man with an arm around another woman. Atsumu smoothly turns his head to look at you, and he notices how your features twist in discomfort at the sight. 

“Oh,” he starts, “he’s an ass.” Is the only form of consolation that he can think of.

“Yeah,” you sigh. Your eyes are still glued to the sight in front of you and Atsumu wishes he could take you into his arms and make you forget about him.

“He dragged you to a frat party just to leave you alone the whole night?”

“He doesn’t mean to, I guess. He just has a lot more friends than I do.” You’re defending him. Atsumu knows that you don’t mean to, but it’s a habit that has cemented itself into your mind. He’s a sad excuse for a boyfriend that has turned you into someone that you are not.

“Come with me,” he softly whispers, a gentle hand placed on your wrist. The kindness is something so unfamiliar that you close your eyes and relish in the heaven he has provided you with.

“Okay,” is your answer.

Atsumu first drags you to the kitchen, grabbing a shit ton of cups that he knows could be put to better use. Next is an entire six-pack of beer (that one earns him a few protests from onlookers, but he still strides away with confidence), and lastly, a ping pong ball from one of his friends.

You’re not quite sure how he’s able to carry all those things while maintaining a hold on your hand, but you chose not to question him. Silence has always been your best friend.

You’re hit with a strong, cold gust of wind before you realize where you are. Somehow, in the midst of all your thought, he managed to drag you to the rooftop of your classmate's house.

“Oh. Atsumu, why are we outside?”

You like how his hand feels on your skin. He emanates a warmth that is foreign to you. No one has ever bothered to hold you with such care.

“Beer pong,” his beautiful boyish smirks peeks through.

“That doesn’t really explain anything.” You look up at him with your big, curious eyes and Atsumu nearly melts.

He sets the cups on the floor in the 1-3-5 triangular formation, dragging you to sit on the ground with him.

“My dress…” Another small mumble falls from your lips.

Atsumu turns to eye your beautiful white dress and his mind takes him to dangerous places. You got all dolled up for your asshole of a boyfriend, just for him to spend his whole time coddled up with another girl. If he was yours, his heart would be locked with yours and his eyes would be glued on you.

“Where are my manners?” A laugh falls from his lips and he’s quick to take off his jacket and lay it on the floor. “Your throne, sweetheart.”

“Are you sure? I’d feel bad,” there’s that usual apprehension present in your voice.

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have done it. Now sit.”

He pinches your cheek with a shy smile on his face. There’s something so welcoming about him. His heart, his generosity, or maybe it's the ever-present teasing tone of his voice. You’re not quite sure. All you know is that you like him. You like his presence.

-

You don’t really play much beer pong that night.

Somehow, you end up with your head on Atsumu’s shoulder and his hand tangled up in yours.

“I wish he’d listen to me,” you break the silence that surrounds you two.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh. I’m talking about Ren. I wish he’d listen to me sometimes.” Minutes pass before you get the courage to speak again. “He can be… really mean. And he doesn’t like you very much, Atsumu.”

He feels defensive. He knows he shouldn’t–you’re not his–but he doesn’t like hearing the pain etched in your voice. He squeezes your hand, one, two, three times, just to let you know that he’s there.

“I wish he was like you. You’re so sweet. And you listen to me a lot. You make me laugh and you remember my favorite things even though I don’t mention them very often.”

His chest hurts. Those evil, slimy worms crawl back up inside his stomach and he feels as if he’ll throw up. He wants to hold you. To kiss you and tell you that you deserve everything you want and more. But he knows he can’t. Maybe what you two are doing is wrong, but he knows you need him. You need a friend.

“I wish I met you first.”

An arrow pierces his heart.

It’s an endless cycle.

This time a month passes by before you talk to him again. 

He understands it. Kind of. Atsumu doesn’t want you to think that he’s pushing you into something new. He knows that you’ve spent your whole life scared of change. He’s patient (at least he wants to be).

He gets a call from you on a Thursday afternoon and nearly screams when he sees your caller ID. He doesn’t let the phone ring for longer than two seconds before he picks up your call.

(“Jesus Christ,” Suna lets out a loud, painful groan. “You’re fucking pathetic, Atsumu.”)

“Hello?”

“...Hi, Atsumu.”

It feels so good to hear his name on your tongue once again. “Hi. How are you?”

“I’m, uh, okay.” There’s a long pause where you relish in the sound of his voice. “I wanted to tell you that I broke up with Ren. Um, three weeks ago.”

He feels his heart drop. He’s lost the little sense he has when he’s around you.

“Would you like to come over?”

“Sure,” he sighs like he never has before. “I’ll be there in fifteen.”

-

He lies. He’s at your doorstep a little after the ten-minute mark.

A small knock is placed on your door. He’s not one to be scared—he’s lived his life confident in everything that he does—but today, genuine fear rests in his heart. He doesn’t know if he can take being away from you once again.

You open the door looking as beautiful as ever. “Hi.”

“Hi,” and he smiles.

You beckon him in and he’s quick to follow. He wants to hold you. To tackle you to your couch and tell you how much he loves you. But he can’t, at least not until you tell him he can.

You suddenly turn to face him with a fire lighting in your eyes. “I’m sorry if this is really forward, but Suna told me to stop being a pussy and to tell you what I feel.” You take a step closer to him. “I really, really like you, Atsumu. And I feel like I’ve spent the past few months stringing you along and never getting the courage to tell you what I really want, but now I can. I like you.”

You’re trembling. Shaking so much that Atsumu has to take your hands in his to calm you down.

“I’m really sorry for using you.”

“Using me?” He finds the strength to respond. His head is running a mile a minute and he wants nothing more than to tell you that he loves you. So much so that his feet feel like jelly whenever he looks at you. “I’ve always wanted you. Even more than you’ve ever wanted me.”

“You wouldn’t want to be with me.”

“Why?” He asks, his face slowly inching closer to yours.

“I’m a cheater.”

He chuckles. It’s loud, it’s beautiful, and it’s so him. Every part of you envies his ability to be so wholeheartedly himself.

“Not really a good argument when I was the main accomplice in your cheating.”

“Atsumu,” you rest your head against his chest and every part of him feels like home. His scent, his arms, his mind that controls his every thought. “You wouldn’t want me,” tears fall from your eyes and become one with his skin. “I’m damaged goods. I’m not enough for you. You’re so big and you can do so much without me by your side.”