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Sakusa wanted to scream. You got him confused, frustrated, his mind warping around an endless, tangled ball of ropes awaiting to be unknotted but can never actually be touched. You did things, small things, and he fell for it. All of it. Yet you just stood there with your lips covered in strawberry ice cream, and somehow, he felt like licking those lips with his tongue.
"I may love ice cream, but you might be my favourite, just sightly more though."
You spoke with a toothy grin like a child caught red handed from stealing the cookies on the top shelf. Sakusa furrows his brows, before pushing his mask further up the bridge of his nose. Afraid that if you looked too closely, you'd see the field of roses crawling onto his cheeks. He hated how his heart fluttered butterflies from your smiles when you were looking so out of place with those ice cream stains. It was a mess, an unforgiving mess but a perfectly crafted mess turned into an artwork.
Sakusa adverts your eyes, and gazes to the floor like it was the only thing that mattered in his eyes. He couldn't look at you, not when his butterflies wouldn't stop fluttering in every space or how his cheeks were burning red. But you already had your fingers laced around his mask, tugging it down until your tongue slipped in between his teeth. Your lips fell in sync with his, licking the taste of strawberries and milk from the tip of each other's tongue. It was sweet, too sweet.
"Who knew you would taste sweeter than strawberry ice cream?"
