gabe

𝖣𝖨𝖫𝖴𝖢 | 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 <𝟥 | 𝟫𝟢𝟣 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

when diluc walked into the classroom and didn’t spot you eating your lunch with your friend group, he already had a pretty good idea of where he could find you. 

as exam season was approaching faster than most students could catch up on months and months of studying material, diluc knew that you were, as per usual, over-exerting yourself to get the results you oh-so desired. 

which eventually led to sleepless nights and terrible eating habits.

diluc wasn’t close enough to you to know about any of that. he just so happened to hear that from your friends when he couldn’t find you anywhere last semester, realizing that this might be more of a routine than he had imagined. 

diluc, in fact, barely ever talked to you. 

he was satisfied with being a simple bystander, admiring you from afar. as far as possible, given the fact that you were in the same class for the next couple of years. but diluc never imagined he would be foolish enough to dismiss the greed that was slowly growing inside of him, seeking out your presence in every setting until the simple habit of staring at you from across the room wasn’t enough for him anymore. 

“of course it wouldn’t be,” his brother had sighed at him after a rare moment of vulnerability during which he opened up about the storm his heart was braving. 

“God, i could count the amount of times you’ve talked to her on one hand, diluc,” kaeya had pressed, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if his aggravated him more than his sibling. “a single hand.”

diluc had only brushed him off with a snarky remark.

it was frustrating. how he couldn’t find the same comfort he’s always been content with, watching you cheerfully chat away with your circle of friends or study in the library while he’d get too distracted to complete his own work. 

the realization that he desired nothing else but your attention had befallen him a few days ago, all thanks to his dear brother who had no difficulty reading him.

it felt a bit stupid. a bit pathetic. a bit lamentable. how he was seeking something so close yet so out of reach. and the only obstacle in his way being himself and his damn self-loathing, preventing him from taking any unnecessary, risky steps.

and while he knew why he wasn’t stepping out of his comfort zone, he’d rather die than admit it to kaeya. death would be sweeter than admitting that rejection was a word that inspired more fear in him than any math test their cruel teacher could ever concoct.

it was terrifying, really. rejection was an unwanted guest that could visit him if he even dared to come any closer than he had already allowed himself to - which wasn’t a lot, truth be told. 

and despite it all, despite all those thoughts raging in the depths of his mind, diluc still found himself walking up to the storage room at the last floor of the building. 

stepping into it quietly, he couldn’t help the small smile painting his lips as he found you exactly as he had pictured you’d be. sat on the floor, asleep, lips parted while your chest rose up and down slowly with every breath you took. a few strands of your hair fell over your face, the necktie of your uniform loosened up. 

carefully, diluc closed the door behind him before making his way towards you, crouching next to your peaceful form. gently, he draped his uniform’s jacket over your shoulders. while it wasn’t this cold, he knew you weren’t taking enough care of yourself to risk sleeping on the floor with nothing to protect you from the chilly breeze. 

and maybe it was how unfamiliarly close he had gotten. or maybe it was the endless months of pining after you. but diluc had, for once, allowed his heart to dictate his actions before his mind cound interfere.

tender, callused fingers brushed soft strands of hair away from your face. and he found himself, yet again, enamored by the very sight of you. 

you were just too pretty for his poor teenage heart. 

so pretty that his hands itched with the urge to cup your face. to caress the plushness of your cheeks. to trace the sweetness of your features. 

that was definitely his cue to leave the room. not if he wanted to do something extremely stupid.

carefully, making sure you wouldn’t wake up from your slumber, diluc brought the strand of hair he was playing with to his lips, closing his eyes, as if to cherish the moment a bit longer. 

you threw a quick glance to the presence by your side, all the feelings you had stored in the depths of your heart crawling up your neck and painting your cheeks in shades of shyness. you prayed that he didn’t catch the shortness of your breath, shutting your eyes closed almost as fast as you had opened them. 

it took everything within you to not move or dare speak up, waiting until the person you were so infatuated with had finally stepped out of the storage room. 

and it took everything within diluc to not step back into that damn room, leaning against the door as he shut it behind him. cluelessly staring into nothing as both your hearts raced in unison. 

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

𝖠𝖩𝖠𝖷 | 𝗄𝖺𝖻𝖾𝖽𝗈𝗇 :𝗉 (𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗈 𝗂 𝗌𝖺𝗐 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗂𝗄𝗍𝗈𝗄) | 𝟪𝟦𝟥 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

ajax knew he was insufferable. 

he knew your patience ran thin every time you could spot his ginger hair somewhere in the crowd - and how easy was it to spot when he was the only one in the damn school with such a fiery hair color. 

it was so easy to get on your nerves and ajax loved nothing else more than watching your cheeks burn red with anger – maybe embarrassment – as you found the most creative ways to insult him without ever letting a single swear word slip past your lips.

you were so cute, he thought, craning your neck just to glare at him and trying to appear as threatening as you could. 

but ajax could only deem every attempt of yours as a failure. you resembled a small angry animal.

“you’re like a kitty,” he had once told you, earning himself a well-deserved slap to his arm. 

it wasn’t enough to deter him from continuing, claiming that the way you were so cold yet so affectionate was just so adorable. 

nothing was ever enough to deter him from playing with your last nerve.

“aw, c’mon, you must have a crush,” ajax said playfully, looking down at you with that stupid smirk of his. 

you didn’t know what brought this on. you didn’t care to know either.

and so, you only rolled your eyes, turning your back to him as you walked away from him. 

but of course, the stupid ginger was, as always, following you around in the hallway. it was such a familiar sight to your classmates that none of them dared interfere with your daily banter and disputes (although mostly one-sided).

“i don’t,” you grumbled under your breath, mourning the peace you had been dreaming about since, well, this morning. 

God forbid a girl wants to eat alone.

and besides, there was absolutely no way in hell you were ever going to admit to ajax of all people that you were hopelessly in love with him. 

that your stupid heart beat at the simple sight of him. that every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about him and what you two could be if you would just be more open about your feelings. 

“i mean, if you could stop being so mean and stubborn with him, maybe that whole mess would progress,” your friend had told you when you were grumbling about the gingerhead.

and of course, you ignored her advice.

it was just too scary, you reasoned. what if he didn’t reciprocate your feelings? what if the constant teasing and nagging and clinging to your side was nothing but a pastime for him?

“liar,” ajax said in a sing-song voice, bringing you back to the present moment. 

he nearly bumped into you when you stopped walking. 

“you’re a terrible liar,” he teased, watching with amusement how you needed a second to close your eyes, take a deep breath before turning around to, once again, glare at him. 

so cute. 

“what do you even know, tartaglia?” you spat back at him, folding your arms over your chest. 

you hated him. 

how his pretty looks had your mind reeling. and the teasing tone in his voice was enough to make you want to puke your guts out. you felt too much around him, a whirlwind of anger and longing and irritation and yearning. 

“even if i had one,” you added, cocking your eyebrow mockingly at him, “you’re not even close to finding out.” 

you tilted your chin up, almost defyingly.

and you’ve never looked sweeter to ajax.

your heart stopped beating for a dangerous second when a low chuckle spilled past ajax’s lips, making your expression falter for a split second. 

your ears burned red with embarrassment at your reaction. 

so mortifying, you thought, getting affected by such a small thing. 

seemingly, ajax wasn’t satisfied with simply toying with your very sanity using a few words and glances. 

seemingly, ajax had decided to take his little game a step further.

a huge step further. 

he pushed onto your shoulder lightly, his arm snaking around your waist, preventing you from falling backwards and successfully trapping you between his taller frame and the wall behind you. 

you found yourself speechless, unable to even form a single thought. 

your eyes were as wide as saucers, cheeks hot and scorching. 

ajax could have sworn this was the cutest expression he’d ever seen you wear since you’ve met one another. 

and his face was just so, so close to yours you could count the constellation of freckles on his dusty pink cheeks. it was so easy to notice how long his lashes were, how soft his lips seemed to be. and you wondered if they tasted as sweet as they looked for a split second. 

noticing where your gaze went, ajax could only huff out a laugh, his finger caressing your red cheek. 

you flinched a little, your usually irritated expression melting into a shyer one as a taunting whisper slithered its way into your mind. 

“is this close enough?”

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

𝖫𝖸𝖭𝖤𝖸 | 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 >.< | 𝟨𝟩𝟤 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

lyney was good with crowds. 

with his yearly magic shows during school festivals since middle school, his popularity and how easygoing he was, lyney was quite literally born to be on stage. his ability to keep the crowd on its toes with his breathtaking stages and thrilling performances was truly commendable and his number of admirers never ceased to increase. 

lyney was good with words as well. flowery words spilled past the barrier of his lips like second nature, captivating the crowd with both his honeyed voice and his pretty face, leaving them speechless and - almost like hypnosis - prompting them to give him nothing but a standing ovation at the end of each and every show he gave. 

lyney, despite his incredible talents, was, at the moment, wordless. 

this year’s school festival has come to an end, the last hours reserved to the students only. while the sun burned away in the horizon to leave its place for the moon, the guests left the school grounds. a campfire burned in the yard, music flowing through the chilly night air. while couples and friends danced around the flames burning away, lonelier souls gathered together a bit afar from the light to discuss this year’s events and reminisce on the fun they had or missed out on. 

on the rooftop, lyney stood before you, eyes wandering anywhere but towards your figure. he looked at the night sky, gazed at the stars with anxiety swimming in his lavender pools. his hands were a bit clammy - a sensation he wasn’t used to. he shouldn’t be nervous, he told himself. it wasn’t the first time he felt this way around you though. 

sweaty palms, racing heart, shortness of breath, nervousness and butterflies flocking around the pit of his stomach. all of the symptoms pointed towards lovesickness. 

well, lovesickness was a bit dramatic. 

lyney was smitten, more accurately. 

he caught the love bug as his sister, lynette, had put bluntly while they were rehearsing a couple of weeks ago. 

but it felt like a fever. spending his dreams with you until he woke up confused and alone in his bed, staring up at the ceiling with shame covering his cheeks in shades of red. your name spiraling in his mind until he was too dizzy to focus on his homework. 

lyney thought that the far-fetched words people used to describe him would be more believable if they were employed to talk about you instead. 

bewitching, enthralling, enchanting, mesmerizing, charming- and the list went on and on. 

so, spellbound and forced into silence by your presence, lyney could only stare at the sky to avoid your eyes in fear of falling into a pit he’d never find his way out of. not that he really minded, if he thought about it a bit longer. 

“lyney?” terrible choice of words. 

the magician caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his ears tingling as the melodious sound of your voice reached them. his name sounded so sweet on your lips. and he wondered if they could be sweeter. 

he shook his head, feeling heat slowly crawling up his neck. 

“i’m sorry i-” a gulp. a pause. 

what was he even supposed to say? magically make his heart appear in the palm of his hands and offer it to you? maybe he should’ve simply sent you a letter with a dove he could make appear with a simple flick of his fingers. perhaps a small letter and his signature rainbow rose on your desk would have sufficed. 

but now that he was trapped here with you, lyney decided to simply clutch onto the last threads of his courage, finally uttering the three little, heavy words. 

as if on cue, fireworks erupted behind him, casting pink and orange lights over your confused expression and he cursed yoimiya at the back of his mind. 

“what was that?” you asked, tilting your head to the side with a small chuckle, “i didn’t get a word.”

and what a cruel liar you were. 

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

𝖷𝖨𝖠𝖮 | 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗂𝗇𝗀’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 !!! | 𝟪𝟣𝟤 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

it was no secret to anyone that you had a crush on xiao. 

well, maybe only the star basketball player of your high school had no idea of the feelings you bore for him.

he wasn’t dense per se. in fact, he was not only an amazing athlete but he also scored amongst the top grades in the entire campus, second only to albedo.

yet, he didn’t seem to have caught onto your very obvious infatuation for him. he was used to having girls flocking around him during his practices and breaks, barely addressing any of them and it sometimes led you to think that he probably viewed you the same way. 

you shook your head, trying to get those thoughts out.

you had an advantage : not only were you best friends with his step-sister, hu tao, but you also became friends with him! something hu tao had to reiterate to you a couple hundred times because he doesn’t bother with people he doesn’t care about, so you might actually have a chance with him! 

with those thoughts in mind, and a little smile curling your lips up, you walked into the gymnasium where the high school’s team was practicing for an upcoming inter-school tournament. 

you swung around your little bag, filled with cookies you had baked this morning before almost missing your bus. 

not wanting to be too obvious about your intentions (although everyone in the damn club knew the reason behind your diligent attendance to their practice), you made sure to pack enough for the whole team – and even for the coach! 

the air was a little colder as winter was approaching and you started regretting not wearing the scarf your mom was chastising you about for the past week. the only excuse you had found to not wear the ridiculously long neckerchief was because ‘it wouldn’t match the aesthetic of my fit mom!’ 

exasperated, especially since said ‘fit’ was just your school uniform styled in a cuter way, she had only rolled her eyes and let you go. at least, if you ever caught a cold, it’d be during the upcoming holidays. 

you hummed a happy tune, joyfully ignoring the little voice screaming in your head that you probably should go back home and study for your midterms that would take place in less than two weeks rather than waste your time trying to woo the unwoo-able. 

as you pushed the doors open, the sounds of sneakers hitting the linoleum floor became clearer. 

you could spot the team’s coach, beidou, blow into her whistle when venti messed up yet again, pulling a smile on your lips. 

it didn’t take too long for you to spot xiao, in the background as usual, observing everything that was taking place on the terrain before making any move.

he was very calculating in his actions, never jumping in the face of anything before taking a second to think it through – and he was a quick-thinker, easily making decisions that have always brought his team to victory. 

he wasn’t the team’s best player for nothing, often going toe to toe with scaramouche who was just as competitive, making the practice matches a bit more passionate and a bit more intense than they should be. 

it worked in their favor though, attracting students from all classes to their training sessions and, eventually, to their matches, keeping the club and its reputation amongst other schools alive. 

you looked away when a pair of amber eyes caught yours, boring into you in such a destabilizing way, it nearly had you tripping over nothing. 

you spotted the bench next to the coach, deciding that maybe you should take a seat and share some sweets with her. 

but of course, nothing happened as planned. and everything occurred in such a fast-paced way you could barely register all of it. 

the only thing you were able to process was the arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the toned chest you were pressed against, the way xiao was glaring at venti – who only offered a wink, sticking his tongue out while scratching the back of his head as an apology – as a basketball laid in his hand, the sound of the impact resonating around the gymnasium. 

the bag in your hands had fallen to the floor unbeknownst to you and you could hear a pin drop from how silent everyone was, big eyes staring at the both of you. 

“are you okay?” xiao finally asked you.

and maybe you were crazy but it was almost as if his eyes had softened and his tone was laced with concern. 

stupidly, you nodded without a sound.

the star player smiled down at you, huffing out a small laugh at the cute expression on your face. and you were way too enamored to even care about your crumbled cookies.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

𝖲𝖢𝖠𝖱𝖠𝖬𝖮𝖴𝖢𝖧𝖤 | 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 <//𝟥 | 𝟣.𝟤𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

scaramouche has never been this irritated in his life. 

the simple sound of heizou’s stupid voice had him clenching his teeth and his fingers gripping at the pen in his hand hard enough to almost bend and break it. and the sound of your laughter following whatever that dumb red-head was saying didn’t help his case. 

“y’look like you’re about to kill someone,” mona commented, looking up from the report they were working on. 

scara didn’t reply, simply rolling his eyes – whether at her or the scene occurring behind her, it didn’t matter. he should be focusing on his group project. he should be wrapping up his part of the report so they could put everything together and hand it to their history teacher. 

but despite his best effort, he couldn’t help the way his eyes were drawn to your direction, how claws dug their way up his ribcage and grabbed ahold of his heart and squeezed.

hard enough to puncture it. 

it felt childish, really, how he was always left with a bitter taste whenever he spotted you walking alongside the bane of his very existence. ever since professor zhongli took the liberty of forming the groups himself, and ever since you had befriended heizou, kunikuzushi couldn’t help the whirlwind of emotions crashing onto him. 

he didn’t like how close the two of you have gotten, didn’t like how it was so easy for heizou to have you smile and laugh, how you were practically glowing around him. 

most of all, he didn’t like the way the very sight of the two of you together had a lump forming in his throat, feelings crawling up to the tip of his tongue, ready to spill them out at your feet.

he wasn’t sure what it was. anger and irritation and sadness and-

“you’re jealous,” kazuha commented after observing his friend for the past half hour. 

“what!?”

scara’s exclamation drew attention from all of their classmates – from you – as well as their teacher who had been busy sipping on his coffee and grading some papers. ashamed of his outburst, he muttered a small apology before lowering his head into his arm, glaring up at his platinum-haired friend, who was sitting next to him. 

said-friend simply shrugged his shoulders, smiling down innocently like he didn’t just open the doors of realization that scaramouche was stubbornly keeping closed and locked. 

and maybe it was because scaramouche had never been the most patient person to walk this planet, or perhaps it was the way his stomach turned and churned when he caught heizou pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. he didn’t really care how he even found the courage to do something about how he was feeling. all he cared about was your hand in his and finally, finally, hearing your voice calling it out to him. 

it was so easy to see how confused you were, eyebrows scrunched together as you called out to your friend, wondering what the hell was up with him this time.

you weren’t blind, nor deaf. you had noticed how nasty he was being to your group project partner, how he commented on everything he said or did, how he glared in his direction any chance he would get.

and while you weren’t one or the other, you were certainly dense because you had no clue why kunikuzushi would even act this way for no reason.

“what the hell, kuni!” you yelled, stumbling on your feet as he dragged you to the back of the school, not uttering out a single word the entire time. 

the sun was already setting, barely anyone roaming the hallways of the establishment, let alone the courtyards and gymnasium. it felt like it was just the both of you left.

“what is wrong with you!?” you asked again, this time even louder, glaring at the back facing you. 

you heard a sigh coming from him as he turned around and was about to protest about his attitude. but the look he gave you, the hurt flashing in the depths of those indigo pools of his, the vulnerability painted all over his porcelain-like features nailed you in place. rendered you speechless. and you wondered for a second if you weren’t being too harsh with him. if, maybe, you’d soften up your demeanor, he’d open up to you this time around. 

“i should be the one asking you that,” scaramouche muttered back, hurt turning to anger, his defenses shooting up from the ground, the crack he had opened up for you sealed tight once again.

as he finally came to a stop, his hand that was wrapped around your wrist pulled you, making you stumble on your feet. your face bumped onto his chest, a small pained noise escaping you. 

before you could begin to complain, kunikuzushi spoke up again.

“what’s up with you and that dumb red-head, anyways?” he questioned, the irritation in his voice noticeable. 

he didn’t let you respond to him, didn’t let you follow up with the snarky remarks that could rival his own. something inside him was about to burst, something he couldn’t hold back anymore. he couldn’t handle the idea of losing you to anyone, couldn’t bear the thought that the feelings he had been harboring all of these years for you were in vain. 

and kunikuzushi wasn’t stupid. he wasn’t dumb. he’s seen the way you looked at him. there was no mistaking the affection in your gaze, the gentleness in your words (at least, when you weren’t butting heads), the tenderness of your touch, although rare.

you handled his heart with such care, like it was precious to you. 

“when are you going to finally pay attention to me!?” kunikuzushi exploded, his voice loud enough to scare the little birds perched atop the trees surrounding the school building. 

the sudden outburst had your eyes widen in shock, looking at him like he’s grown a second head. you were met with a look mirroring yours, shock written on your friend’s features like he hadn’t expected those words to tumble out of his mouth. the back of his hand came up to his face, covering the bottom half of it in an attempt to hide the shame that had his cheeks burn red.

yet he didn’t back away, didn’t let up. 

“what the hell, kuni!” you yelled back at him again, feeling embarrassment crawl up your neck as well. 

it was almost comical, the way the both of you were just yelling back and forth, as if the volume of your voices would ever be able to mask the vulnerability spilling out of the cracks of the useless walls you had built around yourselves. 

“do you… do you like me or somethin’?” you asked after a few beats of silence. 

kuni didn’t answer, simply blinking dumbly at you.

he opened his mouth, before closing it.

he tried again, but his voice didn’t come out, yet again.

instead, his eyebrows furrowed, the furious blush coloring his cheeks spreading all the way to his ears and down his neck.

cute. 

“shut the hell up,” he muttered, turning his back to you. and yet, despite his words, his hand slid down your wrist, fingers intertwined with yours, deciding that, maybe, you two should go home for today. 

you didn’t say anything back, following along, looking down at your hands, a little self-satisfied smile playing along your lips as you heard him whisper his answer to you, as if the quietness of his voice would prevent his feelings from reaching you. 

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻

𝖪𝖠𝖹𝖴𝖧𝖠 | 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌 >//< | 𝟣.𝟥𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌

you weren’t good at keeping secrets. 

not that you’d blurt them out at any given chance or that you’d spill your friends’ secrets when they weren’t around, no. you just happened to be an extremely open book, so easy to read with a simple glance. while you hated it, your friends thought it was a cute trait, how honest and how incapable of lying you were. 

you’d disagree with them if they weren’t so stubborn. 

you hated how you were never able to hide anything from your parents as a kid – and even now. how you couldn’t lie about not doing your homework to your teachers. and you especially despised how you couldn’t do anything about your feelings spilling out of you before you could utter a word out. 

it just so happened that kaedehara kazuha was especially perceptive. it just so happened that he was very much observant. and it just so happened that he found you particularly interesting to watch.

the first time you had piqued his interest was due to your clumsiness. 

you were running in the hallways while a member of the disciplinary committee yelled at you for doing that. but you couldn’t care less. you were late to your club activity and the president, albedo, had warned you enough times for you to fear for your life despite his usual kind behavior.

without noticing, you had bumped into kazuha, dropping a few art supplies as you did so. 

“oh my- i’m so sorry,” you had scrambled to apologize, awkwardly half-bowing, half-trying to get to the floor and pick up your tubes of paint and brushes. 

a simple chuckle had answered your apology before you realized who exactly you had bumped into in your hurriedness. and a simple look up had you meeting eyes with amused crimson ones, hand extended to hand you a brush. 

blinking a few times, you had cleared your throat before grabbing ahold of the supply, your fingertips tingling as they brushed against his, the heat of the graze traveling through your arm, crawling up your neck and nestling in the apples of your cheeks. 

kazuha had noticed how you couldn’t utter a single word out, eyes catching onto the way your lips parted in failed attempts to thank him before you closed them, deciding to focus your energy on collecting your items. he hadn’t commented on it, helping you and telling you to be careful before watching you leave, running in the hallway while keqing yelled behind you to not do that, once again, to kazuha’s amusement. 

safe to say albedo was not pleased with your late arrival. 

the second time he questioned his feelings, kazuha knew he was not so indifferent to you. 

that day, he had stolen the chance away from hu tao – who was torn between hating him for keeping you away from her, and feeling happy for you to finally get closer to your crush – to pair up with you, this time in home ec class. and for this class, you were making brownies.

given your skills in baking, and your love for it, you had taken it upon yourself to do most of the job. not that you hated it, really, quite the opposite. and kazuha, accepting his fate of washing dishes and preparing the dish for the batter, didn’t mind watching you do something that you were passionate about. 

you looked adorable, blabbering about random facts about how to make the perfect fudgy brownies, discarding the terrible recipe your teacher had given you (your words, not his). while he adored the shyness in the way you interacted with him – cruelly enough – he couldn’t help but prefer this more comfortable, carefree version of you. 

you weren’t as self-conscious in his presence, weren’t as fidgety. 

“want some?” you had interrupted his train of thoughts, extending a wooden spoon coated in chocolate. 

he accepted it with a smile, noting the little stain on the side of your mouth. noting the trace your lips had left on the utensil. noting how realization slowly morphed on your face as his own lips wrapped around the chocolate-coated spoon. 

the remainder of the class, the way you’d keep some distance between the both of you wasn’t lost on him. nor was the way you’d shift on your feet, unable to stand still. or how you couldn’t meet his eyes. 

and kazuha wasn’t sure which version he preferred anymore. 

the third time, kazuha wished he wasn’t such a coward. 

befriending you wasn’t the hard part. going up to you in class whenever the teachers would require you to form groups, to your absolute bewilderment and friends’ surprise. or finding excuses to talk to you. pairing up with you during P.E class before hu tao could even think of getting with you. 

you didn’t mind, not at all. he was easy to talk to, carrying conversations most of the time and recounting stories of his travels, no thanks to his very adventurous adoptive mother, beidou. and while you prided yourself in knowing a lot about him, it was to your great surprise that you discovered how he’d take the same subway as you. 

which wasn’t true, he’d started taking it only to spend more time with you, although it was a longer way back home.

but you didn’t need to know that.

on a particularly busy evening, the both of you found yourself at the back of the train, your back against the cold surface while kazuha was holding onto the metal bar next to your head for dear life. the constant push, push, push, of the people behind him had led you both to your current predicament. 

you hadn’t dared look up for too long, eyes suddenly finding the tie of his uniform very much interesting. 

red, like his eyes, that were boring into you. like the color of embarrassment spreading all the way to your ears. 

your eyes followed the fabric up to the collar of his white shirt. up to the way his throat bobbed, nervous. up to meet his eyes and find him already staring back at you. you had noted the quiet intensity behind them, the slight nervousness in his chuckle, the pink hue his ears had taken, hidden behind strands of platinum.

but before you could allow yourself to even fantasize about your feelings being reciprocated, a strong shove from behind him had him fumble to find some support, his hand crashing beside your head, your face shooting up only to find his a bare inch away from yours. 

time came to a stop for a second. a shaky breath spilled past your parted mouth. you felt the brush of his lips against the edge of yours. whether he did it on purpose or not, you didn’t have the functioning brain cells to figure out anyway. 

kazuha could swear he felt the flutter of your lashes against his burning skin as you looked at him and away and at him and away and he was so tempted to just cup your face and keep you still. but he didn’t do none of that. he didn’t let the moment linger for more than necessary before he found support on his legs, standing straight once again. 

as if on cue, the train emptied out a bit, allowing him to take a few steps back. his fingers found his tie, pulling it down, weirdly unable to breathe comfortably despite the space left by the leaving passengers. 

“sorry about that,” he apologized, offering you a kind smile.

you didn’t answer, weren’t able to. if you so much as opened your mouth, you’d just tell him about how you wished he hadn’t stepped away, regardless of the public setting you were in. you’d just spill out how you wished he had taken the leap. 

and for once, kazuha was too busy simmering in his own mortification to notice the dejected look on your face. 

© mimi-sunny — all rights reserved

At the end of your first week, nearly the entire team had practically forced you to let them treat you to dinner – an official welcome into the deranged business known as the MSBY Black Jackal’s franchise. You had done well so far, all things considered. Sakusa knew from first hand experience that his teammates were not the easiest to get along with, but you seemed to be able to handle all of them with easy grace.

Sakusa hasn’t even had to complain about you once, and this was a fact that was quickly brought into the spotlight by the rest of the table.

“You should have seen the look on Omi’s face when Fujikawa-san scheduled him for an entire spread on GQ,” Bokuto nudged your shoulder, Sakusa cringing both at the mention of the old manager and at the force of which you flew to the side, “He nearly had an aneurysm right then and there!”

“You know what an aneurysm is?” Sakusa says coolly from above the rim of his beer, eyes slipping closed as he sipped and ignored Bokuto’s whining.

“That’s nothing,” Meian laughed, “Remember when Sakiyama-kun forgot to tell Sakusa that they were filming interviews in the locker room? That was the first time I ever heard him actually snap at someone.”

“At least it wasn’t directed at you,” Hinata groaned, dropping his forehead down onto the table, “When I first joined, he…”

The floodgates had been opened then, and if Sakusa had heard it once, he'd heard it a thousand times before.

When I first met Sakusa-san, I thought he was terrifying!

Be careful what you say around Omi, he can be a little grouchy sometimes.

Don’t worry about Sakusa-senpai, he likes to be difficult with everyone.

Omi-omi freaks me out, I never know what’s going on in his head!

Sakusa doesn’t enjoy being troublesome, he doesn’t like to be seen as strict and accommodating. He just likes things the way he likes them.

“I don’t think Sakusa-san is all that difficult,” you chuckled, “Maybe you guys are just having a hard time understanding him?”

You laugh out loud at the collective groan around the table, throwing your hands up in defense as everyone continues to try and prove you wrong. The desperate defamation of his character at the hands of the people he spends nearly all his time with should probably peeve him a little bit more than it does.

But you had stopped for a moment, and gave him a cheesy grin that lasted only for a blink, and for the first time in his life, Sakusa chased after the fleeting thought that maybe it wouldn’t kill him to be a little more agreeable.

He had kept this philosophy swimming somewhere in the back of his mind, and over the next few weeks, Sakusa could slowly feel a turn of the tide.

He no longer had to hunt down the janitor of the stadium every morning to open up the gym, always finding the door unlocked with a towel ready in his locker. He’d come back to a single banana and a bottle of that kombucha he absolutely hated but can’t seem to stop drinking placed innocently on top of his gym bag, and a note with a smiley face that didn’t need a signature for him to know who it’s from.

He was always placed in conference panels next to Atsumu and Bokuto, the two always eager to answer enough questions for Sakusa to avoid speaking too much into the mic. His training sessions were scheduled a half hour before everyone else’s, always giving him enough time to finish and get into the shower before the last black jackal could even step foot into the weight room.

The irritation he usually felt hiding beneath the surface of his demeanor had disappeared, and for some reason his coworkers all started speaking to him more. We

His life began to move forward as effortlessly as a well oiled machine, and it really didn’t take much for him to figure out why.

And it wasn’t as if you were giving him any special treatment. He knows you drive to the convenience store twenty minutes past the stadium because it’s the only one that carries Hinata’s favorite sport drink. You’ve shown him the dozens of fake twitter accounts you’ve made to tweet Bokuto good luck before every game. You make sure to steam Atsumu’s entire uniform before each game because a single wrinkle can throw him off the edge.

He sees you.

He was glad now for the part of him that Atsumu had found unsettling.

Because he wouldn’t want them to understand why he’s suddenly bringing an iced green tea with honey to work every morning and bringing it directly into the back offices. He doesn’t need Atsumu to figure out the reason why he started packing extra bentos for practice after seeing you work through lunch one too many times.

He allows them to think he stays later after games so he could have the locker room to himself, because that’s the way Sakusa’s always been, right? He’s gotta have things his way, or no way. And it definitely wasn’t because he wanted to wait for you to finish your work, and wanted to be the one to see you home safely.

He tells himself it’s simply out of kindness, to show his gratitude with what you’ve done. Who’s to take care of you after you’ve taken care of everyone else?

He wouldn’t mind if it was him.

He hopes you suffer from the same affliction as his teammates, unable to read the blank face hidden behind a plain white mask. He wouldn’t want you to think he likes the exasperated smile on your face when you see him waiting, or the excited hop in your step as you fall into pace with him. He doesn’t give away that he actually enjoys your ceaseless rambling, and that you never took offense to any of his teasing.

But something tells him that you understood anyway.

“Can you believe it’s been six months already?” You mentioned, sticking your hands deep into the pocket of your coat. Your steps were slow, feet dragging behind in a pace that Sakusa was more than willing to indulge.

He shook his head because no, he could hardly believe it’s only been six months, because he could hardly remember what his life was like before you walked in it.

But he doesn’t say that. Instead, he says, “We should celebrate.”

Your eyes brighten up at him with excitement, clapping your hands together with a big smile.

“Yay, let’s celebrate!” You cheer with a little pump of your fist, and Sakusa could feel the corners of his lips tug up into a smile.

“We should invite Shoyo and Atsumu, and the rest of the team! The karaoke bar down the street is open late, they’ll love that,” you say with such enthusiasm, Sakusa felt guilty for how fast his smile dropped to the ground.

He was thankful enough the mask on his face managed to hide his idiotic smile, but he was even more grateful now for covering his disappointment. He continued to follow the length of your strides, silently walking you to the train station just as he’s done in the past.

He doesn’t say much else, simply nodding in agreement. Honestly, he should have known you’d think that’s what he meant. It would only be natural to celebrate a milestone like this with the rest of your coworkers, wouldn’t it? He was too presumptuous to think you’d want to be alone with him. God, he was starting to feel like a real idio—

“Jeez, no need to act so gloomy,” your voice cuts through his thoughts like a scalpel, and he turns to see you snickering into your palm, “I was just joking!”

He doesn’t know what to say, so he says nothing, blinking down at you confusedly as you roll your eyes.

“I won’t invite anyone else. We can celebrate, just us two,” you smile, reaching up to ruffle your fingers through the tufts of his curls, “Gosh, you’re so easy to read, Kiyoomi.”

He tugs his mask up higher on the bridge of his nose, praying to God you don’t see how much he enjoyed that.

But the soft smile on your face tells him you do, and maybe Sakusa likes that.

Because with you, Sakusa Kiyoomi felt easy.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble