Blue Butterfly | Amajiki Tamaki

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3rd POV

'How conflicting.'

'... How utterly conflicting.'

Burrowing his face into his beach towel, Tamaki let a malcontent, troubled groan escape his lips, the fabric drowning out the incoherent mumbles. His mind was in turmoil and his thoughts in disarray, another groan—this time etched with frustration—floated in the room. His tousled, navy hair swept up in their regular droopy spikes, his pointed ears glowing slightly with a twinge of red as he shifted yet again for the umpteenth time; his knuckles white from clutching onto his towel as he contemplated.

'I-I'm so terrible! Why did I leave like that?! I didn't even finish my drink!' He brooded. 'I'm such a chicken... running away from my own feelings.'

He recalled [Name]'s sweet words back at the cafe, especially her soft, dulcet chuckling and that warm smile that glazed her glossy lips when it was solely the two of them at the table; a timeless conversation that would have carried on if he had simply not scurried away in embarrassment.

He should have stayed put in his seat and listened to what she had to say, and perhaps he might have unraveled hidden emotions amidst the bashful words slipping off her tongue into a pure garland of roses; eventually unfurling his own feelings.

But he bore the heart of a flea, scampering off when the opportunity presented itself.

Tamaki sank his head deeper into his towel, regretting his foolish and rude actions. The growing frustration in his chest contradicted the blossoming fuzziness, his heart swelling and pounding with affection.

'... She said she was happy when people see us as a couple... Does that mean anything? Should I mark it as a good thing? Ugh, I don't know anymore... Why is love so complicated?'

Tamaki didn't know anymore.

Were [Name]'s rosy-caked cheeks and timid stutters a little sign?

Was the scarlet blush that sun-kissed her glowing skin in the luminous light a speck of hope?

His racing thoughts merged into one affinity, sucking in a big breath and exhaling sharply. The doubt that accompanied the idea of her reciprocating his feelings doubled in the pit of his belly, the lick of hope he was clinging onto slowly loosening from his firm grasp. Tamaki grew anxious. He knew he couldn't expect anything from the way things were heading, but Tamaki also knew that solemnly moping around on the spot wouldn't solve anything.

Tamaki needed advice, lifting his dark eyes to peer at the person standing upright beside him; currently weaving a comb through their shiny blonde locks to tidy their messy cowlick. Mirio narrowed his eyes in scrutiny at his bulky reflection in the mirror, perfecting his hairstyle with a satisfied huff.

Quietly fiddling with his fingers, Tamaki suspended his mouth ajar; only to seal it shut when his cayenne orbs took note of his weak attempt in the mirror, swinging his head vigorously to the side. He slowly retreated into his introverted bubble, rubbing his temples to somehow ease his nerves.

'I shouldn't disturb Mirio,' he mused, nervously tugging at his black sleeves.

Despite humming casually in ignorance and turning a blind eye, Mirio had noticed friend's distress from the moment he came crashing down the hall with a pale face, staring wide-eyed at the blonde like he had seen a ghost. Tamaki's small, restless antics were hard to miss, especially if you grew up with him since elementary school. His endless string of grumbles was loud, but not on purpose; Tamaki never sought for attention like a conceited person—that fact alone, he knew.