Genya and watermelon

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Okay, so I've finished that other artwork, I guess, but I'm letting it wait for a while before posting it in case I may want to fix something. But here's my very first fanart to LoP that I've made two months ago. There's a timelapse on my IG if anyone wants to see how it was made (pls don't insult me by telling it's a.i, I'm a pro, not a talentless loser) <3 I hope you like it because I've plastered it as wallpaper on all my devices, I'm so proud! I've already made Romeo and Sophia as well!

you'd always assumed that the one lyney liked was you. well, apparently you thought too much. warnings: gn! reader, unrequited love, modern au, angst no comfort wc: 0.4k  a/n: orz this sat in my drafts for about 4 months i couldn't find the words to get it out of my system😞 i wrote a lyney fic with a similar plot on my other blog, but the difference is that the last one was inspired by a song and this one was inspired by my own experiences LOL reblogs w/ tags & comments highly appreciated <3

okay. maybe you weren’t the best at reading social cues, but surely your interpretations wouldn’t be this far off, right?

wrong.

you stare, almost in dumbfounded amazement, at the periwinkle-eyed blond standing in front of you. “i’m sorry?”

“she agreed to go on a date with me! you know, the friend you introduced to me?” his eyes sparkle, “don’t you remember?”

“ye-yeah, i remember...”

seriously? were your skills at reading social cues this bad?? weren’t you supposed to be the one he liked??? after all:

one. he was always the first to notice whenever you’d had a hard day. “are you okay?” he’d ask as he handed you the snack you once mentioned you were obsessed with in passing, finding his way to the spot next to you on the bench. “oh–” his eyes would widen in slight panic, “it’s totally fine if you’d rather not talk, um, just– i just thought you might feel better if you had, y’know, a friend with you, um, yeah...” and whether or not you chose to confide in him, just feeling his presence each time was enough to lift your spirits.

two. you were always the first one he sought out every time he figured out a new trick. “hey, guess what! remember that idea we had last week, the one with the hat and the aspic? i finally got it last night! wanna see?” and before you could even react, he’d already be pulling out his tools and spilling all the secrets right to you. though perhaps the even more fascinating magic trick was how he’d be able to talk for hours about a single trick without stopping.

three. for some reason, he seemed to adore seeking you out for spontaneous excursions. “c’mon,” he’d plead, his sad puppy eyes doing nothing to help you close your door in his face, “it’s gonna be a once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon! you’ll never see a view like this ever again!” “lyney, that was what you said last year. meteor showers happen every year.” though you already had one foot out the door, slipping on a jacket, you’d always sigh. and he’d always pout, still tightly holding onto your wrist. “but it’s gonna be different! the vibe’s gonna feel different because we’re gonna be, well, watching it from a different place! don’t you trust me?” of course you trust him. you’d trust him with your life if you had to.

you’re back to staring at the boy who unknowingly stole your heart, and you can’t find the words to describe your inner turmoil. but if he looked this happy, who were you to ruin it?

your lips almost tremble as you force it into what you hope to be an encouraging smile.

“good luck, lyney. don’t mess up.”

“i won’t, i promise! don’t you trust me?” 

You sometimes just need fluff and not smut.