oh you know

Another frustrated groan echoed through the workshop as you slammed the tape measure down onto the desk. Somehow, the numbers were wrong. Again.

You’ve been working on this damn project for at least two weeks straight, screwing and unscrewing, soldering and resoldering, and yet, you still couldn’t get it right. You took to your notes, not bothering with neatness at this stage, your eraser long gone as you began crossing and scribbling over errors with new figures and calculations. You didn’t realise just how jittery your hands were with saturated anger, aggressively striking through a third failed method, in the process accidentally knocking a small drill to the floor with a loud clang. Your hands went to your ears, overwhelmed by the crash, the mess in your notebook finally getting to your head.

The disturbance was enough to make the only other student in the workshop put his own project on pause, pair of pliers in his hand, having spent the past minutes delicately snipping away at wires with the utmost precision. Your hands drooped to the desk with defeat. His presence only added to the weight in your chest; it didn’t help to have the academy's golden boy shining over your shoulder in all his exuberance as you wallowed in gloom of consistent failure.

You and Jayce shared a mutual, somewhat playful, rivalry since day one of joining the academy, sparked by an argument over the correct way to chisel metal. Labelling him as “uneducated”, you got stuck with the descriptor “stubborn”, which you proved time and time again in an attempt to always be right. You’d never admit it, but he was talented, and more often than not, he was right. But it would kill you to fuel his already soaring ego, opting to silently admire from afar instead, watching as his hands carefully handled his projects, having the materials bend to his will as if enchanted. It was infuriating. You wished you were in any other company right now, knowing that some spiteful comment was brewing in Jayce’s mind as he observed you slumped over your desk.

“Finally ready to give up?” he chimed, in that annoying teasing tone he got whenever he had the upper hand. His prideful smile dipped ever so slightly when he wasn’t met with your usual, sharp retaliation. He tilted his head slightly, watching you still, as if waiting for you to bite back, but it never came. You only seemed to sink deeper into your seat.

“Maybe you’re right,” you finally admitted, months of his words weighing you down, “maybe I'm not cut out for this,” you confessed quietly, afraid that if you spoke louder, your voice would betray you with a crack. Now this made Jayce frown, your behaviour something new entirely. You folded and fiddled with the hands in your lap, desperate for a distraction, to ignore him, to forget the broken design in front of you, the physical manifestation of your failing future laid out on the table.

With all the buzzing in your head, you didn’t hear Jayce approach till his shadow crossed your form, shrinking away from him as he came over to look at the mess on your desk, no doubt to poke fun at the obvious mistakes you’ve made. Shame burnt its way up your shoulders, heating the back of your neck in embarrassment as he stood there, waiting for the first blow to fall. Jayce himself was confused on what to do; he’d usually playfully pester you about all of the errors you’ve made, showing you how to fix it, in an albeit cocky manner. Though wrapped in contempt and taunts, all he ever wanted was to help you. He knew you had potential, and he thought your mutual competitiveness drew out the best from the pair of you, though given your current state, his usual approach didn’t seem all too appropriate. He wondered if it’s all gone too far, if his comments were too incessant. He sighed, annoyed at himself for not knowing what to do, not used to being genuine with you.

You tilted your head away, desperate to conceal the frustrated tears which were now wetting your cheeks, yet the few damp spots on your desk betrayed you. The sight of your smudged writing sent Jayce’s brain into override. He picked up the drill from the floor and set it back on the desk, using the action as an excuse to kneel next to you, gently turning your swivel chair to face him. You avoided his gaze at all costs, however if only your look shifted to lock with his, you'd see his eyes flooded with concern.

“Hey.” he said sternly, but his tone was unusably gentle. Your cheeks were flush with anger, among other things, your brain too scrambled to piece together an insult to throw at him. Your breathing was heavy, feeling trapped between the chair and the man before you, wanting to shove him out of your way. But you stayed put. A thumb drying your wet cheek startled you, causing you to flinch back, Jayce jerking away too. Your eyes finally met in a tense silence. He held your gaze as he reached forward again, slow, calculating, soothing. He wiped your tears away.

“What are you doing?” you asked, throat tight.

“I don’t know,” he responded with a light voice, as not to scare you away. You looked away again. He took note of how instead of pulling away, your head lulled into his palm ever so slightly, barely by conscious choice. “Do you...” he wondered if you’ll take his next question as an insult, “do you want me to help?”

You shrugged, it now being your turn to respond with a quiet “I don’t know”. You pried his hand way from your cheek, letting them both fall to your lap. “I wanted to do it myself,” you said, your voice fragile as tears welled in your eyes once more. Weeks of frustration have left you exhausted, frustrated and disappointed with yourself. “I should be able to do this myself,” you let the dam break. “If I can’t even do this, then what good am I for? I’m so behind everyone else, I’m so behind you.” Your confession mirrored his teasing comments, “I’m just lying to myself at this point, thinking I'll ever be good at this-”

It didn’t take much coaxing for you to find yourself in an unexpected, yet welcome embrace.

“Just shut up already,” he said. You let your eyes fall closed with a sob, feeling the arms around you tighten at the sound. One of his hands rested at the base of your neck, easing the tension at the junction of your shoulders. You melted into him, your pridefully built barriers breaking in this moment of vulnerability, in this need and search of comfort. “You’re better at this than I’d like to admit,” he told you, smiling when he heard a laugh cut through your shaky breath. “If you couldn’t do this, you wouldn’t be studying here, would you?” he paused, letting you contemplate his question, but not expecting an answer. He continued, “with invention comes failure. It’s an inevitable part of the process. Trust me, I'm no stranger to it.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed, moving your head to rest against his chest so he could hear you clearer, “as if Piltover’s star student ever made an error.” He chuckled lowly, easing you out of the chair to slink into his lap on the floor.

“Not everything I make works first time, you know? I just don’t let you see that,” he confessed, and though he couldn’t see, he knew you rolled your eyes in response.

“You’re so annoying,” you sniffled, not moving from your spot against him.

“So are you,” he said warmly, his voice like cinnamon, chin coming to rest atop your head. “And you’d be even more annoying if you were to give up now. The city of progress exists because of people like you. Besides, the Academy would be so boring without you; who would I bully then?” he teased.

“And who would put you in your place?” you teased back. He shook his head, smile on his face, hearing your personality shining back through.

“There’s no shame in asking for help, you know,” he told you after a few seconds of silence. He felt you curl in on yourself. “Sometimes I ask Viktor for help when you’re not around,” he said, continuing to open up to you.

“Really?” At this confession you look up at him, stray tears glittering your lashes. He hums in response, eyes soft and truthful. You only now notice how his thumb has been absentmindedly rubbing over your arm, calming you further. You sighed, wiping your eyes roughly and promptly crossing your arms, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in the arms of the man you claimed to so dearly despise. However, neither of you moved.

“You should take a break,” Jayce told you as he felt you shift to get up, making you settle down in the comfort of his affection for a few more seconds.

“This was a break,” you protested.

“No. I mean a real break,” he spoke, helping you up off the floor and stretching afterwards. “Hell, I could use a break too.” Jayce extended his hand towards you with an overly grandiose invitation, his voice laced with a mocking posh lilt, “care to walk with me?” He laughed when you slapped his hand away, turning your head as to conceal your amusement.

“Idiot,” you commented, fondly, pushing him towards the door. “Only if you buy me a sugar pretzel like the one you brought last week,” you bargained.

“Yeah, yeah, anything to stop your crying,” he babied you playfully, continuing to laugh as you attempted to shove him. He stumbled for theatrics and to fuel your ego, just a little bit.

“I hate you,” you mumbled, hooking your pinkie around his. Jayce took your hand in his.

Thursday rolled around quickly. During the past few days you’ve spent more than a considerable amount of time admiring the temporarily gifted jacket, tracing your fingers over the seams and lettering of his name. Though you didn’t wear it often, you were still reluctant to let it go. You had it draped over the back of your chair, its presence becoming almost a substituting comfort of its absent owner. You were aware of the fact that it was odd to grow so attached to a jacket, even more so, a jacket belonging to someone you didn’t know entirely all that well. However, you simply couldn’t ignore the fluttering sensation in your chest whenever you remembered the garment in your room.

The said jacket was currently folded neatly in your arms as you made your way to the sports hall. You wore a thick, fluffy jumper to keep you warm, your bag thrown over your shoulder. You had attempted to fit the jacket inside but quickly came to the conclusion that it wouldn’t fit, and the last thing you wanted to do was to return the generously gifted jacket a pile of wrinkles. You weren’t sure what time to arrive at the hall, but decided that 3pm would be a safe estimate; not too late and not too early. And if they weren’t there, there must be a training schedule somewhere in the hall. As you made your way down, you watched your boots step over the carpet of fallen orange leaves, disappointed at their lack of crunch due to their currently soggy state. Your friend had convinced you to go alone, claiming that they didn’t want to “third-wheel”. It took a whole lot of convincing, but you eventually agreed, more so because you were tired of every retaliation they threw at you rather than from actually agreeing with their points. 

As expected, the journey from your dorm to the sports hall was short, and you arrived before you could get too lost in the merging autumn colours. You tore your eyes away from the leaves and to the door when you heard the promising squeak of trainers against the laminate floor, paired with the echoing of bouncing balls. You peeked into the hall, and luck seemed to be on your side as you quickly identified the people inside as the volleyball team. Everybody seemed to be doing their own practices, though for some reason, Hinata was on Bokuto’s shoulders. 

“TOSS IT!” Bokuto hollered to one of his team mates. They followed his orders and set the ball high above the net. In the same instant, Bokuto charged forward and leapt into the air, Hinata extending his hand in an attempt to spike the ball. To be fair, Bokuto didn’t jump all that high, though that was to be expected given the boy on his back. Even then, the ball struck Hinata in the face. Bokuto yelled out as if he had been struck himself and landed heavily, almost stumbling back, yet somehow Hinata managed to stay clawed to Bokuto’s back. You couldn’t help but laugh at the silly tactics the boys managed to come up with. Your laugh rang out through the hall, causing the pair’s heads to whip around to see you in the doorway trying to hold back your now hiccupping giggles. 

“Y/N!” Hinata launched himself off and over Bokuto’s head to run and greet you. Your giggles died down to an amused smile. You could now see the redness overtaking his face from where he got hit, though he didn’t seem fazed by it at all, a beaming smile breaking through anything that might even resemble pain. Bokuto was quick to join him by his side, whilst Sakusa half listened, continuing his practice somewhere nearby on the court. 

“What’re you doing here?” Bokuto asked, completely forgetting that you were planning to meet with Atsumu today. 

“Oh,” you held up the jacket in your arms, “I came to return this,” you said as your eyes filtered through all the people in the hall. Distracted by all the chaos caused by the two boys, you didn’t even notice if Atsumu was here or not. You frowned when you didn’t see him anywhere on the court. Your gaze returned to Bokuto, giving him a questioning look. 

“Ah! Atsumu,” he said as if it should have been obvious. Why else would you be here? He couldn’t believe he totally forgot about today, given how Atsumu wouldn’t shut up about it. He gave you a slightly sad smile when he said “he’s sick” bluntly. You blinked a few times, processing the information.

“He’s sick???” you shrieked, mortified by the news. This must be your fault, you shouldn’t have taken his jacket. Your head was locked between your palms in a state of distress. “Oh no, I’m so sorry!!” Bokuto only laughed at your panic, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s fine, he’s only been out of business for a couple of days!” he said. 

“You’re not the one who had to take care of him.” Sakusa muttered darkly, ceasing his practice to walk over to the group. “He’s a nightmare to deal with.” he stated plainly. The guilt overflowing from your eyes almost made him crack. He knew it wasn’t your fault; Atsumu could be stubborn when he wanted to impress someone. 

“But he’s getting better, right?” Hinata asked, as if reading your mind, though he was simply as curious as you were. 

“Doesn’t stop him from whining all the time though,” replied Sakusa. Bokuto’s eyes glinted with a fresh new idea. 

“I know! Y/n, you should go visit him!,” he suggested. Your eyes widened at the proposal, but Bokuto continued before you could protest. “That way you can give him the jacket back today like you promised! And it seems like Sakusa here needs a break,” he said, patting the said boy on the back who visibly tried not to flinch at the contact. His eyes bore into yours with a wordless plea. His look alone seemed to convince you to agree. 

“Ok..” you said with a small voice, gripping the jacket a bit closer to your chest. Sakusa turned to leave the second you agreed to take over his burdensome role, even if only for an hour or so.

“Cherry Block. His room is K7,” he informed you. You nodded in response despite his back being turned. You turned to Bokuto, not knowing if you were angry at him for suggesting something like this, or simply fearful of going to see Atsumu in such an intimate space. Both Bokuto and Hinata gave you an encouraging thumbs up. Of course they knew this would go well, Atsumu wouldn’t stop talking about you and wanting to get to know you. This would be the perfect opportunity and an even better surprise. Bokuto had to physically turn your stiff form around and send you on your way, giving you the push you needed to set off in the direction of his dorm. 

Your mind was reeling. You had so many thoughts running through your head, you couldn’t focus on a single one to develop into a scenario. Instead, everything crashed together into a mess of panic and despair. Could you just turn up at his room? Would he even want you there? You tried to recall the times when you were sick, and you don’t think you’d be particularly fond of the idea of someone you liked randomly turning up when you looked an absolute half dead mess. Through your frenzy of thoughts, you found enough clarity to spot the small campus student shop as you passed it by. You rushed in and paced through the aisles, your subconscious taking over as you grabbed some water, tea and a pack of cookies. Quickly walking over to the small array of medicines, you picked up a packet of ibuprofen tablets, deciding that this would be the best option to alleviate any pains or knock down a probable fever. Jacket still in your arms, you paid and tried not to run out of the store. As worried as you were about arriving, you wanted to get there as soon as possible. Your guilt seemed to urge you on. You put all the items in your bag as you walked, almost dropping several things as you stuffed them in. 

Before you knew it, you were standing outside of the Cherry dorm block. A couple was conveniently leaving as you arrived, and seeing how you struggled to close your bag they held the door open for you. You gave them a quick thank you, then turned your attention to the list detailing all of the floors. K… ah! Second Floor. 

You arrived at his door in what seemed to be a blink of an eye. You took a second to catch your breath. And another. And another. What if he was asleep? You almost groaned in frustration, the number on his door seemingly teasing you. The longer you stare at the door, you notice its… slightly ajar? You glance down to notice a small door stop holding the door slightly open. You assumed it was so that Sakusa could come in without Atsumu having to get up to open the door. Was he really that sick? This only seemed to worry you more, and your brain went into overdrive as you gently pushed the door open with a small creak. The sound alerted Atsumu to someone’s arrival, whom he obviously assumed was Sakusa. 

Not bothering to look up from his phone, he was comfortably propped up on his hand as he rested on his side. You quickly assessed his appearance. You were almost mad at how he didn’t even look bad right now. He looked comfortable under the covers, wearing a black crewneck. Sure, his hair was maybe a bit dishevelled, but it only made him look cuter. His cheeks were a bit redder than usual, with hints of darkness around his eyes. 

“Hey,” he said nonchalantly, his voice sounding a bit hoarse and rough.

“Hey,” you replied shyly. Now this made him look up. Did his cheeks get redder? Or was it just the fever?

“Pumpkin…” he said breathlessly, causing him to cough a bit into his fist. “What’re ya doing here?” he asked, blinking up at you. Your explanation came out like a waterfall. 

“You said we were gonna meet on Thursday so I can return your jacket, so I went to the sports hall and. Hinata was on Bokuto’s shoulders? Anyway, you weren’t there and they told me you’re sick and I got so worried so they said I should come here to give this back and Sakusa told me where to go and so. Here I am. Here.” you thrust the jacket back into his hands after finishing your rant. He was still so surprised by you being here, he never got the opportunity to apologise for missing your “date”. He looked from the jacket back to you. 

“Thank you,” was the only thing he could think of saying in his sleepy sick state. You sighed and knelt by his bed, taking in his appearance. Up close, he definitely looked tired. You looked at him so sadly it almost broke his heart. 

“I’m so sorry, Atsumu, this is all my fault,” you mumbled. He looked at you, confused. 

“Heh? What? Oh! No no no!” he tried to reassure you to the best of his abilities, anything to get you to stop frowning at him like that. “It’s my fault! Ya did warn me, I just didn’t listen! I’m an idiot,” he admitted. He would almost never admit to being wrong, even if he was, but if it got your eyes to soften like they did just now, he’d do it again without hesitation. “And I did stop ya from gettin’ cold,” he bargained proudly, “so that’s good enough for me. Besides! I’m fine,” he said. You only sighed in response, but looked somewhat more content seeing that he was doing ok. That is, until his lungs betrayed him and he started coughing again. 

“Are you sure you’re fine? Did you check your temperature?” You asked once his coughing subsided. He tilted his head to the side.

“Um… no?” he replied, not knowing if he even owned a thermometer. Your frown returned and his stomach filled with dread. Hesitating a few times, you gingerly lifted your hand up, going to check yourself, but you stopped at the last second. 

“May I?” you asked. Atsumu swallowed and gently pressed his forehead against the back of your waiting hand. You kept it there for a few seconds, feeling how hot he was beneath your skin. You were surprisingly composed as you moved your hand to now rest against his cheek, checking the temperature there. On the other hand, his heart rate skyrocketed, eyes searching your face as your touch sent goosebumps down his neck like wildfire. You took his heavy breathing as a side effect of his laboured cough. You took your hand away and looked at him. 

“I think you have a fever.” you concluded. 

“Yeah,” he agreed, still slightly dazed by your soft and delicate touch. He watched you intently as you reached for your bag and rummaged through, taking out the medicine you bought earlier. You handed it to him and continued to look through the contents. 

“Take two of those, they should help with the fever. And any pain, you’re not in pain are you?” you looked up at him with those sad eyes again. He shook his head, looking at you in awe. You brought him medicine? He turned the packet over in his hands before opening it up and popping two pills out into his palm. He looked around his bed and bedside table for something to take them with and his eyes caught the bottle of water you were already extending out to him. He was speechless. He took it slowly, amazed by how prepared you were, his eyes not leaving yours. You shied away from stare, suddenly embarrassed by how much effort you put in. You assumed his stare meant he thought you odd, however, it meant quite the opposite. You did so much without him even needing to ask. He was unfamiliar with such gestures; the whole thing made his chest tighten. He took the two pills and thanked you, putting the water on his table only to see you still looking through your bag. He almost melted when you placed a box of tea and a pack of cookies on his bed. 

“Would you… like some tea?” you asked meekly, hoping you didn’t weird him out too much. He looked stunned as he nodded in response. 

“Yes please,” he replied equally as quietly. He couldn’t recall the last time he genuinely said please to someone like that. He was used to demanding things, or complaining and annoying someone enough until they complied, but with you, he was reduced to fluff. You stood up and grabbed the box, though when you turned to leave, he gently took a hold of your hand. 

“Wait! Um...make two? …and stay for a bit? We can watch a movie or somethin’, if ya want,” he asked. You smiled and nodded.

“Okay,” you replied. 

When you left, Atsumu breathed out and covered his face with his hands, as if trying to push tears back into his eyes. He couldn’t believe you were this sweet. He didn’t deserve any of this. If anything, he expected you to be mad about him not being at the sports hall. He grabbed his phone to quickly message a group chat with him, Sakusa, Bokuto and Hinata. 

A: GUYS.

A: OH MY GOD.

A: THEY BROUGHT ME MEDICINE?

A: AND TEA AND COOKIES???

His heart felt a now familiar twang when he heard you come in through the door again with two hot cups of tea. He put his phone back down to take one from you with another soft thank you. He felt his small bed dip as you sat on the other side, one leg pressed lightly against his due to lack of space, however neither of you made the effort to move. He chuckled to the best of his ability despite his rough voice.

“Ya really thought of everythin’, huh Pumpkin? Maybe I should start callin’ ya Angel instead?” he mused. You blushed at the thought of him using a new nickname, trying to hide it by sipping on your tea. 

“Well,” you began, “It’s the least I could do. I don’t care what you say, but I do feel at least partially responsible for you getting sick” you admitted. 

“What if i get ya sick?” he challenged, even though he was the one that asked you to stay. 

“It would only be fair,” you stated. 

He replied with an amsed hum, setting the tea aside momentarily to get his laptop to find something to watch. After mutually settling on some random feel-good movie, you both subconsciously leaned on one another for support whilst sipping on your tea. After a few minutes, you turned to Atsumu. 

“Hey,” you asked. He responded with a questioning hum, glancing at you. “Could you explain volleyball to me?” This made him pause the movie and turn to face you with his entire body. His eyes scanned yours with serious surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah, that’s what we were gonna do today anyway, and I wanna understand it better,”

His eyes lit up like a child’s as he excitedly closed his laptop, his tea forgotten on his bedside table whilst you smiled against the edge of your own cup as you watched him explain things with a new found energy. You watched him gesticulate as he talked you through things, his finger demonstrating the flow of a ball through the air, or showing you the way he positions his hands to toss the perfect set. He opened up his laptop again to look up examples of whatever it was he was explaining, pointing to the screen and following around a figure for you to focus on as he continued to talk. You’d point to things too, asking if someone just did something that he told you about earlier, to which he would excitedly say YES!! and start talking about possible variants of whatever just happened. He encouraged you to put your own cup down so he could position your fingers to explain certain points, though he paused for a second to marvel at how much smaller your hands were compared to his. You were trying equally as hard not to blush as he played with your hands, bending them back gently when explaining the dangers of not using the correct techniques when blocking. His fingers locked around your wrist lightly, telling you how resistance should come from here instead. He got you to copy the position he would use for setting, only to quickly move your fingers again when explaining how to spike.

“And I can show ya next time!” he said eagerly. You smiled at the way his eyes glittered when he talked about something he loved.

“Okay,” you said contently. 

“Okay,” He confirmed, turning back to his laptop to find whatever it was he wanted to explain now. 

It was Friday afternoon. For the past two days you’ve had the invitation you received on Wednesday replaying in your head. Sure, you didn’t have any specific details yet, but the plan was in motion, wasn’t it? You smiled at the prospect as you scanned the library shelves for a specific tome. The library was pleasantly quiet today. Your lessons were done for the day, but you stopped by the library for a book which wasn’t available online, much to your dismay. A46, A46, A46… you repeated to yourself, searching for the matching label on your desired book. You spotted it with a satisfied ah ha! And plucked it from the collection. Promptly checking out the book, you headed out to the small foyer preceding the library. Approaching the door, you spotted a familiar pair.

Bokuto was right by the door, eagerly discussing some topic with an equally ecstatic boy with a head full of mad ginger hair. The boy was extremely animated, gesticulating wildly as he rambled on about something. In comparison to this bundle of energy, Bokuto seemed tame, though more often than not, his intensity matched his, resulting in chaos. This chaos, however, was cut short when you caught Bokuto’s attention with a friendly wave as you passed the pair. His eyes brightened and stepped towards you, a thrilled grin on his face.

“Y/n! Hey!” he greeted you as if you were lifelong friends. You tried to match his enthusiasm with your hello, though that was hard to achieve on a slow Friday afternoon. Bokuto noticed his friend gawking at you upon hearing your name, much like he must have done when he first realised who you were. You were not oblivious to his stare either, offering him a small wave accompanied with a quiet hi. 

“Ah, this is Hinata, he’s on the volleyball team too,” Bokuto explained. The name rang a bell; you recalled his name being mentioned last Wednesday. You also remembered seeing him in the distance on the Monday morning when you first met Bokuto. You gave him a warm smile and extended your hand.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, happy to be getting familiar with the rest of the team. Hinata returned your smile tenfold, shaking your hand with a new found charge of energy. 

“He was right! You are pretty!” he said bluntly, stars in his eyes. You let out a surprised laugh and slipped your hand out of his, your eyes flicking between Hinata and Bokuto for any further explanation. You assumed ‘He’ referred to Atsumu, but Bokuto only scratched his neck with an awkward chuckle, knowing that should they let anything else slip, Atsumu would tear them to shreds. Well at least you had one thing confirmed, though you didn’t know how much credibility could be pinned to a statement like that. This should have been an obvious sign to you, but your thought process was blocked with doubt and denial. Yet, you couldn’t ignore the small flame of hope kindled in the pit of your chest.

“You should come to one of our games!” the ginger quipped, his excitement still bubbling. This lit a spark in Bokuto’s eyes.

“Oh yeah! Did Atsumu tell you any dates?” he inquired. You shook your head in response.

“No, I haven’t seen him since Wednesday,” you said. 

“We have a friendly game with our county rivals next Monday!” Hinata explained cheerfully. You nodded as if you understood what that meant; the words ‘friendly’ and ‘rivals’ didn’t make any sense to you when paired. Before Bokuto could follow up with any info, he felt a chilling presence behind him. Whipping around he saw the masked boy outside the window giving the group a stern glare. As if wordlessly communicating with the two boys, the pair spun around to face you apologetically.

“Sorry, y/n, we gotta go now,” explained Bokuto, dragging Hinata to the door, “see you on Monday?” he asked with an expectant look. You nodded and waved them goodbye, giving the mysterious masked boy a nervous glance. Bokuto saw your unease and laughed loudly. “That’s Sakusa by the way,” he said as he opened the door to step out into the cold Mid October air. The now named boy gave you a single nod and turned to walk away when he was sure the exuberant pair was following him to practice. You gave the group another wave goodbye as they walked past the window, Hinata bouncing along and returning your wave. 

Once they left your field of vision, you swiftly took out your phone to update your friend on the upcoming event, obviously including them in the plan. You couldn’t just go alone, you’d probably explode from the stress. Though who in their right mind gets stressed out about watching a volleyball game? You could already feel your stomach turning with anticipation. Your friend replied almost immediately. You smiled and tucked your phone away, as you’d much rather discuss this face to face. And so, you headed to your shared dorm. For the first time, you wanted to skip the weekend entirely. 

-  

Thankfully, the weekend seemed to zip past fast for you. Whilst your head was swimming in excitement, your stomach twisted with anxiety. You sat in your Monday morning class, hyper aware of the fact that the game was some time today, but you had no clue what time it was. Heck, you didn’t even know WHERE it was. You obviously haven’t seen Atsumu, or anyone else from the team for that matter, during the weekend, so you were completely lost as to where you were meant to go. Atsumu’s absence was something else your mind also stuck to; you haven’t seen or heard from him since Wednesday, did he even know you were coming today? What if he didn’t even want you there? As your mind was preoccupied with skipping over the possible outcomes that could play out today, you barely paid attention to the class for a second week in a row. You were once again torn out of your thoughts by your prodding friend, signalling that the class was over. 

You stepped outside your block, your eyes scanning the area for Atsumu, or even Bokuto, but you were left disappointed. Your friend watched you deflate. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t go…” you sighed, increasingly unsure about going to the match. Your friend gasped, as if betrayed.

“No way, y/n! We’re going, I don’t care what you say. I’ll drag you there myself if I have to,” they promised. You looked at them, clearly feeling defeated. 

“I don’t even know where it is. Or when it is. What if-” you began, only to be cut off by your friend’s shushing finger. 

“Stop. I bet it’s in the sports hall, where else would it be?” they explained. They sighed at your clueless expression. “It’s down the path behind our dorms. You know, the path to the left of the parking lot?” You blinked. Was it? You tried following the path in your mind, but it led you nowhere. You shrugged and set off in the direction of your dorms, not in the mood to stop by the cafe or library today. 

“Well either way, I don’t know what time to go,” you started again. “And I am not going to sit outside the hall all day like a freak,” you said before your friend could even suggest the idea. 

“I’m sure it’s online or something,” they offered. You hummed in response, taking out your phone to look anywhere that might give you the answer. As you scrolled, you didn’t look where you were going, and your friend didn’t give you any warning as you slammed into something solid and still, as if they placed themselves in your path deliberately (he did). You blinked up to look at your obstacle only to be met with a set of familiar, teasing eyes. 

“Ya gotta be more careful, Pumpkin,” he playfully advised, shaking his head with a click of his tongue. Your face burned with embarrassment and muttered out a bashful sorry. He laughed at the state you were in. He’d love to stick around to tease you some more, but he had to head to a meeting with his personal tutor. He turned to your amused friend who had a similar, mischievous glint in their eyes. They were definitely on the same brain waves. “Ya really gotta start keeping an eye on them! They could get seriously hurt one day!” He mockingly codesended your friend with his hands on his hips, knowing perfectly well that they didn’t warn you on purpose. They held back a laugh at this.

“Of course, it won’t happen again!” they returned with a similar, sarcastic tone, implying that it most definitely will happen again, even if they have to make it happen themselves. Atsumu seemed satisfied with this response and turned to leave, but not before locking eyes with you again.

“I’ll see ya later today, yeah?” he started walking away, taking your answer for granted. “Come at 7:30, ok?” he said, but it sounded more like a command than a question. He smiled when you confirmed with a nod, and with that, he was gone. Well, that answered a few things. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself.

 - 

In no less than 3 minutes, you were regretting your decision to not bring a jacket. You rubbed your forearms in an attempt to warm up, thanking the heavens that you were at least half way down the path already. You were too stubborn to turn around to get something warmer than your button up sweater, and besides, it was 7:25 already. Your friend seemed significantly cosier than you in their thick black crewneck. You told yourself that the sports hall was right behind your dorm block and you wouldn’t need it seeing as it was a quick walk away. Besides, you didn’t want to deal with the hassle of a large coat later on. Whilst, yes, you could see the lights from the sports hall already and you were nearly there, you couldn’t ignore the fact that the chill had a sharp bite tonight. 

You heard the squeaks of sneakers and random shouts as you heard the teams inside warming up for their upcoming game. You and your friend peered inside, blinking against the bright lights to look at the boys inside. The tone of the room didn’t appear to be as tense as you would have expected it to be; some boys were doing random warm ups and some even chatted casually with members of the opposite team. Hinata did say it would be a friendly game after all, so perhaps you shouldn’t be surprised. Little did you know how the atmosphere would shift once the first set was in motion. You quickly recognised Bokuto and Hinata, the pair absolutely buzzing with energy and excitement doing quick training exercises. Atsumu sensed your presence the second you appeared at the open door, but he let your eyes find him before his gaze drifted to catch your full attention. He gave you a big smile and happy wave. You wanted to wish him good luck, though you remembered that in theatre that superstitiously meant bad luck. Not knowing if the same rule applied to sport, you settled on a small wave in return. Not wanting to distract him or get him out of the zone, you followed your friend to find a seat. 

Soon enough the game began and you found yourself in the front row on the upper level of the bleachers. Despite it only being a friendly match, you were surprised by how many people from both universities attended the game. Atsumu was the first to serve, and you paid extra attention to stay silent, Sakusa’s warning still ringing clearly in your mind. The ball flew cleanly over the net and you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding. To be perfectly honest, you didn’t know much about the game, and it didn’t occur to you to maybe learn the rules beforehand. As a result you didn’t fully understand the etiquette either; you weren’t sure when to cheer and when to stay silent. You knew that some games required silence, such as golf or tennis, whilst others encouraged a constant roar of applause. You mimicked the general reactions of the rest of the crowd, and sooner or later you caught onto the general rhythm, even if your reactions were slightly subdued. Not to mention, everything was going so fast it was hard to track what was going on. At times, a play seemed to end in the blink of an eye.

You tracked Atsumu the best you could despite the almost overwhelming speed of the game. You noticed how much his demeanour changed whenever he got particularly invested. Even at this distance you could swear his eyes got darker, the light catching a dangerous glint whenever he saw the perfect opportunity to set up a winning spike. This tone would occasionally wash away when exchanging playful comments with his team mates, but you could tell by his body language how easily he shifted back into that dark, competitive mode. As you watched him, you couldn’t imagine being in his shoes. How could he play so well when he was being watched by so many people? You’d probably trip over your own legs from the pressure, and this wasn’t even a super important game. Unbeknownst to you, Atsumu felt a new kind of thrill knowing you were watching him, like a shock of electricity jolted through his whole system as he was ever  aware of your presence and watching eyes. Atsumu was beyond ecstatic to see your passion and energy when you got into the pace of the game, feeling every bit of encouragement spur him on. This effect seemed to seep through to the rest of the team, particularly Bokuto and Hinata. After securing the first set, he easily found you in the crowd, giving you an excited wave, almost as if seeking your approval. You laughed gleefully and gave him a round of applause. You were certain your praise was drowned out by the rest of the audience, but to Atsumu, your cheers rang out like a blessing. Little did you know, a handful of jealous and sharp glares were scattered among the crowd, all trained on you and the attention you were receiving. 

-

By the end of the game, you and your friend have gotten more than invested in the match, standing up to cheer and clap whenever your team scored a point. The game was tough but your team pulled through the final set with a slamming victory. The boys cried out, basking in their winning glow. Bokuto, Atsumu and Hinata exchanged multiple high fives and what appeared to be a special victorious handshake, meanwhile you and your friend held each other as you jumped and cheered for your team. Atsumu’s sparkling eyes found yours, his smile somehow even wider despite his already ecstatic state. He gave you a quick wave and held up one finger, as if asking you to wait before dashing into the changing rooms with the rest of the team. You barely had the time to register his request, but your brain clicked in time before he disappeared. 

You waited by the open doors, arms wrapped around yourself, shivering from the cold, biting wind. Though the excitement and rush of the game had kept you warm during the match, that heat was quickly dissipating as you stood in the open doors. Outside a small gathering of girls also waited, though at a distance, obnoxiously squealing about something you didn’t bother to catch. Your friend had left you alone, claiming they had a last minute assignment due that they completely forgot about. You wondered what assignment that might be, since you both took almost identical classes. Atsumu rushed out soon enough, pulling you out of your thoughts. He spotted you immediately and briskly walked over with an excited smile. You noticed his hair was still damp from the shower. 

“So?” He asked expectantly, “whatcha think?” He looked like a child ready for praise. His energy seeped into you, your smile blazing as you recalled that buzz of adrenaline you felt no less than a few minutes ago.

“It was SO COOL!” you expressed clenching your fists, eyes dazzled. “You were so fast!” Atsumu had a proud grin on his face. He knew he was good, but your words of affirmation were like honey. “I must admit, I didn’t quite understand what was going on, and everything was so fast that it was a bit hard to follow, but I got the hang of it! I think…” your confidence dwindled slightly by the time you got to the end of your statement. Atsumu blinked, then let out a laugh. 

“Of course, I shoulda explained the rules to ya first,” he said, rubbing the back of his head, acting as if he hadn’t hoped you’d be at least a bit confused. “If ya still don’t get anything I can explain later,” he offered. 

Later. That word seemed to hang in the air. You’d definitely like to see him later, no matter the circumstance. You nodded eagerly.

“Yes please,” you replied. 

The pair of you were oblivious to the fact that the rest of the team had emerged from the changing rooms. Bokuto and Hintata were witness to the scene, and they almost yelled out words of encouragement before the captain bonked them on the heads, keeping them quiet before they said anything stupid and scared you off; you looked like an enamoured deer in the headlights. The captain eyed the pair. He was aware of Atsumu’s improved performance today; he didn’t seem as distracted and mouthy, and hit every serve perfectly, except for the one which hit the net, but still dropped into the opposing court. Could you be the reason?

Atsumu took in your appearance almost tenderly. He noticed you were dressed in varsity colours. So cute, he thought to himself. Whilst doing so, he also noticed you were shivering. Without thinking, he took off his team jacket and extended it to you. He did it so fast he almost surprised himself, the smallest dusting of a blush present on his cheeks. Both of you blinked at each other, however yours was more due to confusion.

“Ya look cold,” he said uncharacteristically bluntly. He quickly recomposed himself and carried on. “Can’t have ya getting sick now, can we?” he explained. You only continued to look from the offered jacket to his seemingly calm eyes. 

“Are you sure? But what if you get sick? That’ll be way worse!” you babbled, “and your hair is still wet!” you continued, almost reaching out to confirm your statement. Atsumu only looked entertained by your blushing face and stream of excuses. 

“I’m fine, really, I’m still feeling hot from the game,” he lied expertly. You looked at him for a few more uncertain seconds. By your judgement, he seemed sincere.  

“If you say so,” you said, reluctantly taking the jacket. His eyes brightened immediately. You shrugged it on; it was too big for you, obviously, the sleeves ending just at your fingertips. The sight made Atsumu’s heart flutter in a new kind of way. So warm… you had to stop yourself from sighing in comfort, finally protected from the relentless cold. You were enveloped in a cool yet surprisingly floral scent. Must be his body wash… You blushed at the thought, snapping yourself out of it. “Thank you,” you stuttered out in your dazzled state. 

“No problem,” he replied, very pleased that his spontaneous decision paid off. 

“When do you want it back?” you questioned, playing with the ends of the sleeves absentmindedly. 

“Hmm,” he hummed, “how about you come by here on Thursday? I can teach you some stuff whilst we’re at it,” he suggested. You nodded in agreement, happy with the plan. Before you could respond, the coach called Atsumu with an impatient tone of voice. Atsumu looked at you with an apologetic smile. 

“So Thursday?” he asked for confirmation. 

“Thursday.” you agreed. And with that, Atsumu gave you his signature wave and headed back to the team, greeted by Bokuto and Hinata who immediately grabbed his entire body and shook him with a feral and fired up energy. 

You headed back to your dorm, holding the jacket closer to your body. You passed the group of girls, who’s discussion died down when you walked past, but you took no care to notice. You now wished that the walk back was longer, just so you could enjoy this moment a little more. You don’t know what made him take such a bold step. You barely knew one another. But you weren’t one to complain, and you had another day to look forward to. Much to your disappointment, your walk to the dorm block came to an end as you rounded the last curve of the path. 

You walked up to the door of your dorm room, slamming the door open with a wild fire of a blush on your face. Your friend looked up from their laptop, startled by your dramatic entrance. You wordlessly turned around, revealing Atsumu’s name on the jacket he gave you. Your friend flew out of their seat, screaming wildly as they shook you with the same rigor as Bokuto and Hinata when they shook Atsumu. You held onto your friend screamed, though with a tone that connoted confusion more than anything. 

*Meanwhile* 

Atsumu shivered and sniffled as he walked back to his dorm with Sakusa. The masked boy looked disapprovingly at his roommate, praying he didn’t catch a cold. 

“That was silly. Was it worth it?” he asked.

Your whole day was shrouded in dejavu. It’s been a week since your stair incident, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking out for your saviour all week. You found yourself scanning crowds wherever you went on campus, be it a quiet library or a busy cafe. You’d mentally slap yourself when you caught yourself doing it. What would you even do if your eager eyes found his again? You were slightly aggravated at his absence. Who the hell catches someone on the stairs, casually calls them pumpkin and then disappears? Even now, your whole lecture seemed a haze as you kept wondering about what would happen once you stepped out of class. Would he be there again? A part of you wished he would, though you didn’t know what it would lead to aside from an awkward smile. Your fingers idly fiddled with your little bat stud earrings as your mind drifted here and there. The accessory was small and tasteful, but they still had the spooky spirit. You didn’t even notice the lecture come to an end until your friend was prodding your shoulder with an insistent finger. Quickly gathering your things, you followed your friend to the dreaded staircase. You turned around, half expecting the boy from last week to be behind you, but the hallway was empty. Your chest felt tight. Was it relief? Or did you hope he would be there? Your friend surprisingly made no comments about the incident last week, though you did make sure to hold onto the rail as you made your way down.

After a week of searching, a pair of familiar eyes finally found yours after you stepped outside the double doors of your block. Would it be naive of you to think he waited for you? You felt an additional set of eyes on you, a gaze belonging to someone with wildly styled black and white hair. You barely registered the other person next to the golden haired boy before he caught your attention again.

“Did ya make it down the stairs safely this time?” he said with a melodic laugh, “Or did someone else have to catch ya?” he asked, his eyes drifting to your friend who seemed to share his amusement. On the other hand, your mysterious hero’s friend’s face flooded with realisation upon hearing his teasing regarding stairs, putting two and two together.

A grand blush and slight frown morphed your face, opening your mouth to respond that actually, you made it down just fine, but you were interrupted before you could get even one syllable out.

“Oh! Is that them, Atsumu?” He asked, oddly enthusiastic.

Atsumu. His name was now branded on your brain, filling out all the gaps in your daydreams. Your friend’s head darted to the new person in the equation. Did he drop his name on purpose? Either way, an idea quietly blossomed in their mind as they watched the interaction play out.

You, however, were astounded. Before Atsumu could even react to his friend’s question, you blew up, clearly mortified.

“You TOLD HIM?” you exclaimed, gripping the strap of your bag to ground yourself. Atsumu’s eyes snapped from confused to entertained in seconds, letting out another laugh.

“Sorry, Pumpkin, it’s not every day I get to be a hero,” he explained, though his tone was anything but apologetic. Unbelievable. How could he call you that so casually, as if it didn’t set your racing? His satisfied eyes left yours to acknowledge your laughing friend. They exchanged a few comments about last week’s incident, sharing jokes about your ordeal, however you weren’t able to focus, no matter how annoyed you might be. You felt an electrifying gaze fixed on you; Atsumu’s friend was staring at you, unblinking, as if absorbing your entire essence. You tried to avoid his borderline glaring, shrinking back as if it would make you disappear from his line of sight. Atsumu noticed you were no longer defending yourself from his or your friend’s teasing, clocking how uncomfortable you suddenly looked. His eyebrows stitched themselves into a quick frown, his voice switching from light and playful to deep and stern.

“Oi, Bokuto, don’t stare.” he said, flicking said friend in the temple to snap him out of his trance. He yelped out a melodramatic OW, mumbling out an apology as he rubbed his head and avoided staring or even glancing at you. Atsumu’s hands returned to the pockets of his blue hoodie, his smile providing a seemingly genuine apology. Bokuto, as you had just learned, tapped away on his phone. His miserable demeanour quickly melted away as his head whipped around. Almost immediately you heard someone yell his name. You spotted a bright head of ginger hair in the distance, waving enthusiastically, shouting something about hurrying up and being late. Bokuto shouted back at the boy, looking to Atsumu expectantly. The boy in question gave you another warm smile.

“Stay safe, yeah? I can’t always be around,” he teased.

“And you stop bragging and telling people about what happened,” you said, a bit more hostile than you intended, “it’s embarrassing,” you muttered under your breath, but loud enough for him to catch your words. He only responded with a hum, not accepting nor denying your plea. And with that he turned and walked away, Bokuto giving you a loud BYE and wave as he ran ahead to meet with the ginger boy. You grumbled something incohesive. That went nowhere. Were you destined to see him once a week? For him to plague your thoughts for days, later thinking you’re over it only for him to show up and fuel your mind all over again? It seemed unfair. You were dragged out of your thoughts by your friend’s drawn out groan.

“He left way too soon,” they stated, “I was totally gonna drop your name before he went.” They crossed their arms, clearly, if not more, dissatisfied than you were. You only looked at them quizzically. You didn’t want to admit that maybe you liked him not knowing your name. Using Pumpkin as a placeholder was awfully cute. “Well hey, at least you know his name now.” You shrugged, still trying to appear disinterested to your friend, though that fact was the only thing on your mind. You started to walk towards the library. Your friend followed, glancing back to see Atsumu and his friends to have already vanished from the scene. As you entered the building, holding the door open for your friend, you noticed them giving you a cheeky smile. You tilted your head in question.

“He told people about you,” they said as they nudged you. You blushed but put on a defensive front nonetheless.

“What’s your point? As if you wouldn’t tell people you saw someone fall,” you accused.

“Ok well-” they were cut off by a sharp shhh from a nearby librarian. They raised their hand in apology and followed after you, searching the aisles to find you. “I think this was different,” they whispered.

“Why?” you couldn’t help but feel hope bubbling up inside you. Your friend looked around before responding, the sentence too long to simply whisper.

“Well you saw the way the other guy looked at you. He was curious, as if he was trying to figure something out. And he dropped his name out of nowhere. He’s totally acting as his wingman,” your friend winked, though you seemed unconvinced. The name drop didn’t seem deliberate to you, but you had to admit there was something odd about his stare.

“And,” your friend lifted a finger to illustrate their point, “he didn’t laugh.” This caught your attention.

“What?”

“He didn’t laugh! If Atsumu was talking about you and treating you as some kind of joke, surely the guy would have joined in on the teasing. But he didn’t.” Your friend looked satisfied with their theory. You hummed, considering their arguments.

“I guess you have a point,” you said, emphasising the word guess to signify your still present doubts.

“Trust me, you’ll see him again next week,” they caught the glare from the same librarian and lowered their voice, “or sooner!” They gave you a wide, encouraging smile. You sincerely hoped that would be the case. Only time could tell.

-  

The days got increasingly colder as your semester went on. It was a Wednesday morning, and though you only had one fairly short class today, it wasn’t a day you particularly enjoyed as you and your friend were in separate classes, yours being in the afternoon. You’d accompany your friend to the campus, and waiting alone was no fun task. Yes, you could use this time to be productive and study, but you’d much rather watch people out of the grand window of the main building, your eyes following random figures as they bustled around, getting to wherever they needed to be. Yes, maybe you were using this time to spot a familiar mess of blonde hair, but you wouldn’t admit that to anybody. Not even yourself. You took out your phone to check the time, groaning when you saw you still had at least 2 hours to waste. You tapped your fingers on your knee, pondering your next move. Maybe you should study a bit.

You lifted yourself with a sigh, readjusting your new pumpkin hair pins for good measure and headed for the revolving doors. The cold air slammed into you as soon as you stepped out, the temperature shock being so severe that you had to give yourself a second to calm your watering eyes. You fixed up your scarf to cover up more of your neck, setting your destination for the library. Before you could even take a few in your desired direction, something made you stop in your tracks.

“Hey!! Pumpkin!!” a certain someone shouted across the small, busy, university square. Your head swivelled around far too quickly, subconsciously finding too much identification with the nickname. Your eyes were wide when you spotted Atsumu surrounded by a group of friends, amongst which you only recognised Bokuto, who gave you a grin. Atsumu waved at you casually, apparently not finding an issue with publicly labelling you with such a cute nickname. The group seemed equally unfazed, as if used to his antics, though their eyes were trained on you with a certain curiosity. Atsumu had a sly smile on his face when he saw your blush, even at a distance. Bokuto eagerly beckoned you over, to which you looked to Atsumu for confirmation. He coaxed you to come with a nod of his head, his hands comfortable in his pockets. You covered the lower half of your face with your scarf in an attempt to hide your warm blush and made your way over to the group. You were greeted with nods and quiet hellos, though they knew it was pointless as you and Atsumu had your eyes trained only on one another.

“Hey,” he spoke in that deep voice that made your face feel even hotter.

“Hey,” you replied, though you noticed your response was muffled by your scarf. You quickly tugged it down to speak clearly, at which he chuckled. “Hey.” you tried again. Atsumu’s gaze subtly drank in your appearance, definitely noting the new accessories in your hair. By now he figured this was an October exclusive, and he missed them already though November was still weeks away. Bokuto shoved himself between you and Atsumu, breaking the silent tension, not only between the two of you, but the whole group.

“Hello! My name is Bokuto, you already heard his name,” he pointed to Atsumu, but his eyes never left yours, “you are?” he looked at you expectantly, his golden eyes piercing through you. You blinked. Was he really his wingman? Or was he just very VERY excitable? You noticed he was also holding out his hand for a greeting handshake. You took it cautiously, alarmed at how his grip and shake almost rocked your entire body.

“Y/n,” you managed to stutter once his grip lessened. You didn’t catch the glint of jealousy in Atsumu’s eyes. He quickly moved in to take your now available hand. Your eyes shot up to meet him.

“Y/n,” he tested your name on his tongue, immediately loving the taste. “Nice to formally meet ya,” he put a teasing emphasis on the word formally, alluding to your first meeting. Your barriers regarding the embarrassing event finally seemed to break down, feeling comfort in his warm hands, accepting his teasing as non malicious. You giggled.

“Yes,” you agreed “nice to formally meet you,” you said with an equally playful tone. Atsumu tried to look unfazed at your smile, your giggling, the way your body language no longer looked so tense. Though to you he looked just as composed and relaxed as any other time, his friends could easily tell he was close to losing his cool. He noticed he was still holding your hand and quickly let go, but played it off by nonchalantly putting them back in his pockets.

Bokuto looked between the two of you. He knew Atsumu wanted to ask you to come to one of their games, but he didn’t want to scare you off by being too forward too soon. He could almost see the gears turning in his head, testing out the different scenarios and how to bring it up, whether to simply ask you to come, or to ask if you have any interest in volleyball, or to just casually bring it up and see how you respond. Before either Bokuto or Atsumu could speak up, someone else in the group spoke up.

“Where’s Hinata? We’re going to be late to the meeting.” grumbled a boy with a face mask, unbothered by the way it muffled his words.

“Ah, he must still be practicing in the gym,” explained Atsumu, taking out his phone to check the time.

“What…” the masked boy frowned even more. Practicing? With who? The whole team was here. Surely he wasn’t just jumping around in an empty gym hall.

Your head tipped to the side in interest.

“Practice? What do you play?” You took in Atsumu’s build. You should have guessed he was some kind of athlete. His face brightened at the opportunity.

“Ah, volleyball,” he hummed.

“You should come watch us play some time!” Bokuto jutted in, his face slightly too close to yours. Atsumu grabbed the back of his hood to jerk him back. You let out a small laugh, finding it amusing how this is the second time Atsumu had to control Bokuto. He tried to ignore the flutter in his chest when he heard you laugh, releasing the iron grip on his friend.

“Definitely,” his voice was almost a purr. You swallowed and nodded. His demeanour went back to bright and playful, “perfect, I’ll let ya know when somethin  comes up.” You nodded again as if in a trance, making him smile fondly. He quickly checked the time again and turned to go. “See ya ‘round then, yeah?” he said with a wave. You waved in response.

“Just don’t cheer when he serves.” said the masked boy sternly before he went to follow the retreating group. His voice sent an unpleasant shiver down your spine. It seemed like a threatening warning rather than friendly advice on sports etiquette. You turned back in the direction of the library, not wanting to stare at the group until they disappeared. Your walk to your destination seemed a haze. You wondered when you’d hear from him again, and cursed at yourself for not asking him for his phone number. There’s always next time, you thought to yourself.

You gathered your notes, breathing a sigh of relief as your long morning lecture finally came to an end. You loved your course, of course. You wouldn’t be paying to study it at university if you didn’t, but you had to admit a three hour lecture on a Monday morning could feel more like a chore than a passion.. Your best friend and faithful study buddy joined your side as you grabbed your fleece lined denim jacket and shrugged it on, slinging your bag over your shoulder, eager to leave. Before you step forward, your friend stops you in your tracks.

“Hold on, your hair clip is all crooked,” they attempt to fix it, but instead unclip it and hand it to you instead. You take your Halloween pumpkin decoration and clip it back into your hair, posing a little for your friend, wordlessly asking how does it look? 

“Perfectly spooky” they said with a thumbs up. You and your friend had a shared tradition of wearing Halloween accessories throughout October in celebration of the best and spookiest holiday. Today you wore a small, sparkly yet quaint pumpkin clip in your hair, whilst your friend opted for some novelty socks. You thank your lecturer as you leave, yet the second the two of you left the room and were out of earshot, your friend sighed loudly and began to whine about this section of your shared course.

“Did you get ANY of that?” they asked as you headed for the doors that led to the staircase.

“Which part? We covered quite a bit.” you respond idly, pushing the doors open and letting them pass first. 

“ALL OF IT. Ugh, I miss our lecturer from last year, he made everything so much clearer.” they continued to complain as you started to make your way down the stairs after them. After a few steps, lost in conversation regarding the class, you accidentally misplaced your footing on the stairs. Your breath hitched. The next few seconds seemed to slow down to a painful crawl as you felt every sensation in detail; the way you didn’t feel the security of the next step beneath your foot, the way your centre of gravity shifted and tipped you forward, the way your stomach dropped and your eyes shut instinctively to avoid looking at the quickly approaching ground, the way a hand caught a firm grip on the back of your jacket’s collar, keeping you suspended in mid fall.

Huh?

Your eyes blinked open, heart hammering as the lights suddenly seemed too bright, every sense amplified from shock. You immediately notice you didn’t feel the harsh impact that you were expecting. Instead, you felt a tension around your neck and shoulders as your jacket was pulled taut to keep you somewhat upright. Your friend’s eyes were equally wide with surprise, not having time to ask if you’re ok before their eyes shifted to the figure behind you. Their stunned expression was met with a deep chuckle, one you felt rumble through you as they pulled your form back to press ever so gently against their chest, hand placed firmly on your shoulder now, as if to prevent you from falling again. You turned your head to thank whoever caught you, though given they were quite a bit taller than you, you had to slightly twist your body out of their grip to face them (though you noticed their hand moved from holding your shoulder to resting against your arm). 

If your face wasn’t hot from embarrassment already, it sure was now. Your thank you was caught in your throat when you turned to face your mysterious saviour. You definitely heard a quiet wow go through your head when you were met with warm, amused brown eyes, and a smile that melted into another round of chuckling as his hand left your arm to brush through a mass of bleached yet brilliantly blonde hair. He seemed… somewhat familiar, but you didn’t recognise him from any of your classes. Either way, your heart was flooded with relief that he happened to be behind you. You took in more of his appearance; the way his dark eyes looked as though they were liquid honey when the light hit them just right, and the way his dark green hoodie matched said eyes perfectly, and the way… those glowing eyes followed yours as his humoured expression altered, a new kind of tone present in his smile, one which made you realise you were staring at him as though he was made of gold. You quickly snapped out of it, your face growing even hotter for having been caught looking at him for so long without even saying thank you.

“Sorry- I mean, thank you,” you stuttered. The boy before you smiled again and let out a pleased hum. His eyes caught the sparkly, Halloween themed clip in your hair. Cute, he thought to himself as his eyes met yours yet again.

“No worries, ya just need to be more careful, Pumpkin,” he mused. The nickname made you flush yet again as you tore your eyes away from his intense gaze. This interaction seemed to last forever. “Do you need me to walk you down the stairs? We’ve still got quite a bit to go,” he teased, though his voice didn’t seem to be laced with the malice of a typical bully. He sounded playful. 

“No, thank you,” you responded curtly, walking down the last few steps to where your friend still stood. Their eyes glinted with entertainment and poked you in the side. You lightly slapped their hands away and nudged them to continue down the last set of stairs.

“Well, I’m right behind ya if ya need me,” he said leisurely, walking a couple of steps behind you. You didn’t respond, only walked in embarrassed silence as your friend tried (and failed) to hold back their giggles at the boy’s comment. He had a proud grin on his face, basking in the attention and laughs from your traitorous friend. The journey down seemed to last a century, but eventually you made it down safely. Heading out the double doors, you breathed in the crisp Autumn air as it cooled your warm cheeks. You readjusted your jacket as you and your friend regrouped. You avoided their eyes, though in the process you caught the attention of Stair Boy. He flashed you a smile and waved as he passed the pair of you.

“See ya ‘round, Pumpkin.” 

You watched him till he turned a corner and disappeared behind a building, after which you promptly slammed your face into your palms, muttering incoherent nonsense as your friend finally lost it and doubled over and cried with laughter. You groaned, dragging your hands down your face, tugging your lower eyelids and cheeks with dismay.

“Oh my Goddddd, I can’t believe that just happened” you whined, growing more and more annoyed with your friend’s incessant laughter. “OKAY I get it, it was funny, shut up now.” you snapped. Your friend started walking as they took deep breaths to calm down. You followed, arms crossed.

“Okay, I’m sorry, you just really. You really FELL FOR HIM,” they managed to choke out as they spiralled into another fit of laughter. You punched their arm.

“He was BEHIND me! I couldn’t have fallen for him if he was behind me, I didn’t even see him!” You exclaimed as you tried to defend yourself, waving your arms around madly trying to illustrate your point.

“Alright, alright… Pumpkin,” they teased. Had you not been outside, you would have thrown a shoe at your supposed best friend. They saw anger flash in your eyes and dodged your oncoming attacks as they ran away a giggling mess. You chased them a few meters then jogged to a stop, panting in the burning cold air. You waved an arm with a dismissive whatever. The two of you approached one of the campus cafes, the entrance adorned with paper bats, window sills draped in cotton cobwebs and the door guarded by a pair of crudely carved pumpkins. The two of you entered, the door’s usual bell drowned out by chatter that filled the small, cosy space. You flopped into one of the seats, shrugging off your now infamous jacket and rested your chin in your hands, letting out a long sigh. Your friend sat beside you, mirroring your actions. 

“Well, hey, at least no one else saw,” your friend bargained, attempting to lift your low mood.

“True,” you admitted nonchalantly, your eyes still trained on the wall before you. Your friend elbowed your side playfully,

“And he was cute, too,” they quipped. This caused you to groan and lay your head on the table. After a few miserable seconds you turned to face your friend, not lifting your head from the wooden surface,

“Yeah, he was” you agreed with a pout on your face. “And now he’s gonna think I’m a clumsy fool forever and I’m probably never ever gonna see him again.” You planted your face back on the table in defeat. Your friend, on the other hand, shrugged in response. 

“You never know, y/n. Sure the campus is big, but he WAS in our block today, so you might see him again. On Mondays at least,” they suggested. You sighed and rested your chin on the table, shoulders slumped.

“Yeah, maybe, I guess… maybe,” you mumbled. 

“Besides, he definitely thought you were cute too.” This made your head shoot up in curiosity a little too fast. You tried to feign disinterest when you asked,

“What makes you say that?” you looked at your friend expectantly when they gave you a look.

“Pumpkin. Seriously?”

“Ugh,” you gave them another dismissive wave, “That didn’t mean anything. That was only because of this stupid clip.” You pointed to the orange ornament on your head.

“Y/n. He said it twice. Besides, he could have called you nothing at all. Not to mention, didn’t you see the way he looked at you?”

“It just seems like he was teasing me and messing around,” you argued. Your friend sighed and turned to pull a notebook and pens out of their bag.