HONEY CULTURE, haikyuu

( angel's playground ) s. kiyoomi

sakusa kiyoomi

     𝕾akusa knows; that he is once again a hostage to those deep, deep deep eyes that always makes him frozen stiff to the bone. he remembered the first time he saw those bright eyes, the only eyes that seem to glisten within the playground filled with children's laughter.

     the only eyes that shared kindness and warmth and the way it brightens up with stars and galaxies whenever you glance up at him. And the way those eyes makes his heart thaw - makes his hands tremble like its winter and how he felt butterflies in his chest and it's like he's seeing an angel right in front of him, bright and innocent and golden and his dark eyes sparkle like twinkling stars and it melts under the warmth and drips drips drips from his eyelashes and down the soft apple of his cheeks leaving a golden path shimmering like expensive gems. if his metaphors were to come true people would think he is a saint, but in truth you were the reason why the always cold and quiet sakusa kiyoomi looked like he was reborn again.

    breathless. speechless. absolutely beautiful.

     he knew from that faithful encounter, that you had caught his heart in an instant. The young boy who was always alone in the playground - meeting such a delicate goddess who offered to him a hand that radiated such genuine warmth.

    "hey sakkun. look what I've got."

    he blinks back, reality painting colours within his eyes. he turns and looks down and sees you standing there and for a moment he had forgotten how to breathe, how to move, how to blink, how to play volleyball. he sometimes curse you on how much you made him feel awfully drunk whenever he was around you.

    head spinning. feet wobbling. breathing unsteady-

    "what are those?" he barely composes himself and narrows his eyes, voice laced with suspicion. you smile at him again, bright and free and you let out a little laugh that dropped marshmallows and candies that almost made him choke out.

    "they're flowers silly!" you say. "i bought them just for you."

    "ughk." he turns away and tugs his mask like it wasn't impossibly closer to his face to rid of any filthy air that might have escaped from those crimson-dripping flowers and into his lungs, and his murmur was almost feather-like.

     "give them to komori or something. i don't want it,"

    "you're no fun, sakkun." you tug on his sleeve with a whine but he wouldn't look at you. you frowned, thinking that he wouldn't look at you because he felt annoyed.

     but sakusa lifts his hand and tugs his mask ones again. he clicks his tongue as he felt a burning blush crawling up his cheeks. he wouldn't admit it to you, how his heart could just beat right out of his chest.

    one, two, three thumps that could form into a soft lullaby he would listen to everyday.

    he wouldn't admit to you, how you looked absolutely perfect standing there with flowers in your hands and a bright and carefree smile that he wants nothing more than to kiss until it's summer once again. you were a being that came straight from the heavens, how mesmerising and angelic you looked, eyes that stabbed so many knives into his heart.

   lne, two, three and a million more he failed to count. and butterflies had erupted and fluttered lightly into the expanse and empty caves of his heart.