Cliché (Miya Atsumu)

27

When I'm isolated, I'm often thinking to myself.

Sometimes I intuitively drift my thoughts to (Y/N) instead. And it's been like this way since long ago oddly enough. It's this habitual occurrence that happens randomly out the blue and unconsciously too.

When it first started happening, a large part of me was completely certain that it was just a phase. But then this "phase" didn't stop and continued to follow me around whenever I was in a quiet space or simply by myself – strangely, I was never bothered by this.

It's even more strange whenever you think of that person and they're exactly there in front of you. I suppose it's some sort of self-evidence to show how much you're head over heels with them. And when they're more than content to go along with it, you subsequently have more evidence to show how much they're over the moon about you too.

When you begin to reflect more about others optimistically than yourself without noticing, it determines that you can be a selfless person.

Like right now, I was optimistically thinking about (Y/N). I hope with that in mind, it makes me a selfless individual for her.

Currently, it's almost 4 in the morning when I looked at my phone screen a few minutes ago.

And we were evidently, very sleepy; utterly tired after what felt like a period of hazy events earlier.

Listening to the gentle sounds of a particular individual sleeping calmly next to me is nothing new. Spending time with each other is nothing exceedingly apprehensive as we do it so much. Additionally, special nights like this were not our first and won't be our last either...

Yet, why does my heart flutter hopelessly during these moments nonetheless? Why was it always so breathtaking to experience?

I knew for a fact that the budget hotel we were staying in is not the most romantic place in the world. Especially when examining the dullness and minimalist design done in our accommodation; you can practically tell that this place was built for last-minute resources.
Well to be honest, at first, I thought it was quite good of a room, but the longer I stayed here, the more it began to look like how much it's actually worth.

It was undoubtedly very clean when we walked in, but I forgot to describe how it was also distinctly empty with no lamps or bedroom accessories whatsoever. The only aesthetic it held was the window blinds and the slow, turning ceiling fan.

There are two lights in the room, one in the small bathroom which was close to our bed and one for the whole place itself.

But even the light seemed cheap. 

When you turn it on it makes a yellow-ish sort of flickering color, and if you're quiet enough you can hear it buzzing ever so softly. The light neither seemed too dim nor did it seem too bright, but I was not obsessed over it anyways.

In general, the room was now messier than comparing to how it looked in the beginning. The outdoor clothing we were wearing before we got inside are now scattered all over on the floor, and our shoes are untidily separated somewhere in the ground area, I'm not awfully sure where.

The cleanlier clothes we have on are just as bland to match the dusky surroundings.

(Y/N) idly had on a spare shirt only which was once mine but now embraces her scent. I was wearing whatever comfortable things I could find in my drawers, no different to her style – although, somehow she still manages to look perfectly pretty as I look I spent my whole damn week wearing this.