Love-bug

Your dorm room was quiet.

Too quiet, honestly.

The soft hum of your desk lamp filled the space as you sat curled up on your bed, knees tucked to your chest, phone resting in your hands. You weren’t even really doing anything on it—just scrolling mindlessly, rereading old messages you shouldn’t be rereading.

His messages.

Your stomach twisted.

You hadn’t answered him all day.

Not because you didn’t want to.

But because you did.

Too much, maybe.

Every time his name lit up your screen, your chest tightened. You’d type something out, erase it, overthink it, panic, then lock your phone like that would somehow solve everything.y

It didn’t.

It just made things worse.

Your phone buzzed again.

You froze.

You already knew who it was.

Slowly, nervously, you looked down.

Sukuna: You alive?

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

You typed: yeah

Then erased it.

Then typed: sorry I’ve just been busy

Erased that too.

Another buzz.

Sukuna: Don’t ignore me.

Your heart started beating faster.

You swallowed hard, your thumb trembling slightly as you locked your phone again, pressing it against your chest like you could quiet everything inside you.

“I’ll answer later…” you whispered to yourself.

You didn’t.

Minutes passed.

Then another buzz.

You squeezed your eyes shut before even checking it this time—but you did anyway.

Sukuna: Come outside. Now.

Your breath caught.

Outside?

Now?

Your gaze flickered toward the window, the dark campus stretching out beyond it, lit by scattered streetlights.

Your heart started racing for a completely different reason.

You sat there for a full minute, frozen.

Then:

You: why?

The reply came almost instantly.

Sukuna: Don’t make me come get you.

Your stomach dropped.

He would.

You knew he would.

And somehow, that made everything worse—and better—at the same time.

You stood up too quickly, nearly knocking your chair over. Your hands moved on their own, grabbing your hoodie, pulling it over your head, sleeves covering your fingers like armor.

“Okay… okay…” you muttered under your breath, trying to steady your breathing. “Just go outside. It’s fine.”

It didn’t feel fine.

Nothing about this felt fine.

By the time you made it down the hallway and out of the dorm building, your heart was pounding so loud you were sure it was audible.

The night air hit your face, cool and sharp.

And there he was.

Leaning against a car like he owned the entire campus, phone in hand, expression already edged with irritation.

The moment he saw you, he straightened.

“There you are,” he said.

Your steps slowed.

“…hi.”

Too quiet.

Too small.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he took you in—your hunched posture, your covered hands, the way you wouldn’t look at him.

That familiar tension snapped into place.

“What’s your problem?” he asked bluntly, pushing off the car.

Your chest tightened instantly.

“I don’t have a problem…”

“You do,” he said, walking toward you. “Because you’ve been ignoring me all day.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you, I just—”

“Don’t lie.” His voice sharpened. “I can see when you read my messages.”

You froze.

“…I didn’t know what to say,” you admitted quietly.

“That’s not an excuse,” he shot back. “Since when do you not know how to talk to me?”

“I always know how to talk to you,” you said, voice trembling. “I just… didn’t want to say the wrong thing.”

“And instead you said nothing?” he snapped.

You flinched.

“I-I thought you were mad at me,” you rushed out, words starting to trip over each other. “And I didn’t want to make it worse and I didn’t know how to fix it and—”

“Mad at you?” he cut in, brows pulling together. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know!” Your voice cracked, panic rising. “That’s why I didn’t text you, I thought if I said something wrong you’d actually get mad and then—”

“Then what?” he pressed, stepping closer.

you backed up slightly without meaning to.

“I don’t know…” you whispered, your breathing uneven now.

“Look at me,” he said.

You couldn’t.

Your eyes stayed locked on the ground.

“I said look at me.”

Your chest tightened painfully.

“I can’t…” you murmured.

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll mess it up,” you said, voice breaking. “I always mess things up when I’m nervous and then you’ll get annoyed and I just—”

Your words dissolved completely as your breathing hitched.

You felt it coming.

You tried to stop it.

But the tears came anyway.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, voice shaking. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you, I just didn’t know what to do and I didn’t want you to hate me and—”

Your voice broke completely.

Silence dropped hard between you.

Sukuna froze.

“…shit.”

All the irritation drained from his face instantly, replaced by something else—something caught off guard.

“Hey—” His voice lowered immediately. “Hey, no, don’t—”

You turned your face away, trying to hide it, your hands coming up to cover your face as your shoulders shook slightly.

“I didn’t mean to—” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Damn it…”

He stepped closer again, slower this time, more careful.

“Hey,” he tried again, softer now. “C’mere baby.”

You didn’t move.

So he did.

His hand gently wrapped around your wrist, tugging just enough to bring you closer—not forceful, just steady.

When you didn’t pull away, he pulled you into him, one arm coming around your shoulders.

It wasn’t perfect.

A little awkward.

But careful.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said quietly, his voice right above your head now. “I was just… annoyed. That’s it.”

You clutched lightly at his shirt, your voice barely there. “I’m sorry…”

“Stop apologizing princess,” he said immediately. “You didn’t do anything that bad.”

“I ignored you…”

“Yeah, and I came at you too hard,” he admitted. “So we’re even.”

You let out a small, shaky breath.

He shifted slightly, one hand coming up to awkwardly wipe at your cheek.

“You’re really sensitive,” he muttered—not harsh, just… noticing.

You nodded faintly against him.

“…I know.”

He exhaled through his nose.

“Yeah. I can tell.”

There was a pause.

Then he gently tilted your chin up, giving you time—waiting.

This time, you managed to look at him.

Your eyes were still wet, lashes clumped slightly, expression soft and fragile.

“…I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore,” you admitted.

He blinked.

“…what?”

“I thought you were getting tired of me,” you whispered.

He stared at you for a second—then let out a quiet, disbelieving scoff.

“You avoided me… because you thought I was avoiding you?”

You nodded a little, embarrassed.

“…yeah.”

He shook his head slightly.

“That’s…” He huffed. “That’s actually insane.”

Your face fell slightly.

“I didn’t mean—”

“I’m not saying it like that,” he cut in quickly, softer now. “I just—” He paused, then sighed. “You’re overthinking everything.”

“…I know.”

Another quiet moment passed.

Then he nodded toward his car.

“Come on.”

“…where?”

“Out.”

You hesitated. “…like… now?”

“Yes, now.”

“…okay.”

—

You ended up sitting on the hood of his car in a quiet, empty parking lot, far from the dorms, far from everything loud and overwhelming.

The sky stretched endlessly above you, scattered with stars.

A paper bag sat between you.

Sukuna handed you a burger.

“Eat.”

You blinked. “…you brought food?”

“Obviously.”

“…for me?”

He gave you a look. “No, I brought extra for decoration.”

You gave a tiny, shy smile.

“…thank you.”

You ate slowly, still a little sniffly, your emotions settling bit by bit.

After a while, you leaned back slightly, looking up.

“It’s really pretty…”

“Yeah,” he said—but he was looking at you, not the sky.

You didn’t notice.

Your fingers fidgeted with the wrapper again.

“I really wasn’t trying to ignore you,” you said softly. “I just get scared I’ll say something wrong.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“…you don’t have to do that with me,” he said.

“I know… I just can’t help it sometimes.”

“…then tell me that,” he replied. “Don’t disappear.”

You nodded. “…okay.”

A small silence settled—comfortable this time.

Gentle.

He reached out, brushing his thumb lightly under your eye.

“You okay now?” he asked quietly.

“…yeah.”

“You sure?”

You nodded again.

He studied your face for a moment—then leaned in slowly, giving you time.

You didn’t pull away.

Your breath caught softly as his lips met yours—gentle, steady, nothing like the intensity from earlier.

It felt safe.

Warm.

When he pulled back, he stayed close, his voice low.

“…next time, just answer me.”

You gave a small, shy nod.

“…I will.”

His hand found yours again, fingers lacing together.

And this time—