HONEY CULTURE, haikyuu

( war children. ) t. satori

tendo satori

𝖄OUR MIND is catastrophe tangled in stormy dark webs, a bitter laugh escaping your lips as you curled up on the wooden chair, folding your bandaged legs beneath you. running a trembling finger over the soft texture that embraces the war hammering onto your broken bones, your fingers are curled,

"don't even think of ripping those of," vermillion red catches your eyes, the way he prowls into the room in silent confidence; shoulders tucked behind and head lifted high, he assesses you with his pretty crimson gaze, eyes that quickly melts you in place.

    you give tendou a wry smile. "i don't need you ordering me around. all you ever do is patch me up so i wouldn't crumble and send me off to fight again."

    "but didn't you love fighting?" don't you love the war? is what tendou was implying but he didn't need to say it. the burning fire in those red eyes mirrored your own. instead of replying, you spat him a nasty glare not that it fazed tendou in the slightest.

    silently, he kneels in front of you with a bandage cloth resting on his hand and beckons you close. you comply, allowing tendou to reapply and wrap a new cloth around your skin that's painted red with fire and war; the whiteness of the bandage dampens into a beautiful red. for a fleeting moment, you saw how tendou's tantalising crimson eyes waver on the wound.

    "so beautiful." his voice is a mere murmur, deepened and hoarse like dry sand before sweetening it with honey, a perfect baritone to embrace. his finger runs a feather touch down your patched up wounds, dancing in ghostly ballad. you almost flinch in surprise when he leans in and caresses his lips on the bandage.

    "i love patching you up like this."

    "you're a really odd person, you know that?"

tendou hums, a knowing star in his eyes. "you're blushing."

you huffed, but it sounded like an airy chuckle. "i'm just exhilarated to go back to the chaos of a burning war is all."

end.