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He told you to forget him, like it was all some sort of a translucent dream. But each time you smelt the lingering scent of morning, or even the moonlight staining the sheets on your bed, it only reminded you of him. Kuroo, the physical being of a translucent dream.
"It has always been you, always."
You whisper out of breath, the intoxicated air was beginning to suffocate you. Even the veins running through your bloodstream was craving for your lover, you wanted to touch him. To feel his skin against yours like you did for first time. But instead, you gawk into his glassy eyes. It held a reflection of a void; you weren't familiar with it.
"But for me, it was never you."
His statement was sharp, defying every fibre in your body. Like the translucent dream he is, Kuroo brushes past your shoulders. He was half way out the door, a tension of a thunderstorm growing between the two of you. When Kuroo held onto the handle of the door, your throat became dry. His next four words were enough to silence the thunderstorm.
