*:･ﾟYou Bet I Stare ･ﾟ:*

CHAPTER 35 - bloom later

KOU
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"What kind of food do you like? I can make almost anything." I call out to Sousuke as I start rummaging through the cabinets to look for something that I can use to throw something quick together. I didn't even expect to see Mitsuba tonight, let alone bring him back to my place. "I don't care." He calls back, possibly in the most unenthusiastic voice I've ever heard in my life. "Sure," I sigh and shut the cabinet I'm digging in before walking over to the fridge, muttering underneath my breath. "Of course you don't care." I wasn't exactly sure how I should talk to Sousuke since I still felt awkward around him—especially after that horrendous car ride.

I didn't mean to be rude to him, but I was just too overwhelmed with trying to make sure I get us back on good terms. I was also too busy trying to make sure I don't let my feelings for him become too obvious. He already told me that he wasn't interested in trying things again, even though I felt the complete opposite.

Soon enough I had some quick dinner getting started for us on the stove. I was currently preparing some Chicken Katsu with some rice, along with some Ajitsuke Tamago and Broccoli. Sousuke and I still hadn't talked to each other since we got here, but I could hear that he was watching the television in the next room over. Hopefully this weird barrier that's up between us right now will come down once we have dinner and properly discuss things one on one with way less distractions than what there were at the festival. Once I felt that I could leave all the food to simmer on its own for a while, I walked over to the living room to find Sousuke absolutely slumped on the couch. I couldn't help but feel a very soft and faint little smile come to my face as I just silently stood there for a second to soak in how peaceful and beautiful he looked just laying there asleep. I then quickly raised my eyebrows and lost the smile as I remembered that I couldn't just stare at him like that anymore, considering that we couldn't even be consider as friends right now.

"Surely he has to be cold.." I thought to myself as I noticed that he was laying there with his arms crossed. I then looked over at the staircase that led my home up to the second floor before looking back at Sousuke. The second floor was basically just a bathroom and a space for sleeping and whatnot—the necessities really. An exhale left my lungs as I decided to quickly go upstairs to grab him the blanket off my bed in hopes of helping him with the temperature problems that he was having. I would've carried him upstairs to sleep, but I didn't want to risk him waking up and getting the wrong idea from me moving him somewhere myself. My heart was skipping beats in my chest as I walked all the way up to my room, just thinking about how painstakingly stunning Sousuke looked without even having to try. He was only laying there sleeping, but I still couldn't get over it.

It honestly hurts how much I still love and care about him. It's mostly because I know that I destroyed him when we were both crazy about each other, and he probably took it as proof that I wasn't willing to fight for something that I swore I believed in. That's why I'm so stuck on redemption. I want to prove to Sousuke that I actually want to fight for us, and that I don't care about the opinions of other people.. and that I was no longer going to let things like high family values get in the way of my own morals. Once I make it back to Sousuke, I spread my blanket out over him—focusing more on his legs than his arms and torso since he was wearing shorts paired with a jacket.

Would it be too perverted to say that I think he has hella nice legs for a dude?

I narrow my eyebrows a bit as I look to the side, trying to answer my own question before getting up from my kneeling position to go back to the kitchen. I know that I've seen them before, but something just felt different now. It was probably the fact that I shouldn't even be thinking things like that anymore. The worst part about it is that I wanted to hold those legs with my hands and tell him how nice they were. My palm immediately smacks my forehead, signaling for myself to stop where I was in that thought process—cause damn, number one perverted champion in the world award is calling my name right about how.