delude || oikawa.t x reader

|6| radiant yet empty

Oikawa couldn't help but realize how (F/n)'s schedule fits his nearly in sync. Nevertheless, she never tried to hog his time as she believes that it's good for him to pursue volleyball when he needed to do so.

Exceptionally, he loves it when they meet in the most random and unexpected moments, it would be Oikawa shooting a smile and (F/n) replying it with a nod. They kept their friendship behind closed doors, unknown to the students in Aoba Johsai. Except for the boys' volleyball club due to Oikawa's high pride on showing off that he's friends with his idol.

"Where's Oikawa?" Hanamaki asks no one in particular. The classic third years gang sitting on their usual spot. Matsukawa shrugs, and Iwaizumi doesn't give any sort of indication at all. Then, Hanamaki prods the ace "Iwaizumi?"

Iwaizumi held the urge to roll his eyes, are they that oblivious? Seems like it. "Messing with (F/n), I'm guessing," he says as if it's the most obvious thing ever. Genuinely, he wanted to drag Oikawa off from the author, but then for once Oikawa made it clear enough for his childhood friend to not interrupt him when it comes to (F/n). It's quite unusual he must say.

Though, he's correct. Oikawa is currently talking to (F/n) in the art club again, and he didn't really plan to actually intrude her more than he had estimated when they hung out for the first time.

Oikawa isn't the type to be satisfied easily. However, he finds satisfaction by everything he does with (F/n).

Inside the art club room was enough, everything they do in this school whilst staying secretive is enough, for now, that is. Oikawa sat beside her obediently, stealing glances at (F/n) as he pretends to look outside the window within the quiet room. In her composed expression, he could see the undying wave of emotions grasping her neck, yet she proceeds to keep it beneath her soothing features in order to let it decompose eventually.

Then, he reaches out to her hands that are strikingly smaller than his. "Your hands are small," Oikawa murmurs to himself, acknowledging those multiple band-aids that covers some of (F/n)'s fingers. Obviously bruised from overworking herself. "Does it hurt?" he asks the obvious, stroking her fingers with gentle mannerisms. 

"Not that much," (F/n) answers, pulling away from his touch. Making Oikawa frown slightly from her rejection. The setter wanted to hold her hands longer and feel her warmth, but it seems like she isn't very fond of it herself. Although, that actually only applies to people whom she doesn't know for a long time. 

"When do you plan on stopping... this?" (F/n) asks, slightly hesitating.

It's been two weeks, and Oikawa seemed to come in with her more frequently than she imagined, which she grew impatient to much quicker than she expected. He raises an eyebrow, not because he has no idea what she meant that, presumably that she placed such low expectations for him. Did she really think he'd let her go easily?

Oikawa sighs━but smiling, he stood up from his seat only to startle her slightly by his sudden movement. 

"That's funny, I don't plan on doing that at all,"

His attractive features were supported by the light reflecting from the window. (F/n) finally takes a moment to realize how much he'd grown familiar with talking to her now. For him to be such a handsome individual trying to get her to befriend her is something Oikawa's fans would die for.

"I didn't know you're this much of a fan with my works, Oikawa," she gapes, amused by his words that sounded like a declaration. 

"W-Well, I guess I was a bit rusty at first! But I really want to know you better, as a person,"
Oikawa mentally curses to himself for stuttering, being called a fanboy even if he's one is something new for him.

The moment she mentions their first encounter made him flustered, his worries about the girl were flushed away as her (e/c) eyes fluttered with such beauty engraved with desolation. Everything about her resembles her book too closely, for a girl who he sees to be very astonishing, the constant state of grief she's in made something inside him drop, only to splatter on the ground messily.

━boring
Everything except death is temporary. Your happiness, your family, your wealth. It terrifies me how you can lose everything you have at any time. Therefore, if God really exists, he would've answered my prayers of becoming a happy person in the future when I was a child, but I guess since he never answered my prayers, he doesn't exist.

Or perhaps I'm being impatient? I don't know, maybe I am.
I sometimes salute for those who has their life worse then mine, yet still believes they should be alive and make the most out of it. You're all going to die anyways, what was the point to live to begin with? Why would you waste your efforts on transcending others when everything you work for will basically be useless for yourself in the end? Why does God create humans and made them follow his orders if he's just going to tear everything apart into nothingness? What's the point?

I don't see the merit in that. Sure, you can help people with it, or save some, but what's the point for you? Does anything even matter in the end?

There's so many children who died before they were even born, sometimes I wish I could replace my soul with theirs who wants to be alive. I never really wanted to exist with, the concept of death is just scary in general, I wonder when will I overcome this fear of mine?

If almost everything is temporary, then my fear would be temporary too.
I'd rather lose my fear before fate takes it away from me in an unexpected time, I wonder how it feels like to commit suicide. Do you feel afraid? Does life really flashes right before your last breath?

I'm selfish. I won't live for someone else. Living under someone's hope is tiring, in the end it'll always be them, and never me. I sound like a selfish person, don't I?

Oikawa knows that (F/n)'s current mental state isn't in the best condition judging from the books. She is aware that Oikawa understands the small tint of bleakness she tries to cover. They learn these things without the need to exchange words to each other, it's fascinating, almost. Although, he won't force her, he'll let her take her time to trust him no matter how much he wanted to know more about (F/n).

"Would you like to exchange numbers?" Oikawa asks, subtly taking out his phone that's inside his pocket. Awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as their eyes finally met each other.

Birds chirping, the echoes from the hallways that could be heard inside the room, her voice ushering him to remind him how beautiful someone can be.

"...Mhm, that would be nice,"

Ah, why does everything about her feels so nostalgic? 
Something about her makes him feel like he'd forgotten about something important yet vague. Oikawa's thoughts kept negate to one another and even he has no idea what he's trying to remember at this point. It's impossible for her to be a friend of his, his memory isn't that bad until he's incapable to remember someone with such dignified features and also a congenital liar. 

Then, Oikawa retracts to the canvas (F/n) is pouring her emotions on instead. It makes him feel sullen and realize how talented she is to even let her viewers feel the emotions she shoved into the surface of a mere white and plain object. 

From time to time, he learns to see the beauty in the most dim and complex things.