#owlit

gretchen gomez’s welcome to ghost town  /  accepting  /  @owlit

SKEPTICAL MINDS die hard and while the stars are not known to lie,  doe eyes squint to scrutinize the owl’s claim.  wise or troublesome,  he wonders,  would it be a setter’s foolishness or advisable to trust him based on his spike alone ?  

“  far be it from me to argue with the stars… ”  he starts,  every bit intending to reach the  ‘ but ’  that usually follows  —  but instincts detect a level of veritable candor behind the golden globes that blink back at him and oikawa nearly sways backward away from it,  unpredictably moved.  huh. 

“  …so i won’t. ”

                  the breeze against his skin was cool, soothing in the wake of the searing heat they had endured during the day. practice seemed to stretch longer during summer time and it had been grueling, the kind that propels exhaustion through muscles and into your bones; but it was the heaviness of his limbs, the drag of his feet against concrete and his mind clear of any and all thought, save for a distinct feeling of satisfaction, that tooru loved. he would not trade this feeling – of exhausted, numbing satisfaction – for anything else.

                  he had just passed gym #3 in his slow trek, still lit up and the sounds of ricocheting volleyballs and shouts spilled out, relaxing him further with the familiarity of it. he grew up with this. tooru began humming a random tune, the sounds becoming background noise as he walked farther away, his destination set on the baths.

                  the goosebumps were already crawling up his spine before a hand clapped on his shoulder and tooru may have let out an embarrassing, high-pitched noise that vaguely sounded like a shriek. he turns to look at his attacker, praying it was an alien from a far-away planet to justify the unmanly noise that escaped his throat. he only saw black and white ridiculously pointy hair and large, yellow eyes filled with a copious amount of mischief. fukurodani’s ace - bokuto koutarou. the little shit.

                  ❛ you– what the– ❜ he hissed, disappointment blanketing over him suddenly, somewhat calming the heart hammering against his ribcage. ❛ you’re not an alien!! ❜

                              (  the man never opens his bar on days like this.  he cares too much about it - and himself - to even think about making the mostly-wooden decor brave the howling wind and the screaming sheets of rain; it’s better to leave the door closed, let brick and mortar take on the raging elements--

                                                                     -- but he’d  already been at work  when the storm started.

                              as such, ginti is prepared for a night of laying low.  unenthusiastic about it is he, but what are his chances trying to walk in it?  a peer out of the window to confirm the rain is still pouring like a ridiculous shower of bullets, and then amber eyes are focusing on something else.  a person.  and by the looks of it, they’re younger.  the server grits his teeth, clenches fists against the bar-top.  he doesn’t want anybody in his bar right now...

                              he flings the door open before his poor conscience can talk him out of it, chest heaving with the sudden air ripped from his lungs. turning his head to his shoulder, he inhales deeply, then shouts as loudly as possible: )

“     huh ?          is it really that important that you have to whisper it ?     ”          she muttered, but still complied : head tilted a bit, ear being leant to him for the time being while her arms crossed across her chest while hues sifted to the side he was on .          “     one more time ?     ”

“     uh ?          yeah ? i have a dollar ... ?     ”          she blinked,          “     do you ... want to borrow a dollar ... ?     ”          reeled back to confirm her suspicions . glanced to a vending machine right behind him, then right back to his face . eyes shut with an annoyed smile creeping on her face .          “     yeah, you can  borrow  a dollar for a snack–––- ‘long as i get some of whatever it is .     ”

overly excited owl befriends bitterly confused snake . png

IT’S ACE BONDING NIGHT, claimed the fukurodani captain!  he insisted this at two-thirty in the morning, more accurately, and the only reason asahi had agreed in the first place came from a strange, sexy mixture of fear, guilt, and responsibility. he had no choice but to offset the chemical imbalance of chaotic energy, and yet  ——  what good is he? what good is a voice unheard? what good is his unwitting jesus allegory to the stark cry of a nonbeliever? 

we shouldn’t wander too far, asahi had said, but here they are: too far. lost. somehow in the presence of a cave that shouldn’t exist, all geography considered. 

“ bokuto-san… i don’t think anybody can live in this cave. that’s why it’s empty, right? maybe it’s a good idea to start walking back… ”  but here they are once again, venturing inside. asahi toddles along behind him like a preschooler, because it’s so scary, and they are both surely going to die. 

and maybe the worst part is he’s still in his PJs. “ c-come on.. ”  it’s a whisper, barely more than a breath. the hand that pleadingly lands on bokuto’s shoulder goes numb on impact.

“ please… ”