Infectious || IwaOi

35.

Since I won't be writing for a while; dozou, here ya go, a long chapter with no context which I hope will suffice. Enjoy luvs  (ﾉ*ФωФ)ﾉ

POOR BABE IN LE BIG SAD :'(

-

It was a bright Wednesday morning, not too early that the sun still had it's fresh rays but early enough to fill the pavement with morning commuters on their way to work.

It was a bright day and watery sunlight streamed down onto every pane. Every pane except Oikawa's, which was stubbornly covered with dark curtains and shut windows.

Oikawa Tooru was on his bed, curled up like a ball underneath his duvet and maintained stationary movements for nearly two days.

He didn't get up.

He didn't eat, even though his stomach pangs bothered him.

He didn't answer any messages, calls or queries from his door.

He was just... thinking.

Thinking about Iwaizumi, thinking about Tobio and finally...

Thinking about the two strangers from the cafe; the man with a shaggy face and the other pink-haired one, recalling their conversation and the look in their eyes, the way they looked at him.

Pathetic.

And as if on an impulse, his mind drifted back to the night at the bar he'd shared with Iwaizumi; the way Iwaizumi held that high flush in his cheeks as he talked, the way his cheekbones seemed illuminated under the translucent liquor-lights, the way he looked at Oikawa, that shine in his eyes.

"You have potential, Oikawa. Seriously, you are one of the best." He'd said that night in the midst of their conversation.

Oikawa's eyes prickled under the sheets, a heat taking over his face.

Unconsciously, again his mind drifted back to the first time they had kissed, in Oikawa's house, that bittersweet moment of pleasure and desire they had witnessed in each other's embrace. "You're beautiful."

"I will never leave you."

An unbearable feeling of sadness overcame Oikawa and he let out his long-held torrent of tears under the sheets, his face twisting as if in physical agony as he clutched the fabric of his shirt tightly, bringing his knees up to his chest.

He cursed under the covers once he realised his tears weren't showing any sign of stopping soon and his entire frame shook with each raggedy breath.

Utterly pathetic.

There was a sudden sharp buzz in the slacken air, indicating an incoming call from his phone, and moments later, a small sound came from the front of his door, someone was calling his name.

Probably Keiji, again.

The dampness evaporated from his eyes, leaving hollow, haggard pits where two bleak amber eyes looked out, surrounded in a specific redness that only spoke of sleepless, miserable nights.

Who cares..... Who cares...

A sharp flare of pain in his stomach made him groan - it was clearly hunger. Yet, he didn't move, he stayed under the covers.

I'll probably just die of hunger.... Or of missed medication.

At that thought, he peeked up from his covers and saw the dust-collecting brown box under his desk, sitting there vacantly.