♡ Ouran x Reader; One Shots ♡

Tell me why I'm waiting

   Takashi "Mori" x Reader

He wore a calm relaxed expression, you sat next to him on the couch watching as the rain fell onto the cold grounds of Japan. The plans that were once made were now canceled. Much to your dismay, Takashi proposed the idea of a movie kind of day.

"Takashi, we watched the movie like thirty times already. Why can't we just go buy a movie and some food." You whined softly.

"The tsunami warning is still lingering around, we can't be too sure." He responded.

You sighed leaning back and inhaling his scent as your eyes grew heavy slowly, for moments you tried to fight sleep, however, that battle was shortly lost. You found yourself passing out in the arms of your lover.

With that, you sprang up from your bed, your heartbreaking and eyes stinging. It's been three months, three months since you cut it off with your almost a year boyfriend, Morinozuka Takashi. It ended because of a girl, a girl who you grew to hate.

She had long, smooth, flowy jet-black hair and hazel eyes, a fellow half Japanese girl from Tokyo. You should've known the way he looked at her, something was up. You dragged yourself out of bed and into the living room.

You noticed your sister had already made coffee for you, a small yet sad smile creeped onto your face. She knew about what happened, your usual annoying little sister became your best friend. The sound of your phone vibrated on your bed stand.

Your strolled back to the bedroom and grabbed your phone, your heartaches as you see; "Text from Takashi." appear on your phone. Holding your breath, you open the text, your heart drop to your stomach as the text reads;

"Can you return my jacket? I left it at your house." It was bland and simple.

It was clear, he lost all feelings for you, in which he gave to his current girlfriend. You both gave each other everything, your soul, love, and body. He was your first and you were his. Something neither of you could get back.

You felt yourself fall to your knees, your heart was hurting to the point it could bruise your chest. You waited all your life to find someone you could give yourself to, someone you can one day marry.

tell why im waiting for someone, that couldn't give a fuck about me.

"What did I ever do wrong." You questioned yourself.

The sound of raining began, your eyes shifted to the window in your room. The room filled with cold air. Your messy bed hair laid on your shoulders, the sound of sobs escaped your lips. Wet sloppy tears fell down your face, your leftover makeup began to wash off. What did you do wrong? Why did he end it all? What did she have you didn't? Why was it so easy for her to crack his shell? Thousands of questions raced through your head.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I couldn't be perfect." You began to cry out. "I'm sorry I couldn't be everything you needed. I'm so fucking sorry." You continued as tears fell violently from your eyes. The violent tears caused your body shake to the core, the cold air gave you goosebumps, your stomach turned around.

"Tell me, why am I still waiting for him to love me again? Tell me, why am I waiting for someone who couldn't give a fuck about me." You asked yourself.

Grabbing at the heart necklace around your neck you gripped it tightly. Your nose ran from all the tears, your eyes shifted to the still framed picture of you and him visiting Osaka, photobombing Tamaki and Kyoya.

"___.." a voice called.

You wiped your red eyes and glanced at the voice calling you, there he stood holding a box of your things. Takashi wore a unreadable expression, your heart finally broke.

"T-Takashi.." you replied.

"I'm sorry." Was all he said as he placed the small box on your bed.

You couldn't bear to reach out to touch him, it felt too fake, too cruel. Crying your heart out, how long was he there, why didn't he comfort you? He just watched you cry, watched you break finally, he truly didn't give a fuck about you.

But silly girl, you were wrong, he did. He cared more than anything, he watched you break in pain, he held back the urge to grab you and pull you close and kiss you better. He couldn't fix you, he messed up and he knew saying sorry won't fix your broken heart.

All you knew was, he didn't give a fuck about you, nothing more. Not even how he felt, he was too scared to admit his wrong doing, he was too scared to tell you the truth. Perhaps he didn't give a fuck about you.