𝟎𝟓.𝟎𝟏 𝑨𝑴 [𝑻.𝑺𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑹𝑰]

nineteen.

'𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘'
-you're playing a losing game

*•.¸♡¸.•*

undeserving of love.

undeserving of complications to getting your heart broken.

because that's what you were left with the majority of the time. maybe you loved too hard, that leads you to disappointment because you pulled the trigger, you expected too much, you expected nothing, you wanted more, you needed less, you just. you lived.

this is not the love story you think it is.

this is not a love story.

a pushover, a self pitier, a weakling does not deserve a happy ever after. you think about what happens after the screen turns black and cursive fonts appear on your screen telling you that it was the end of their story and that they lived happily. was that up to your imagination? if it was, they didn't live happily ever after. if it was, it was just merely the start for them.

love is complicated.

you loved your mother so much but she managed to make you feel so hated.

you loved your father so much but he managed to bribe you with money as an apology for being an absolute douche bag.

you loved yourself but you grew up.

you did things, then you regretted them and there's nothing you can do about it.

so why was this such a surprise to you. why did it shock you so much when tendou finally admitted that looking into your doe big eyes staring up at him reminded him of someone who used to look down at his more slender body with olive hair.

why were you so surprised that you,

undeserving of love,

found out the truth.

*•.¸♡¸.•*

tendou satori lived in his head a lot. pain releasing on his hip to remind him 'hey, you're time's running up. go skydiving or some stupid shit like that.'

tendou satori was gonna give up. but with your hand entangling in his hair, ever so gently stroking and massaging his scalp, your lips so close to his, your eyes half lidded so drunk and intoxicated while flickering them back and forth from his eyes to his lips.

with your body pressed against his, his hand on your waist, on your shoulders, around your shoulders, on your hips, cupping your cheek, just everywhere. smiling against his lips when you connect them, leg sneaking up between his thighs. how the hell was tendou going to give this up. why was he meant to give up being loved?

tendou forgot the crucial part to love. it will only create a reaction, a beautiful symbol, if both of the participants felt the same thing. tendou loves. loves who is the mystery here.

xxx
i'm sorry. i'm ready to start over.

the message on his screen, he stares at for at least 16 minutes now. leaning on the edge of the bed, his back crouched and hunched forward, his fingers on either side of his phone. eyes wide, dull, almost lifeless and so full of hope at the same time, he shakes. the screen's brightness turned down as he hoped bright light wouldn't awaken your slumber with your passed out body, limp on his bed.

a bubble with three circles appears as if the person starts typing again.

xxx
i heard everything. i hope you're willing
to forgive me. i never wanted you to feel alone
and that's exactly what i did. i'm coming back to
japan in two days. i'd do anything to see you again.

'do anything to see you again.'

tendou
i never blamed you for anything. but i'm
not alone anymore.

he deleted the message.

i want to see you again. i miss you toshi.

send.

*•.¸♡¸.•*

in this story of comfort and reverse, who wins?

"tendou i brought you your favorite cake."

"let's make chocolate bars."

"tendou. kiss me."

for until the end, tendou never felt peace. not even on this bed. not in comfortable fancy attire with his hands neatly placed on his abdomen. eyes shut for he got what he wanted, what he was destined to become.

you never understood your complex. you had too much love to give and he just so happened to not want it. can't have it.

ushijima was a hard worker. worked hard to become what his father underestimated and discriminated him against. extra points for his incredible build from the years in his highschool days where he pushed his limits and when parts of his body would turn into muscle. ushijima was quickly mistaken for a statue, carefully molded to look like a god.

ushijima also has regrets. even the pro athlete has his regrets. tendou would've offered him all the love in the world. now ushiijima's ready, but is it too late?

*•.¸♡¸.•*

"how have you been satori?"

"do you want me to be honest or is this a scripted opening line?"

"you can always be honest with me."

"i've been okay."

"i said be honest with me."

"i'm a little better."

standing in front of each other near an old play park they would pass by as they walk back from school, tendou can feel his heart dropping into his ass. ushijima has always been aware of tendou's declining mental state. the denial stage of grief has its hold on ushijima for the longest time so he can't help but smile and tear up a bit when he hears the news.

"there's this person who is almost like an angel. saved my life literally and platonically."

"do you love them?"

"not as much as i loved you."

in a life where tendou was always beaten nearly to death, you were no better than a naive child ready to be stomped on. strings around your heart as metaphoric hands pull to create a tightening feeling in your chest. though the feeling goes unbothered now, you pray to whatever gods are up there that you won't get to hear things to make you feel those strings.

are you the main character of your own story? or have you been revolving around other people?

acknowledge that you're tired and you will never get to sleep.

♡