HONEY CULTURE, haikyuu

( lovely mess ) m. atsumu

miya atsumu

   𝕭lue, yellow, white and red dipped flowers were pushed towards her face. no words were said, as she looked at the person behind the batches of colourful bouquet. his face was recognisable in her eyes, she could never forgot those soft eyes that stared back at her.

    it reminded her of dandelions.

    "what's this?"

    "what, can't i give flowers to my girlfriend?"

    just like his face, his words were just as flowering. It made the winds caress a field of strawberries into her cheeks. from the proximity she could smell the earthly scent of fresh dew, she smiled and counted six petals in each flower, stained with morning's colour. she reaches out to take the flowers from his fingertips and he leans in to paint a kiss upon her lips.

    even the feel of his lips made her drown in euphoria. (y/n) was a lucky girl to be showered in the affection of miya atsumu, to have his fingers sketch across her naked skin making anyone melt away. one thing that made her want to stare deeper into the boy's features were his honey maple eyes, its like his pooled-orbs were a museum filled with intricacy reeling her deeper into the odds.

    atsumu adored her, and she was drunken in love. the feathers of her mighty wings slowly fluttering away as she fell deeper and deeper into his warm embraces dipped with many colours beyond her expectations.

    his kisses and affection taste like honey, addicting and sweet.

    yet even the sweetest taste has its bittersweet moments.

    "(l/n)." she was expecting her lover to greet her, but instead she was face-to-face with his brother, osamu. he looked like a carbon copy of atsumu, but instead of honey maple he reminded her of coffee drops. lukewarm and mellow, a great contrast to her sweet atsumu.

    "osamu-san."

    "how is tsumu treating yer recently?" his words left confusing notes into her mind, a frown presented upon (y/n)'s lips.

    "what do you mean?"

    the apathetic eyes of osamu seemed concerned for ones as a scattered sigh leaves his lips. "i'm just checking up on you is all, but just a food for thought atsumu could be unpredictable. he is a man who can never be satisfied over one taste. so if something bothers you about him feel free to come talk to me 'bout it so i could give 'im and his simple pea brain a few wacks."

    osamu left her in a frowning form. (y/n) had always thought that osamu was mature than his brother but for ones she thought his statements were nonsense.

   she should've listened, because ever since that day she knows one thing that atsumu wanted to do,

    lying.

    as the girl's mind trails back to the blissful days she wondered how many girls he had kissed behind her back, how many flowers he had gave that were originally her gifts. how many times his fingers sketch onto the naked flesh of others while he held onto (y/n) the next. she was foolish to not notice how his excuses would always be pathetic just so he could shamelessly flirt with others instead of spending those times with her. she described atsumu as a cycle that never stuck to one season, constantly switching from one thing to the other.

   he was a honey that never stuck to one taste.

    and now everytime he touches her - instead of flowers blooming into the surface of her flesh she feels the pinpricks of thorn roses growing deeper beneath her skin making her bleed internally in utter silence and pain. his kisses turned bitter and eyes that made her drown in asphyxia. her breathing always turned shallow when he was close, he made her breathless in a painful way and she didn't know when his sudden presence made her feel utterly sickening.

    atsumu adored her naive mind as she was drunken in love. the feathers of her mighty wings were slowly plucked as she fell deeper and deeper into his caged embrace dipped with many colours that were beyond her liking, pressuring her.

    at first he became an addiction, she would be restless without him and would always be thrilled whenever she was around him. she liked his taste that she labelled him with the title of oxygen - that she could not survive without him. but she was asking too much and the growing need for it turned unhealthy, it made her feel pathetic, like a bane ichor was coursing through her veins.

   and until one day, she has had enough.

    "(y/n)-chan," atsumu had wind his arms around the girl's shoulder, giving his girlfriend a warm embrace and pressing kisses on her neck. but when the honey-eyed male peer over her, he noticed the bouquet he had given to her watching in confusion as she slowly plucked away its six petals like an unemotional doll, it scatters beneath her toes.

    he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not,

    with a long exhale the girl he had thought that loved him spoke words that he was not expecting.

    "atsumu let's break up." you were my happy pills, and I was just another victim to your silent crimes.

    we are nothing more than just a lovely mess.

end.