The Storyteller (Oikawa Tooru x reader)

3. sick hours

Surprisingly enough, when you informed Rin that you hadn't had much progress, she wasn't irritated in the slightest. In fact, she gave you a pat on the shoulder, and reassured you that she knew how much effort it took for you to talk to people.

"You're shy, (Y/n)," she spoke, in a factual manner, "it can't be helped. But I really appreciate that you're trying. I know it's hard for you."

This time, your smile was genuine, as you thanked her.

"So, I found that there might be a way to do this quicker," Rin continued, an excited blush crossing her cheeks, "There's a party going on at the weekend, and I heard that Oikawa was going. We could show up and try to get to know him a bit better!"

Your smile dropped.

"Oh come on! What's that face for? I know you hate parties, but just this once you wouldn't mind, right?"

No, you wouldn't mind at all. How could you ever say no to her?

That was how you found yourself in front of a large house, Rin by your side, with blasting music coming from inside, and joyful shouts rigning out into the night. The noises triggered your anxiety, and out of habit, you began to pick at your fingers, tearing at the dead flesh for some sort of relief; there was no way you could do this.

It looked so... loud. Who genuinely went to these things to have fun?

"Aww, we're late," Rin sighed, smacking her freshly painted red lips together. "I told you it would've been faster if I'd asked my driver to take us."

"Oh well," you mumbled, blinking steadily, intaking a sharp breath every time the lights above changed colour, startling you.

"Couldn't you have dressed a bit better?" your friend complained, gesturing to your somewhat tacky, thrown together outfit. "Nobody's going to want to hook up with you when you look like that."

"Has anyone ever wanted to hook up with me?" you replied snarkily, disguising your inner hurt.

Rin giggled, nudging you. "Oh stop that. Let's get going then, we've got an Oikawa to seduce," she stated, walking towards the house, though she tripped over her obnoxiously high heels as she did. "Whoops!" she laughed, looking over her shoulder at you.

Your breath caught in your throat; it was at times like these that you were reminded why you used to have a crush on Rin.

Yet you shook your head, before you placed a grin on your lips. "I told you not to wear those fucking shoes," you reprimanded cheekily.

"Shut up!" she squealed, letting out a playful shriek as you mockingly pushed her, causing her to almost topple to the ground.

For a moment you thought this might not be so bad.

You were reminded of the reality you hated so very much, when you stepped through the door, and took in the sight of thousands of drunk, horny teenagers, who clearly had no idea what their boundaries were anymore.

It wasn't that you didn't like these people per say, after all they were free to do whatever they wanted, however the overwhelming intensity of these types of events scared the shit out of you. You were a quiet person, who preferred to be by themselves, as depressing as it sounded; large crowds had never been your forte.

So for fuck's sake, why were you here?

"Come on, let's go find him!" Rin gushed, clearly feeling the adrenaline from the high energy atmosphere.

"In this huge house?" you spluttered, eyes darting from place to place, searching for an emergency exit to use.

"Hmm, you're right!" your friend hummed. "Let's split up! This house has two floors, so you take the top and I'll do the bottom! It'll be easier for you since there are usually less people there," she winked at you.

"Thank—" your words died at the edge of your lips; she was already gone. All of a sudden, you felt terribly alone, in the midst of all this alcohol ridden air. You didn't want to be here, you really didn't, all you wanted was to go home.

Yet you found yourself ducking past various other peers in order to find the nearest staircase in the house. The stench of liquor was everywhere, mixed with the faint stink of weed, and it was doing a number on your head. How long has it been, a minute, five minutes? An hour? Who knew?

Doubling over slightly, you finally spied the steps to the upper floor, and hobbled over to them, barely avoiding a half naked couple; almost there, almost there!

As you walked unsteadily up the stairs, you felt an unpleasant feeling strike your stomach, causing you to clap a hand over your mouth.

Bathroom.

With renewed panic, you stumbled to the top, and glanced around, before recognizing the familiar door that was thankfully in every household. But when you tried the door handle, it was locked. Tears built up in your eyes, as anxiety took over your system; you couldn't fucking take this anymore.

"H-Hello?" you stuttered weakly, still desperately fiddling with the lock, hoping this was just a nightmare, "I'm really sorry to bother you, b-but I'm about to throw up. Could you hurry up please?"

No answer.

Oh god, this was your worst nightmare. You promised yourself you'd never be the one to get into these types of situations; you promised yourself that you'd dedicate yourself to the parent friend archetype, the one who picks up their drunk besties, or something along the lines of that. You weren't even drunk.

You were just that weak willed in these types of situations, and it made you feel like absolute shit.

"Please! I'm really sorry, but—" you yelped in surprise, as the door opened, causing you to tumble forwards.

Instantly, you spied the toilet, and scrambled over, just in time to lean over the edge and hurl up the contents of your dinner.

Shit. Your dad spent ages preparing that. What a waste.

You pulled away, the taste of sick disgustingly prominent in your mouth, looking up to see who'd let you in, to thank them; and then your bloodshot eyes widened when they met with brown, exhausted ones.

"Oh," Oikawa Tooru murmured, closing the door behind him, so you were both alone together. "It's you."