𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐓 | 𝐬. 𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐰𝐚

( XXVI )

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SHOUTA CAME BACK into the room, thoughts collected and a plate in each hand for lunch. One for him and one for you. His stone expression was impossible to read, as usual, but particularly frustrating to you given the circumstances.

He took a breath, you braced yourself for the worst.

"You don't owe me an explanation," he started off strong then seemed to lose momentum. He paused to serve you, a sandwich cut in two triangle halves. Finally, he finished, "I do want to know if you're still involved with him."

"I'm not," you almost cut him short, e/c eyes staring at him intensely. "I wouldn't do that to you."

You understood where he was coming from. If you suddenly found out that he had an ex still hounding him on his phone you'd be... uncomfortable? Not lied to, maybe, but something along those lines. And somewhere even thinking about the scenario reversed you felt a simmering bitterness in the pit of your stomach.

"Okay," he replied plainly, trusting your word.

"That's it?"

"Unless you have any other secrets you want to get off your chest," he said dryly.

"I don't."

"Then okay."

You couldn't stop yourself from making a face, but you let the heavy silence take the place of a response.

"What?" he asked eventually at your stubbornly confused expression.

"It's not a crime to be curious, you know?"

"I don't need to pry. Like I said, it's your business." He sat behind his work desk. "And I already told you I'd keep it a secret. What else is there to say?" He took a bite of his sandwich, keeping up the nonchalant façade.

"You know it now, it feels worse that you don't get it."

"What's there to get, Y/n?" He put his pen down without writing anything. He couldn't focus on work anyway, not with the elephant in the room. And not when you were pointing at that elephant when he was trying to be courteous. And... maybe there was stuff he didn't want to know, like if you were still caught up on him emotionally or not--not his business he reminded himself.

"I don't want you assuming anything about me and him that's not true."

Shouta turned to give you his attention, expression stoic but a gentleness to his tired eyes and patience within his dark irises.

"Tell me what you want," he offered. He scratched the back of his neck before he added softly, "I'll listen."

It was about three years ago;