𝟐𝟏 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 → 𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶 𝘮.

13 (m/s) vunerable.

Vulnerable.

+++

"Love, baby, (Y/N)— baby I'm so sorry."

He drops to his knees grabbing onto your wrists, as buries his head into your stomach making you stumble back. You try shoving him off only for him to wrap his arms tightly around you and bury his head even more into you.

"Kiyoomi, get a grip," your voice wavered as you spoke, heart-clenching at seeing him so vulnerable.

His tears wet your torso as his quiet sobs filled the quiet hours.

"Were done," you let him know, finally shoving him off.

"Whatever they said wasn't actually—"

A strike to his cheek was delivered hard and fast.

"There's fucking proof Kiyoomi," the volume of your voice increases.

"Why the fuck are you lying?" You slap him once again.

He holds his cheek with a shaky hand, looking down at the smoothed concrete ground. A sudden sense of remorse filled you as you speak again.

"Fuck, I'm sorry for hitting you, just go away man," you say stepping away from him.

"I get it, I deserve it," his tone was rich in regret as he spoke dearly. "But just trust me, just this once— before you go—" He fumbles on his hasty words.

His dark orbs illuminate in the crescent moon, his curly locks messy and blowing in the early morning breeze. He was beautiful, he always would be.

The dark night sky was beginning to turn blue and the early morning breeze was settling in.

Sighing you answer, "Fine, what?"

"Keep my number, don't remove it."

"Fine."

And with that, you walk away, towards the driver seat of your R36 GTR.

Starting your car, you reverse from your spot and accelerate forward, driving around the water fountain and leaving Kiyoomi now standing in the emptied parking lot of the mansion— stained with heartbreak.

+++

You drove into the sunrise, conflicted with your emotions. You didn't want to admit it, you'd hate to admit it— but why couldn't you admit it?

That— at that moment, your heart was broken. Maybe already broken? Perhaps.

You neared a random street and parked and it was only a moment of quiet silence before you burst out into tears.

Like, it was official, you and Kiyoomi were done, and quite honestly there was no going back.

"Fuck," You mutter under your breath.

You fish for your phone in your pockets and pull it out. The thought of your girls crossed your mind, but, you knew they were okay, they were all independent people.

Shakily you press on your camera roll. A shaky sigh left your lips as you scrolled through the endless photos and videos of you and Kiyoomi, or just him alone. You didn't delete any, instead reminisced on the scenarios behind them.

You remembered when Kiyoomi was teaching you to drift, he, not noticing— instead purely focused on you in your car—recorded his reaction. He was all smiles and being really cute.

But as wholesome as the memory was, Osamu bugged your mind.

Should you call him? Should you text him? You didn't even have his number to try, although, you wished you did.

The sound of a notification brought you out of your thoughts.

You peered at the message at the top of your screen.

From: Private Number