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Takemichi Hanagaki carried himself with arrogance, his shirt unbuttoned, showing his almost-abs, his sunglasses shining abnormally, and his hair styled in an...interesting way.
Y/n L/n, on the other hand, walked right behind him, with a scowl on her face and her back curved, her hands in her pockets and her shoulders facing the ground. She strongly disliked him, with a passion, at that moment.
'Takemichi-"
"Yes, Y/n?" he asked, interrupting her soon-to-be ranting moment, the arrogance in his voice bringing the flavour of vomit in her mouth.
She pettily crossed her arm over her chest, her scowl deepening, "if you'd let me finish," she sighed, "you'd have known that I was going to ask you where the fuck you're going?"
He stopped walking, and a dumbfounded expression made its way onto his face. "What do you mean?" he asked, the hint of not actually caring still lacing his voice.
"I mean, where are you going, acting like that?" she asked, "This isn't you at all. I know you, and this isn't you." (A/n: Me re-reading this: 🤡TYlEr, ThiS iSN't YoU😒)
He waited for a moment before responding. "Yeah, it is?" he said.
"That sounded more like a question, buddy, are you good?" she asked sarcastically.
He didn't pick up on it. "Yeah...you think I should get checked out or something?"
