The art of love (Oikawa x suicidal reader)

Chapter 2

"Y/N"

I couldn't believe my ears. I froze in my seat, unsure of what to do.

"Y/N?" Oikawa called again, searching the room for the person the name belonged to. That person was me.

I hesitantly stood up, not daring to look him in the eyes. "That's me..." I almost whispered. Oikawa bounds over to me with the same huge grin he gave me earlier.

He sits down in the seat next to me, and the teacher continues calling out names. Except most people weren't listening, they were looking at me. I could sense jealously being directed at me, but I tried my hardest to ignore it.

Oikawa leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.

"Well well, it's my little artist from earlier. What are the chances of getting put with you?"

I cringe at the nickname, but continue staring down at my workbook, trying to block him out (with little luck).

"How lucky are you, getting put with me of all people? I just know deep down your screaming with excitement! After all, who wouldnt give everything to be with me?"

I really want to smack him. Instead I look over at him, with the most annoyed expression I can pull. It doesnt work, he only gives me a small grin.

"Oh, dont be like that, I know you love me really."

I frown and turn back to look at my workbook. God must hate me.

I try to concentrate of what the teacher is saying, despite having plenty of Oikawa's fangirls eyeing me with jealously.

"So, for your project, you are going to work in you pairs to create a peice of art. It can be in any form you like, but it must be creative and high quality. The theme is 'alive'. Basically, your peice needs to show what being alive means to you."

I heavily circle the word 'alive' in my notebook. I look at the word on the page, feeling empty. What is that supposed to mean? What being alive means to me?

I stare blankly at the word for several minutes, before suddenly I'm snapped awake by a familiar voice.

"I guess I'm lucky I've got such a good artist as a partner. I look forward to working with you!" Oikawa smiles brightly at me, the kind of smile you could never get fed up of.

For a moment, I'm hypnotized by him, but I quickly turn away and say blankly "yeah, whatever..."

Just then, the bell rings, and I immediately pack my notebook in my bag and hurry out of the classroom.

'Alive'

The word keeps ringing through my head as I make my way to the school gates. It's been a long time since I've felt alive, so I have no idea what I'll do for the project.

The stress of today's events caught up to me as I got home. I dropped my back and slumped on the floor, leaning against the door.

"Shit." I say out loud.

I get up, and walk past my father, who is passed out on the couch. The TV blares loudly, and lights up the room, but I cant hear what it's saying.

I make my way upstairs to the bathroom, desperately open the cupboard door and pull out my razor blade.

I think about all that has happened today, as I slice at my left arm. The sudden pain is somehow relieving. Seeing the blood trickling down my arm puts me at ease.

After a while, I put the blade back, clean myself and bandage my arm. I know the cuts are going to leave more scars, but I dont care. It's not like anyone would care if they saw them.

This had become a habit for me. I was doing it nearly everyday. I wonder if I'd ever be brave enough to go all the way.

I go to my room and lay on my bed, trying to come up with an idea for the art project, but my head is empty.

What does it mean to be alive?

I sigh and pull my pillow over my face. As much as I hated it, I realised that I couldn't do the project alone like I had planned.

I would have to ask Oikawa for help.