blind date | kenma kozume

# twenty-one

#21 | AWKWARD MORNING

The room suddenly felt smaller, the walls closing in as the weight of the situation dawned on you. This wasn't part of the plan. Sharing a room was one thing, but sharing a bed? That was a whole different level of intimacy that you hadn't anticipated.

"Kenma, are you absolutely sure we were supposed to get one bed?" you asked, your voice tinged with anxiety as you stared at the perfectly made bed that suddenly felt much too small for comfort.

Kenma, to his credit, remained calm, his expression thoughtful as he pulled out his phone to double-check the reservation details. "It says here that it's a deluxe suite...with a king-sized bed. No mention of two beds."

You bit your lip, trying to process this new development. "But...we can't share a bed! That's...that's just too awkward, isn't it?"

He looked at you, his golden eyes steady and unreadable. "It's not a big deal, Y/N. We can manage for a few nights."

"But—" you started to protest, but he cut you off gently.

"Y/N, it's just sleeping. We're adults. We can handle it," Kenma said, his tone calm and matter-of-fact, as if sharing a bed with you was the most natural thing in the world.

You hesitated, searching his face for any sign of discomfort or unease, but there was none. He seemed completely at ease with the situation, and that made you feel a little bit better. Maybe he was right—maybe you were overthinking this. After all, it was just a bed. You could survive three nights.

"Okay," you finally said, exhaling a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "We can do this. It's just three nights."

Kenma nodded in agreement and set his bag down near the bed. "I'll take the left side. You can have the right."

"Sure, that works," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual as you set your suitcase down on the other side of the room.

The awkwardness lingered in the air, though neither of you acknowledged it. Instead, you busied yourself with unpacking, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than the bed that loomed large in your peripheral vision. As you hung up your dresses in the closet, you silently vowed to keep things as normal as possible, to not let this hiccup ruin what was supposed to be a fun, carefree weekend.

But as the evening wore on, the reality of your sleeping arrangements became harder to ignore. After a light dinner at the resort's beachfront restaurant, you and Kenma returned to the room, both of you quietly going through your nighttime routines. There was an unspoken understanding between you—no one mentioned the bed.

As you stood in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Kenma through the reflection. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone, seemingly unfazed by the situation. You envied his composure, wishing you could be as cool and collected as he was.

When you finally climbed into bed, you stayed as close to the edge as possible, trying to create some semblance of space between you and Kenma. The mattress was soft, and the sheets were luxurious, but all you could think about was the fact that Kenma was lying just inches away from you.

"Goodnight, Y/N," Kenma said, his voice soft in the darkness.

"Goodnight, Kenma," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You closed your eyes, willing yourself to relax, but sleep didn't come easily. Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, all centered around the man lying next to you. The past few days had been a rollercoaster of revelations and unexpected moments, and now, here you were, sharing a bed with Kenma, the one person who had always seemed just out of reach.