depth of darkness || nakahara chuuya x reader

21

"you really are just so pretty."

you freeze at the words. the unexpectedness of them hitting you full force as you process them.

you raise your eyebrows, intent on passing off the comment as simple drunk blabber. "don't you think you should get home if you're this drunk?" you question, a sudden edge to your tone as you carefully regard him with a distant expression.

do those words even mean anything to you? or is the alcohol speaking instead?

chuuya makes a pouty face, as if something he wanted wasn't being given to him, and the corners of your mouth twitch with a smile. his sharp features are captured in the glow of the street lights, and your heart seems to sprout a set of wings, flapping fervently against its cage as if it were attempting to leave.

"but-" he cute himself off, scratching his forehead as his pouting grows a little frustrated. you wait patiently for the red haired man to collect his thoughts, find the words he's trying to get out.

"i mean it." he scowls at the ground, a shadow cast across his eyes from his hat. you tilt your head, a puzzled expression taking over your face.

"what?" you question, watching the eyes of the man in front of you intently, eyebrows creased together in a frown.

"that you're just really pretty." be sighs, taking a step forward down the sidewalk.

"where are you going?" you ask, a sudden strange tone to your voice. one you hadn't meant to have.

"a walk." he frowns, tugging at the hem of his gloves as he speaks, watching the sidewalk beneath his feet intently.

you grow confused at his sudden change in demeanor. "why? didn't i tell you that you should go home?" you step towards the executive, placing a hand on his shoulder as he turns to look at you. his azure eyes are glazed over and his pupils dilated from the drinks he's had.

"i don't want to go home. i want to walk." he pouts again, crossing his arms petulantly as he does. you sigh, and shrug your shoulders weakly.

"is that really a good idea?" you can't help the slightest bit of concern you feel bubbling up in your chest. you ignore it, and study chuuya's expression thoughtfully. he looks confused at first, and then an insulted look flashes across his face.

"i'm the vessel for the god of mayhem!" he exclaims, the words coming out slurred due to his intoxicated starts, he throws his arms up in exasperation. "i can take care of myself! i'm not a child!"

you roll your eyes, patience running out quickly already. "then go be a child on your walk. be careful. i'm going home." you spin on your heel, and begin making your way back towards the port mafia HQ, intent on ignoring the fact that this entire conversation really just happened.

"but y/n..." chuuya's soft tone speaks up from behind you, compelling you to pause in your steps and turn towards him once again.

you hum, encouraging chuuya to continue.

"why do you-" he cuts himself off, a contemplative look in his eyes before he shuts his mouth again, shoving his hands into his pockets before turning away abruptly. "get home safe."

you roll your eyes again, a small smile breaking out onto your lips. "i should be telling you that." you grin, pushing away the curiosity of what it was he had been trying to say.

he called me pretty.

twice.

with the smile still dancing on your lips as you continue your walk back to HQ, you contemplate all of your unnecessary, and completely barbaric ideas of what chuuya had been trying to say, each one supplied very unhelpfully by your brain.

once you finally gotten back to your room, and had cleaned off all of today's makeup and successfully gotten ready for bed, you turned out the lights.

your chest continues to swarm with butterflies as the red haired executive continues to plague your thoughts, and you stay awake a while longer contemplating the feelings you hold for chuuya, the ones like no other feeling you've felt before.

it was like a dumb crush, ones you used to get on boys in your elementary school, but you've long forgotten the faces of all of your peers, and these feelings are amplified by a million. to a point where it's difficult to discern their origin.

he looked so hurt when you had ignored his compliments, and the feeling of wanting to keep that same hurt expression off his face forever took over like an unexpected bomb, and you sigh at the confusion of it all.

just when you finally feel consciousness beginning to slip away, and the subtle drifting off into sleep begins to grasp at your brain, you hear the familiar, annoying ring of your phone.

you can't help but growl in irritation as you reach across to pluck the ringing device off of your bedside table, answering the phone and putting it to your ear, mumbling an irritated "huh?" into the phone.

"i didn't say it. and i don't know why." the executives voice rings through your head, causing you to clench your fist, anticipating his next words anxiously.

what could he possibly want to say?

"i think you're pretty." his voice drawls through the receiver, causing you to sigh in response, shaking your head.

you're losing sleep over something he's already said twice.

"actually you did say that. twice might i add." you tease quietly, ignoring the slight disappointment that that was all he had wanted to say.

"no." he said quickly, a stern edge to his tone. "i mean yes, i said that. but that's only part of it."

you hold your breath, staying completely still as you wait for him to continue. you can barely decide if what you're feeling is nervousness or excitement, but are quick to level with both.

"i like you a lot. i think you're strangely wonderful." his words both cause panic to erupt inside you, and a giddy, happy feeling. you cling to the panic. it's safe, isn't it? "but i don't know what you think of me. i jus-"

he's cut off when the line goes dead, and you stare, wide-eyed at your phone, and your thumb hovering over where the end call button would've been.

you drop your phone onto your bed beside you, breathing heavily as your mind is flooded with so many thoughts of "what did i just do?" "i didn't mean to" and so on. your fear got the best of you again, and you find yourself instead of calling back, you roll over to face the other side of the room, because what would you even say to him? you don't even know how feel yourself.

how are you to understand what you feel completely? how do you figure it out?