Slipping Through My Fingers || PT 2
Character: Oikawa X Reader
A/N: I tried my best at making a part 2. Just know I wrote this with my little goblin fingers and posting it and now its everyone else's problem
I looked at the two lines on my grandmother’s face that occupied space around her mouth, more wrinkles had formed around her eyes and her eyebags had certainly darkened. I knew just how much time had passed, but, for some reason, I hadn’t noticed how much she had aged until I had gotten the chance to face-time her for this long. It made me wonder just how much of my life had really passed by since I left. I swiped my hand over my face as I let out a heavy sigh and flopped back onto the comfort of my bed and curled up onto my side. “Take care grandma, I’ll be there soon,” I said my goodbye and let the silence envelope the room. My grandfather had a full life. He lived with no regrets, ate and drank what he wanted, worked hard and had a loving family and a supportive wife. I thought back to those 5, maybe 6 odd years before I made it here. The people I had left behind, they had changed so much. I wondered if I had changed too.
A face that I wanted to forget flashed inside my head and I groaned in frustration while rolling onto my back and placing my arm over my eyes, the other playing with the necklace on my chest. “It’s been years Toru. They broke up with you,” I tried to remind myself as I forced myself to pack a suitcase and tried to convince myself that the passing of my grandfather was the only reason that I was going back.
The welcome wasn’t as warm as I was hoping as the harsh winter snow coated the floor. Things felt stagnant for a while after the funeral. I felt twice as empty, staying in the house of the town I no longer wanted to call home. “You look miserable uncle Toru,” Takeru teased and I ruffled his hair in response. “Yeah I’m miserable you’ve gotten so big already,” I tried to joke back. “I’m not gonna stay small forever you know.” He grinned and I shook my head. “What a shame, you were cuter when you were smaller,” I teased right back and smirked at him whining in protest. I made my way to the door, grabbing my coat and putting on some shoes. “I’m going for a walk, tell your mom I’ll be back in a bit-” “Bring back something for me,” He demanded and I scoffed. “You got most of all the things I brought back,” I retaliated as I closed the door. He still had some of his spoiled, childish ways. I guess sometimes old habits die hard.
Like most things I had noticed, there weren’t many drastic changes to the tiny town we resided in, most if it remained the same, save for the odd color changes of buildings and the renaming of stores. I shivered as a gust of icy wind rushed through the streets, my teeth chattering as I hastily took a step inside the closest store to escape the cold, the chime from the door bringing welcome greetings as I rubbed my hands together. The scent of hot cocoa and coffee filled my nose and as I looked around, before rolling my eyes at the location. Ofcourse, fate had to lead me to one of the last places I ever wanted to see again in this life. My eyes landed on the all too familiar table that was occupied by a mother and their child, the last memory of being inside the cafe opening up a dark chamber of my mind that I wished would remain shut.
“Toru?” I blinked and I was 18 again and the pain in my chest flaring up and suddenly I didn’t feel so cold anymore. My stare lingered on the figure before me, not knowing how to process the time catching up to me and my heartbeat abusing my ribcage. I guess I never got over it. “It’s nice to see you. It’s been so long.. When did you get back?” They asked and my words caught in my throat. I wasn’t sure what I wanted my first words to them to be. Wasit nice to see them? I pondered for a second too long and they noticed the shock on my face. “A few days ago,” I informed them, forgoing the greeting. I couldn’t decide if it was nice to see them. “My grandfather passed.” That was the only reason I was there. I reminded myself. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. My condolences to you and your family,” they prattled on as I scanned them. The same voice, the same hair, the same lips, the same cautious kindness that warmed me from the inside. “While you’re here, if you get some time, we should catch up,” they pitched the idea and I considered it for a second. “Are you busy now?” I watched them as they shook their head slowly, the both of us clearly just as shocked as the other.
‘This is a mistake,’ I thought to myself as we both rattled our brains for something to say to the other. I simmered in the silence as I absentmindedly twirled the warm coffee cup in my hand as I stole a glance at them. They looked nervous. They should be, they were the one that broke me; broken us.
“How are you? Apart from your grandfather? I know how much he meant to you.” They broke the silence first, and I was adamant to not reply and make the conversation more uncomfortable than it already was, but I decided to hold the lava from spilling over. There wasn’t anything that I could gain from erupting years later. “I’m fine,” I replied with a shrug, watching them nod, the eye contact making them shy away from me, their entire body shifting to lean on their left side. “Is this what we’re just going to do? Sit and chat like we’re friends?” I sipped my coffee and they sniffled. “I’m sorry, all those years ago, I was afraid to commit,” They cried softly, using the heel of their palm to wipe the tears, their glasses getting in the way. “And I was just the unlucky bastard back then huh?” I rolled my eyes, trying to not let the sight of them in tears get to me. A part of my heart would always belong to them. “I waited for a call, or a text. I kept hoping that you would eventually show up,” They whimpered and I found it hard to believe. “That’s a bit selfish isn’t it? You broke up with me,” I recalled the incident and they sighed heavily. “Why didn’t you reach out to me? I was hurting so much, I almost got sent back home.” That was the first time that I had ever revealed that to anyone. “I wanted to give you time. You walked away so angry, I didn’t want to make it worse. I mean, could you blame me? We were young and you were going to be gone for a long time and in a foreign place. I was so insecure of myself I didn’t know what to do so I panicked.” I listened to their words and tried to process the truth behind it. “But I’m glad that you moved on and we can still talk like this here today, even if you hate me.” They sobbed softly and I thanked whatever God that was watching over us right now that the cafe was empty.
A thick silence fell upon the two of us as I thought about what I could say next as I watched them dry the tears on their cheeks. “I could never hate you,” I admitted softly and exhaled, reaching into my shirt to tug the piece of jewelry out for them to see. “I wore this everyday since I left.” I sported the necklace with two rings. “You know, I was so angry, I thought I would get over you but, anyone that I saw, they weren’t you. I hated myself for it. I thought about you everyday but I never reached out because I wanted you to hurt the same way that you made me hurt,” I inhaled sharply, my breath ragged as the lava overflowed but, rather than a hot anger, I felt the coolness of relief relax my shoulders. It felt like I was finally letting out a secret that I had kept bottled for far too long. “I never moved on. I can’t move on,” I scoffed bitterly as they eyed the necklace. It then occurred to me, what were we even doing here? What was the point of this entire conversation? For closure or for us to just admit that we were stupid? Or to subject myself to more pain?
“Are you saying that you still love me?” They brought me out of my train of thought and I swallowed the thickness in my throat and nodded. “There won’t be anyone else for me besides you,” I declared and as we both stood, I felt a part of me fit snugly right where it belonged, my face in the crook of their neck, my arms circling their waist, lost in time as I felt like myself for the first time in so many years. As we pulled away I was taken by surprise at the bold press of their lips to mine. They tasted like chamomile tea on a rainy day, the softness of their lips taking me back to us kissing for the first time outside the school gym. I was twice as nervous and kissed them without thinking; good thing Iwaizumi had caught us before the coach did.
A year and a half later, we exchanged vows together in an entirely new country on the beach, our family and friends celebrating by our sides. Slipping away from the noise to get some time to ourselves for the first time that day, we walked along the shore of the beach, the gentle waves rushing over our feet as we strolled. I watched them marvel at the few stars that lined the sky and if I didn’t know then, I knew now; whatever we went through, I would never regret loving them, not now, not ever, especially in this lifetime.
