how would yuta react to his crush telling him he’s pretty while she’s injured and like delerious ig? 😭
Yuta’s heartbeat pumps through his ears, makes it impossible to focus on anything but you.
You, laying right in front of him.
You, laying in a puddle of blood.
A lot of blood. Too much, to be exact. He kneels down, inspects your gaping wounds. If he came here sooner, if he only arrived in Shibuya earlier, maybe none of this would have happened.
“I’m…so tired”, you mumble, lids threaten to flutter shut.
“Focus on me, okay? We need to get you out of here, (y/n).”
You furrow your eyebrows, concentrate your foggy vision on the person in front of you. He seems so familiar, like someone you haven’t seen in a long time. If your eyes would just focus on him…
“Yuta….Yuta, is that you?”
He smiles at you gently, cups your cheek like he always imagined to. You were always on his mind. No matter where he was, no matter how late in the night. All he could ever think about was coming back to you.
“It’s me, (y/n). You have no idea how nice it is to finally see you again-“
“Come closer”, you instruct him with weak voice.
“I need to see you…closer.”
Yuta swallows hard. Even though you’re covered in blood and probably delirious, you look just as stunning as you did back then when he left.
With your eyes and lips only inches away from his face, he suddenly feels insecure again. No matter how well he trained, he will never be good enough for someone like you. You are like an angel walking on this earth, so gorgeous that you turn heads on a regular basis. But not only that, you are also incredibly smart and talented. Why would you fall for someone like him? Why does he still chase after a dream that will never come true?
“You look so beautiful, Yuta.”
He lets out his breath, widened eyes staring at your tired smile. You didn’t just say that, right?
“You’re a little delirious because of the blood loss, let me get you out-“
“You are beautiful. I always thought so. And that new haircut really suits you”, you mumble.
You are beautiful…When was the last time he heard someone say this to him? No, it doesn’t matter when or who someone said this so him. His eyes take in your sight along with your words while his cheeks turn bright pink.
“Come on, (y/n). I will carry you out of here”, he finally manages to press out, threaten to fall over with his knees wobbly like pudding.
“I’m asking for it.”
“Yuta…”, you mutter again while he carries you over the debris and death.
“What is it?”
“Did I tell you that you’re beautiful already?”
"Y-Yeah..."
