Haikyuu x Reader

Broken Pieces - Miya Atsumu

*Part 2 to 'Missing Pieces'*

*Please Note: This part includes some very mild implications of sex (I think it's like, one or two lines), if that would make you uncomfortable, please feel free to skip!*

He didn't want to look at you. He didn't want to see what he already knew. If he looked at your face and saw all of those brand new tears streaming down your cheeks, everything he had just done would finally hit him. He'd have to face the fact that he alone ripped your heart out of your chest and tore it to shreds.

He was quick to cover his torso with a new shirt. Quick to cover up the physical reminders of his sins. But, that quiet nickname, the name that you'd been calling him since you met, the name that he'd come to love so much, the name that left your lips in the most intimate of moments was now filled with sorrow. The heartbreak evident in that single word kept echoing through his head, reminding him off all the times that he's laid awake, listening to your quiet sniffles because of him. Because he was far less than everything you could have wanted in a boyfriend. Because he kept all of his emotions bottled up inside his chest and just shoved you out when things got hard for him.

He didn't want to look at you. But he did.

You didn't look angry. Atsumu would've preferred that to this. He would have preferred that you sat there and yelled at him, calling him every explicative in the book. He was well aware that he deserved it, but you showed no intention of taking all of your pain out on him. Rather, you just sat on your side of the bed, sad eyes staring at his swollen kiss-ridden lips, at the deep bruises that crept up his throat, at his blonde hair that had had a set of fingers that didn't belong to you raking through it only a mere hour earlier. The soft glisten of tears on your cheeks and red puffy eyes being highlighted in the rays of the setting sun. You kept looking like you wanted to say something, but every time your mouth moved, you would catch yourself just letting out a quiet whimper instead of words and clamp your jaw shut again.

Atsumu didn't want to look at you anymore, so he turned away. He turned away and those missing pieces to the puzzle that he had been keeping from you had been crumpled to an irreparable state. He turned his back on apologizing, shame washing over him as his own words failed him. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block your image from his mind. He didn't want to see the black stains of mascara adding to the pained expression.

It didn't matter what he wanted though, because no matter how many times he tried to steer his mind away from everything, he'd remember your bright smile there to greet him after practice every day, your eyes crinkled in happiness as you would lean up to kiss his cheek, but just as soon as those mental images would start to warm his heart, your face would morph in his head. He'd be right back to the present image of your face branded into his memory.

There's a soft sniff and the bed springs squeak as you get out of bed.

"I'm sorry."

Those small words leaving your lips felt like a knife to his heart. You were apologizing to him? Why? He was the one who ran off and cheated. He should be the one on his knees, grovelling for forgiveness, but rather, your head was hung as you stood behind, your words still fresh on your lips.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't make you happy, 'mu."

Another stab. There was a tremble in your voice. He knows that tremble. It's always there when you're upset. He used to hold you against his chest and quietly tell you that everything was going to be okay while tears left damp circles on his t-shirt. Atsumu couldn't remember the last time he had done that though. It'd been a long time, that's for sure. He'd been pushing you away for months now, the shame of his lies bubbling up in his chest every time you would look into his eyes. It was better to just keep you at an arm's length and let him work through everything himself. He thought that maybe this would make him feel better. Maybe if someone else was there to tell him how great he was, he'd get out of whatever slump he was in, but he just kept burying himself deeper and deeper into this pit, desperately trying to crawl his way up and come back to you.