Silver Spoon Love // Sanzu Haruchiyo x Reader

CHAPTER NINETEEN I'm the drug in your veins

Haruchiyo stepped away from the door. How could someone ever truly love me? He ran his sleeve across his face, the tears soaking through his white shirt, mocking him. He looked back at the dining table covered in food half eaten. She did, she loved me and I ruined it. He had lost his appetite, and grabbed his glass of whiskey throwing back its remains. He made his way into his bathroom; turning on the light he hovered over the sink grasping it tightly on both sides. I can't even look at myself. Letting out a tsk, he turned the water on its coldest setting. I need to calm down. Sanzu splashed his face several times, blindly reaching for his hand towel to dry his face. Once dry and more composed he opened his medicine cabinet. The bottle of Xanax inside looked just as seducing as Y/n had in that dress. 

Y/n went into the half bathroom to grab tissues to dry her tears. She didn't bother turning on the light, I don't even want to know how disheveled I look. Leaving the small restroom, she took off her heels, slipped off the dress, and sat at the end of the bed. Defeated, she heaved a sigh and fell down onto the opulent mattress. Closing her eyes to melt further into the comfort she realized she could still smell him on her skin. Same cologne as back then; bet you did it on purpose. Opening up her lids again, Y/n looked towards the closet, the mirrors only caught her silhouette. She crawled further up the bed to turn on the antique lantern styled lamp on the side table. Deep red light pooled out from the dark metal encaging it. Y/n sat on her knees to examine herself in the floor to ceiling mirrors. Hair out of place from his hands running through it, tired eyes from the tears, body barely covered in black straps. Why did I even wear this? The thought of him finding the lingerie under her dress crossed her mind. Well that's not happening. But she couldn't shake off the throbbing heat radiating from her lips.
Both lips.

She reached up to her face, still watching herself, and let her fingertips ghost over her mouth. He had left them swollen and raw with the pressure of his kisses and the pull of his teeth. She let her head fall down onto the pillows littering the headboard, fixated on the intimate kiss they had shared. He did it, bastard sucked me right back in. Her heart filled to the brim as all their intimate moments flooded her mind space. They had laughed together, cried together, held each other. Weekends curled up in his bed with nothing but open-ended conversation and movies from the rental store playing in the background. Date nights to fancy restaurants and hole-in-the-wall fast food spots. Carnivals, the beach, picnics in the park. They experienced new things together, taking on whatever life had to offer or throw their way. They had promised each other forever, and Y/n could've spent forever with him. The sensual moments, they knew each other's bodies better than their own. The heat from that kiss reminded her just how good he made her feel emotionally, spiritually, and physically.
Y/n let her hand travel down her body.

He couldn't do it, couldn't bring himself to open the pill bottle and numb the pain. I deserve this, I need to feel this. She probably felt like this after that night so it's about damn time I did too. He had gone back into the living room and started cleaning up the mess that dinner had turned in to. He started with his plate, wrapped up the leftover food putting it in the fridge, and then made his way to Y/n's table set. His eyes lingered to the chair he had pulled out. I need to fix this. I need to apologize. I couldn't even talk to her without trying to make a move. He looked from the chair to the door. I need her back, but I need her to know how sorry I am first. Walking over hesitantly, his hand lingering over the doorknob he heard a whimper muffled by the door. She's still crying, fuck, I am such an asshole. Maybe I should wait to talk to her. 

I've waited long enough. She's here now and it's my only chance. Senju will be here the day after tomorrow to come take her home. He opened the door, softly, he was convinced his presence would instantly be rejected. The sight before Haruchiyo made his eyes wide, his jaw slack, and his cock perk up in his dress pants. Y/n's head was thrown back in the mess of pillows, her chest heaving, knees apart while she slipped two fingers in and out of herself. The whimper Sanzu had heard wasn't muffled now and the hum of pleasure escaping her lips was music to his ears. A song he hadn't heard play in a very long time, nostalgic. "Y/n." he whispered out her name and she whipped her head up. Wide eyed and flushed with embarrassment, if it weren't for the light in the room her burning red face would've been noticeable. She started to retreat her fingers and say something but he took a step towards the bed.
"Don't stop," he pawed one hand on his growing erection, the other hand signaling some sort of surrender, "Don't stop. Please. It's fine baby," the word of endearment subconsciously slipping from his mouth. 
"It's fine. You can think about him. Just let me watch."