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8. He's a blunt asshole when he's mad.

Prompt:
"You expect me to know what's wrong but you don't telling me anything!" // "You don't even try to!"

*********

"Oi. You two, I'm gonna go ahead. I don't want to get stuck in between your lover's quarrel. See you tomorrow." Iwaizumi bade the two of you when he saw you inside the club's locker room. No reply came his way, so as soon as he finished stowing his stuff away he left.

Silence followed.

You wished Iwaizumi hadn't left in a hurry — the small shuffling noises he made when he was putting his things away kept the tension in the atmosphere thin, and the impending confrontation at bay. Though it granted you a little time to think things over, the reality that was to follow after hearing Iwaizumi zip his bag, with a finality threw whatever lame plot you were planning to ease the said, as by Iwaizumi's own words "lover's quarrel".
If only it were simple as that. The shutting of the club room's door stirred you away from your reverie and you straightened up from your sitting position on the bench, gaze trained on a stain that was bigger the last time you saw it on the walls of the room. 'And I was here yesterday.'

The man who was leaning on the lockers towards your right heaved a deep sigh, you expected him to say something but you were met with the sound of his footsteps, a locker opening and shuffling one similar to Iwaizumi's, instead of a remark from him, you were met with background noise. 'Spared. I'm still spared a few minutes'

"If you're thinking I'm letting you off, you're wrong. I expect answers y/n right now and if you don't give me one after I'm done putting my things away .." he paused, and clenched his jaw, tiny bits of anger? Frustration? Seeping out his pores.

Minutes passed, and he's halfway through what he's doing and you still haven't budged. His chest tightened, and the scowl he had on his face deepened. 'Great. I even took my time for her. Dammit'. Unaware with his growing anger, he clicked his tongue.

The sound was heavy, and final. It was like a sharp swing of a katana on your neck. He's mad.

Slinging his bag on his shoulders and closing the locker rather loudly, the thud echoing inside the clubroom. He turned to face you, in one swift turn and burned holes into your figure sitting on the bench, head bent down as if the floor is much more interesting than his attempt of patching things up. 'Why was there even a need to patch things up?'

He waited, again. For you to speak what's on your mind, or for you to raise your head and look at him with a stupid face and say 'Gotcha. Aren't I a good actress?' But to his dismay, none of it came.

He started to move towards you, you can see his black trainers in your peripheral view. But you still cast your gaze on the small speck of dust on the floor. He spoke.

"If the floor is way more suitable company than me then I'm going home. Unlike you I'm not too free and I have some errands to do today y/n. So are you going to explain why you're acting so difficult or am I going to take a guess at it again?"

You hate it.

The way he belittled your attitude as you being difficult and the way his tone bordered on one that was like dealing a brat. You know he's looking at you with distaste even without looking up at him. You want to reply, but you can't bring yourself to, not when he's the one who should know about what he did. Why is he acting as if it's your fault the past few days you're avoiding him like the plague.
Your hesitation only added fuel to his anger and he clicked his tongue again as he made his way towards the door.

A reply managed to make its way out of your throat.

"I'm not being difficult Oikawa."

On the scale of 1 to 10, how does someone deal with the stubborness of y/n l/n? Oikawa stopped in his tracks and faced you, who was now looking at him with an impassive look on your on your face.

"Then tell me, what's wrong."

"You should know already .."

He ran his fingers through his messy hair, annoyance visible on his beautiful face. 'Unbelievable'.

He made his way towards you, "This is getting silly. All I did was the same routine y/n, the same things we do ever since we started going out."

'Same routine y/n..' The words rang repeatedly in your head, did he think of your relationship as a routine, does he think of you as a chore or something? That was the last straw.

"So being with me is like a chore to you now?" you choked, despite the tears that pricked your eyelids. "And to think I believed you all these times that you were serious .."

Dumfounded was an understatement. He couldn't understand it at all. He was sure as fucking hell seriois about you, he loves you as much as volleyball for sure but ..

"Out of all the things I said today you're gonna start there?" he dropped his bag and he raised an eyebrow at you.

He loomed over you alright, but you're way too agitated to back down. You stood up from the bench and faced him, more like his chest and glared dead into his eyes. "Ohh so you make it sound like I'm being exasperating now Tōru? Well let's go ahead and start this shall we?"

Before he could retort you started. "I am sick of it! You don't even try to lessen this burden that comes along with going out with you!" You poked your pointer finger at his chest. Repeatedly. "I've been dealing with these every damn day since a week ago! It hurts here! So much, it's so heavy I want to rip it out. And you don't even give a single fucking shit about how hard it was for me to keep you from asking about it."

Your voice cracked in the end, and it came out as a small whimper. He flinched, and crouched to look at you as he held your finger as leverage to pull you close. "What do you mean? Dealing with what?"

You harshly pulled away from him 'This isn't over yet.' "You damn well should know Tōru, hell everyone probably even knows!"
'What?'. "You expect me to know what's wrong but you don't tell me anything!" He emphasized his words by pointing a finger towards himself.

"And that's the thing right there!" You yelled back, frustrated. "You don't even try to!"

"I don't!? You're kidding right?" He scoffed. "Every damn time you're in a bad mood I always ask you what's wrong. Yet you say nothing or I'm okay most of the time dismissively that I don't press further! What's wrong with you!?"

"You should've pressed further you moron!"

"Moron!? You were the one who said we both be honest to each other! That we shouldn't forget to communicate or whatsoever! God I don't understand you at all." He said with finality, along with heavy breaths.

His phone rang before you could reply, he looked at it and then at you. "I'm done y/n. You promised a lot of things that made me think you're so understanding. But it turns out you can't hang on to those. And I was so happy back then, that you're so different." He picked up his bag and headed for the door. "I guess I just broke my heart thinking that."

And he left leaving the words hanging to suffocate you.

'You're getting way too selfish. You know I hate that.'

The moment the door slammed shut, you slumped down the floor and the waterworks began.

This time, it was your fault.
And this time, you don't know if he's ever gonna speak to you again.

*Edit Author's Note:

To be honest, I really want to end this one on a nice note but I can't bring myself to. I am aware it's too vague, yes, but I kind of based it in real life. Not all relationships smooth sail anyway, the frustrations of second-guessing and understanding your partner, I wanted to somehow capture it. Especially the part where everyone can say 'Why don't you just tell them instead of beating around the bush', it's not that easy, what if blurting the truth out in the spur of the moment actually makes things worse or it could really land a devastating blow on your s/o.

Aaaanywayss, I am rambling. Happy Holidays! ;)