As the Galaxy Cries

Athazagoraphobia

Athazagoraphobia
-(n.) The fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored, or being replaced.

"I would let you

Break my heart

A million more times,

For one more night

With that moon

And your eyes."

-(kir)

How can you possibly describe this feeling? It slowly seeps into your core, gripping you tight, holding you captive. It takes away your ability to breath, leaving you gasping for air and clutching at your chest. It makes your throat raw from screaming, and your hands trembling as you try to compose yourself.
Love was a disgusting thing.

Atsumu stared at the volleyball in his hands, the noises from his teammates fading out as he let himself get sucked back into the feeling of complete worthlessness. It wasn't something that happened often, but now he knew. Now he understood why everything always seemed off; why Omi kept him at an arm's length. He wished for a second time since he realized Omi's true feelings that he was never born as a twin.

It was always Samu in the end, what was the point of being the twin when you're always the second choice?

Being a replacement hurt more than Atsumu thought.

"Atsu! Hey, hello? Anyone home?"

The blonde quickly jolted back to reality, eyes finding their way to a head of bright orange hair as he looked down at Hinata, whose eyes seemed to be filled with curiosity and bit of worry. Whether he'd like to admit it or not Hinata was pretty keen when it came to emotions. Hopefully he couldn't read him like a book.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine I just haven't been sleeping that well, that's all."

He shrugged and lightly tossed the volleyball in his hands up in the air before catching it. It wasn't a lie, but he wasn't about to start explaining as to why he hadn't been sleeping well. The last thing he needed was someone else barging into his head and making a mess. Omi did that well enough on his own.

He regrets the moment he let Omi touch him.

Hinata didn't seem to notice, and if he did he didn't comment on it. He just sighed, taking the volleyball from Atsumu's hands as he turned on his feet to head back towards the court. "That's what you get for staying up all night playing games on your phone."

The blonde felt the corners of his lips curve up into a faint smile, glad to see that even behind the pain and the burning in his chests, his teammates couldn't see behind the mask.

Philophobia

-(n.) The fear of falling in love

"Loving you was never sudden

It was like

I have been holding my breath

All my life waiting for the scent of you"

-pyrokardia

Atsumu wonders if he could have stopped it if he had only realized it sooner. If he could have forced himself to close off any form of emotion he might be forming for his teammate. He would have gladly traded love for hate. Hate he could deal with. It was a fickle thing, but he could at least hold back the feeling of disgust rather than this feeling of longing.
Loving Omi was like finally coming up for air after being trapped underwater. You try to take in as much air as you can before you're swept back down under the waves, wishing and praying for your own demise.

Omi was a tidal wave, and Atsumu couldn't save himself even if he tried.

La douleur exquise

-(n.) The heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable.

"I suppose

I am your

Wishbone

Because you

Must break me

To get what

You want"

-k.p.k

He was the moon and it seemed like I was the sun. You wait and reach for the night, hoping to catch a glimpse, only to be turned away because he rather look at the stars.
Atsumu had tried to convince himself that he would tell Omi 'no' the next time he wanted to bring him home. He had gone over it in his mind countless times, staring at his ceiling as he reminded himself of the pain in his chest. Yet, the moment that Omi reached out, cool fingertips brushing against his elbow, asking him to come back to his apartment, how could Atsumu ever say no?

It was different this time, like there were unspoken words by the gentle touch of Omi's hands, the quiet sighs that fell between them, and the sadness in Omi's eyes that had Atsumu cupping his cheeks and reassuring him that he was okay.

It didn't hurt. It couldn't when Atsumu let himself fall into the other's embrace. When his name was whispered into his ear; when Omi held him like he was going to break. It was in these small fractions of time where Atsumu could pretend that he was the one he wanted, that Omi would spend the night and he would wake up in the morning with the sun gazing down at them, happy that they could both find warmth within each other.

But it wasn't Astumu's name that Omi wanted to say, it wasn't his body that Omi was pretending to touch. He was a substitute for someone better, an empty vessel that was waiting to be thrown away. How much longer would he last until he crumbled in Omi's hands and disappeared into the air?

The hardest part about loving someone is knowing there's nothing you can do to stop it. It crept up behind you, waiting to pounce on you when you least expect it. You don't ask to fall in love, it's given to you without permission. It weaves its way around your heart and runs through your veins. Love is like a terminal disease that will leave you sobbing in the middle of the night, gripping at your chest as you beg to catch your breath.

The pain lingers long after he's left, the empty bedside cold and sharp. Atsumu wished he had the courage to ask Omi to stay, but as the other picks up his things and shuts the door, he knows it's too late, and even if he did, Omi would leave without looking back.

Ustulation

-(n.) A burning lust

"Two things I'll forever be sure of,

The sun will always

Fall for the moon

& I will always fall for you"

-r.m. broderick