heartache | t. muichiro ✓

tip of your tongue

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The click of the lock had you shuddering, your eyes lingering on the door knob for a bit longer than necessary before finally turning to stare at Muichiro. You could tell through his hardened gaze that this was more of a facade than anything, his lack of any romantic experience already known by now.

He sighed, "I'm going to need you to walk through this for me, please."

What? You had full control of the situation? Like, you weren't be forced into doing anything or having your skin pried and probed by unwelcome hands? That was new. Your hands shook at this new occurrence, the uncertainty unnerving.

You grinned in an attempt to hide your nervousness. "Well, we've kissed before, so no biggie."

"I can't exactly study and train repetition for kisses."

"What, you aren't practicing on a pillow? I knew you were crazy." You'd practice a few times at your preteen age each day out of sheer boredom, but this felt different. "Fine. Let's review again."

Slipping your hands into his, you did a good job of ensuring that you did this part as painstakingly slow as possible to calm yourself down, you lifted your head up to look at him just to reaffirm that he was still comfortable with the situation. He stared at his hands in fascination and you took note of the pinker parts on his face.

"Is this alright?" You checked.

He flexed his hand, feeling more of yours, before responding. "Never been better."

"Are you comfortable standing, or do you want to sit, or hell, maybe even--"

"You're nervous." He pointed out. "Y/N, this goes both ways. Are you sure you're comfortable?"

"No--no. I totally am, it's just that," you gulped down the lump of air that'd formed in your throat. "Unimportant. Let's just get this over with."

Muichiro's look of confusion turned into one of concern as you guided him onto the edge of his bed, smiling ever-so sweetly at him and sitting without any hesitation. Taking another draw of his cigarette and sitting down beside you, he watched the small tremors of your hand whilst you pushed a strand of his hair behind his ear.

"I'm being serious, Y/N. What's bothering you?"

"Nothing, gosh you're so sensitive." Everything was happening. This was wrong. So wrong. And yet here you were, about to kiss the boy you'd watch your boyfriend commit atrocities to. Your heart raced in your chest and your breathing quickened, the desperation for air growing more and more imminent. You needed air. It was suffocating. This was suffocating.

Muichiro stood frozen as you moved closer to him and stared at him with those breathtaking eyes. He knew. He fucking knew that you were just going through the motions by now. You were visibly marred by your experiences with Jiro, and here he was recreating an all-too-familiar scene for you.

He hated the idea of sharing any similarities with that thing.

"Y/N, stop it."