the language of flowers | akaashi keiji ✓

06 ❀ gladiolus

"she's resting at the moment but you can still go in if you'd like."

"okay." akaashi's gentle grip unconsciously tightened around the thin, fragile stems of the gladiolas in his hand to the point where he was almost crushing them.

her sleeping figure was the first thing his eyes landed on before he even stepped foot in the room; the second was how the previous flowers he had brought her were the only things painting the stark white room with vivid colors.

upon seeing (y/n), a smile graced his face but his gaze contained a hint of something else that contrasted sharply with the formation his lips were making.

setting down the gladiolas — that, fortunately, were not crushed — where she would notice them when she woke sometime later, he knelt by the bed side and brushed back a few strands of her (h/c) hair that had strayed to her face.

"you've always cheered me on during my volleyball matches," he murmured, his larger hand enveloping her smaller one. "and it always gave me the strength and determination i needed."

his thumb lightly traced over the protruding outline of the veins on the back of her hand. "i wish i could do something to help you." he sighed, planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

before leaving so that she could have an undisturbed rest, he casted a glance back at the notecard he'd faced towards her.

strength / determination
you make me strong whenever i am weak and you give me determination because everything i do, i do for you