𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 → 𝗥. 𝗦𝘂𝗻𝗮

06 the boys - part 1

"He... didn't kiss you?" Akaashi stopped eating mid-way, chopsticks in hand. Of course, anyone would have expected he did, but he didn't. We have the same reaction there, 'Kaashi. 

I shrugged in response to his question, breathing in deeply. "I told you he was messing with me." 

"Guess he hasn't changed at all." He shrugged as well, now taking a bunch of noodles in his chopsticks as he continued to eat. 

I went home disappointed the other night, to say the least. I did expect him to kiss me. Maybe he wanted to see that? Maybe he was eager to see that desperation on my face, eager to know whether or not I was desperate to have him. Maybe he was curious to know if I was still wrapped around his finger. And yet, despite coming to that conclusion, I still fell for his trap. His soft yet calloused hands holding my chin up, the other resting on my waist—he knew my weakness. 

"Are you bothered by it?" Akaashi asks, probably because he noticed how I was staring off into space, burger in hand. I idly looked back at him, his eyebrow raised, anticipating a certain answer I know I shouldn't admit. But it was Akaashi. I can't not admit anything to him. 

"I guess," even I wasn't sure. "I guess I wanted to know if he was the same Suna I knew back then."

"But you didn't know him back then, did you?" Akaashi was so observant and such a good listener, to the point where I was annoyed at how on-point his questions were. He's right, I didn't know Suna. I thought I did, but how could you know someone from a kiss? How could you tell all their hopes and dreams and fears and traumas from a peck on the lips, on the chest, or from a whiff of their scent? 

"Enough of that, 'Kaashi." I cleared my throat. Appetite now ruined from the conversation we were having. I have had a lot of questions and doubts about Suna Rintarou, even from before, and now thinking about it, not one of those questions were answered, not one of those doubts were proven wrong. 

Surely I knew him from what he showed me and everyone else around him; he was cocky and so full of himself. He was rude, and selfish, and an arrogant piece of shit—but despite those qualities, he was diligent and determined to get whatever it was he wanted. Suna wouldn't give up so easily... or was it wishful thinking to say he wouldn't give up on me? 

"Enough of that, too." Akaashi tapped on his forehead. "Over-thinking. It'll get you high up in the clouds and lost, forever. There's no point to that." Clearing his throat, he packed up his unfinished lunch and exited my office, walking back to his little cubicle, back to his own little world. 

I stared at Akaashi's back as he walked away, wondering if he ever had this kind of problem. He always seemed so organized, not only with his things, but his life as well. I bet his closet is color-coordinated, I'd expect nothing less of Akaashi Keiji. 

He was right. Over-thinking won't bring me anywhere good—not emotionally, at least. It literally felt like I was back in high school secretly crushing over the hot but quiet kid in volleyball practice. And honestly, it doesn't feel nearly as good as it did before. 

-

There used to be something so comforting coming home to an empty apartment, everything still in its place, or where you last put them—dishes in the sink, laundry in the hamper, shoes left on the genkan, the familiar smell of vanilla-scented candles from the living room; it gave a sense of calmness to me.