You placed two cardboard boxes on the floor of your apartment bedroom, giving your new friend who was going to share the apartment with you a quick thank you.
You were just beginning your second year at the university, and your first year as student assistant coach for the boy's volleyball team. Originally, you hadn't wanted to do anything with volleyball at all, after just having been told you could no longer play for the university because of overworking your knee beyond repair.
But, with the persuasion of the coach, who coincidentally is your uncle, did you decide to join the team. So here you were, unpacking your belongings with the co- captain, who your uncle absolutely adored.
"Hey, don't worry about carrying the rest of my boxes in, I'll get them. Go unpack your stuff you're working too hard." You said looking up from the current box in your hand. The dark haired boy nodded his head, leaning against the doorway of your room with a stoic expression on his handsome features.
"Geez, do you ever smile Iwaizumi-san?" You asked jokingly, as the unamaused look on his face broke out into a smile.
"You're just like your uncle." Iwaizumi replied, tucking his hands in his sweat pant pockets.
"My uncle is a 48 year old man with a sparse amount of hair left on his head, I think that's an insult Iwaiziumi-san." You tried keeping a frown on your face, but it curled into a smile as he chuckled.
" You really don't have to call me that. Call me Hajime, I don't think I'd be able to live with hearing Iwaizumi-san every day."
You picked up a box off the floor, before standing up to face the taller dark-haired boy. "Deal... but under two conditions, you make breakfast tomorrow morning and call me (f/n) from here on out."
The boy laughed, his eyes sparkling with pure amusement. " Deal. I'm going to go start unpacking my stuff in my room, call me if you need anything." He said, before disappearing out of the doorway down the hallway.
Nice guy, you thought, before taking out some of your old volleyball clothes and spreading them out onto the bed. You'd never seen your roommate play before, you only knew that he was in his second year at the university as well, and he was already co-captain. Which, you figured, meant that he had to be exceptionally good at volleyball. Everybody knew him, as well as did they know you. The university might be large but so was both of your reputations as star athletes. Heck, you were featured on the front page of several volleyball magazine issues throughout your high school and college career.
You were the star setter for your volleyball team, although it was just your first year being a college student. But, during a game against the university's biggest rival, you injured your knee from falling into the scoreboard table, saving a stray ball and sending it to your wing spiker, scoring the match point and securing your win as number one team in your league.
After the fall you tried getting up, but you couldn't stand, the pain was absolutely excruciating and your knee didn't move how it properly should. You had overworked yourself so much during the season that you destroyed your already bad knee, tearing several ligaments and a few tendons, bringing your volleyball career to an end for good. You were absolutely heart broken.
You definitely missed it, but you learned a lot, even making a few really good friends from your school Shiratorizawa in Miyagi, two of whom followed you to the same university.
You were torn from your memories as you heard a repeated loud knocking sequence on the front door.
"I got it!" You called out to Iwaizumi, walking out of the bedroom past the living room and kitchen to the front door.
The person repeated their series of obnoxious knocks, who was this person? You didn't think any of you or your roommate's friends were going to drop by until everything had been unpacked. Cautiously, you opened the door, revealing a handsome, brown haired, chocolate eyed boy.
"Surprise Iwa-chan! Wait... you're not Iwa-chan." The boy said, studying you, a very attractive female standing in the doorway of his best friend's new apartment.
"That you are correct. What gave it away? The longer hair or feminine figure?" You sarcastically retorted, uncomfortable with his wandering eyes roaming over your body.
"I can't believe one of my own beautiful fans followed my best friend to his apartment, in hopes of seeing me! I feel so honored." He gave you a disgustingly fake smile, to which you groaned at.
Who was this dude? You sort of recognized him, but you weren't sure from where but right now the big question was just how narcissistic was this dude? His own fan club? He must have an incredible amount of faith in his looks.
" I have no clue who you are. But please, refrain from wearing that b.s smile in front of me, it ain't fooling anyone." You didn't even try to hide the disgusted look on your face as his fake smile grew into a pout.
"What? You're not one of my fans that admire me for my handsome looks?" He asked, puzzled.
You rolled your eyes, not sure if they would ever return from the back of your head as you sighed exasperatedly. The more he spoke the more respect you lost for him.
"Geez you're just like every other guy huh? Looks don't make up for a trashy personality." The look on his face contorted into something between a forced smile and irritation.
"Oh. I've see you've met roommate, Trashykawa. This is (l/n)(f/n)." A deep voice said from behind you, as your roomie opened up the door wider, revealing an annoyed look on his face as well. At least you were both in the same boat about this guy.
"Hey. So I was right about your trashy personality, lucky guess." You said with a smile as you crossed your arms while Iwaizumi let out a low chuckle, clearly surprised you didn't swoon over him like every other girl did. Any doubts and concerns Iwaizumi had instantly disappeared, deciding that you two would get along just fine.
YOU ARE READING
The Perfect Face ||Oikawa Tooru x Reader||
Fanfiction(Oikawa Tooru x reader) Never once in his life has he met someone who was as talented, as intelligent, and as attractive as himself. Nor had he met someone who could easily see through the perfect mask he wore, but you did. The girl with the 'flawle...