ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇꜱꜱ: ɴᴇᴡ ʟᴏᴠᴇ | 𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

01 | ♤

七⃣ 転⃣ び⃣ 八⃣ 起⃣ き⃣

𝕱𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖘, 𝖌𝖊𝖙 𝖚𝖕 𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

░▒▓█  Y/N POV 

It was pouring down rain in Yokohama when I met him, it was cold enough without a jacket that the rain had to add to that. My black checked pants and white button up shirt beyond saturated with rain water. The noise of the precipitation wouldn't stop, it was loud and annoying, I couldn't hear myself think half the time. 

I ringed my wet hair, hearing the small patter of the water splash against the concrete as I tried to get some of the water out. As I did this, an angry voice was speaking into the microphone of their phone, As if it couldn't already get louder it did. I turned around and looked at the man that stood there, he had bright gorgeous locks of hair. I was always a fan of red heads, only reason I watched Harry Potter was for the Weasleys, their whole family was fluent in hot people. 

"I swear to God, Akutagawa if I come back and he's..." The man stops for a moment and hums in response. "Oh, well...good I guess." He nods, even though the person on the other side couldn't see him, how amusing. "Don't do anything stupid until I get back." He hangs up with a sigh, then turns around to face me and raises an eyebrow in my direction.

"Sorry I just couldn't help but overhear your conversation, work?" I asked. He nodded and slipped his phone into his coat pocket. He stayed silent, although his mannerism said something quite different there was something in his eyes, something that wanted to say more however not having the courage to say anything. 

"Do I know you?" His voice deep and harsh, but also soft at the same time. A strange mix, I know, but it doesn't matter at all. An almost angry expression sewn on his face, this guy clearly doesn't catch a break. Being angry all the time is a waste of energy, he could be harnessing that energy into something productive like... ceramics. 

"I was about to ask you the same." I chuckled lightly, trying to clear up the thick tension that floated around in the atmosphere. "Moscow?" I asked with a small smile, as to seem polite. Yet he clearly wasn't impressed, rather, he pressed his lips into a thin line.  

"No, I haven't been to Russia..." He states truthfully with a bored expression obvious on his features. "Why am I even talking to you?" He scoffs. Loosening his bolo tie while he stared back at me with his ice cold eyes. 

"Ah, you just looked like someone familiar." I hummed, thinking back to when I was much younger and running eagerly through the museum in Moscow, constantly tugging the arm of my mother's jacket, regardless of her sickly state. I was so excited, excited to soak up all the knowledge and history that guarded itself. "I love Moscow." I smiled, the memories continued to clog my thought. 

The idea of visiting Moscow again was something I was determined to face, I wish, oh how I wish to be back on that tour and walking around the castle that was there. Getting lost and running into people who didn't speak a line of English or barely any, the memories of walking aimlessly in the most expensive place I've been in was something I would hold close to my heart. 

"Of course, it's rich with history." He rolled his eyes, his tone was matter-of-fact, like I was meant to know that small piece of information already, although there was no way I could have, he was clearly quite arrogant. He began starring at his shoes, avoiding my gaze completely, like if he locked his blue eyes with mine he would catch the plague.  

"Personally my favourite thing about Moscow is that couple... I forgot what their names were." I began thinking back to it, no matter how much I thought about them, I couldn't place what their names were. "I love that letter."