your heartbeat accelerates with each step that advances toward you. even at his happiest, iwaizumi's gait turned the heads of those who didn't know him any better. the silence of your home only amplified his steps; and the racing of your heart. no words were exchanged between the both of you, but you knew all too well what he wanted. how could you not, after four long, grueling hours of giving him those bedroom eyes you know how to do all too well.
four hours: you laughed at other mens jokes, complimented other mens clothes; you were with other men. though, to your credit, your eyes never left iwa. but your body, it was elsewhere.
your final mistake that night was grabbing oikawa tooru's arm while laughing at his own flirtatious twist on an explicit story about iwa's final year at seijoh, just the year before. before you could retract your arm, it was ripped away by an all too familiar hand. the only things you could process were a few quick, "sorry, but we have to leave, emergency"s before you felt the snipping air of fall bite at your exposed skin.
the drive home was deafeningly suffocating. why was he so upset? you only grabbed his arm. the story was funny, is he embarrassed? you just couldn't understand.
now in a dark home, with only silence and a 5'10 stoic man to accompany you did you realize your mistake. it was oikawa tooru, after all, that you were laughing with: the golden boy. the perfect man. the man iwaizumi kept you secret from for two years. you of course, knew of the infamous oikawa in your highschool years, he was your sweetheart's bestfriend. yet you never interact with him as a couple until your third year. iwaizumi could not let the charms of a pretty boy enchant the likes of you; you are beautiful, you are perfect, most importantly, you are his.
you had broken every silent rule hajime had set out for you regarding oikawa. not knowing how to apolgise, you let your lips part slightly and soften the lust in your gaze, opting for an apologetic wide eyed stare. unrelenting, iwa merely places a terrifyingly tender kiss on your forehead, and you know that you have royally fucked up
YOU ARE READING
blankets after a storm
Fanfictionhajime is a posssive man. you knew this. you like to push buttons. he knew that. but the line had to be drawn somewhere.
