Yamaguchi glanced at him briefly, his expression gentle but cautious. “Uh… if you’re not comfortable, go ahead and walk ahead. I’ll stay here for a bit.”
He stepped slightly to the side, giving Tsukishima the space he seemed to need, his hands resting loosely at his sides as he waited silently.
Tsukishima's steps faltered at Yamaguchi's words, a pang of something deep and heavy striking his chest. He hated himself for it, hated how he longed to hear a different answer. Why did he want Yamaguchi to insist, to reach out, to fight this stubborn wall he'd built between them? It was ridiculous, this desperate, pathetic hope that he'd hoped for.
He kept his gaze averted, his jaw clenched and his voice curt. "Do what you want," he mumbled, the indifference in his tone a lie.
Yamaguchi’s chest tightened at Tsukishima’s curt words, a flicker of hurt crossing his features. Yet, almost instinctively, he let out a quiet, teasing chuckle.
“Well, if you said that’s what you want… then I guess what I want is to grab your hand and kiss you,” he said, letting the words hang between them for a heartbeat. He froze, realizing how bold it sounded, then shook his head slightly, smirking through the sting of his own teasing. “A... hahaha. Just kidding.”
The air between them felt charged, Tsukishima stiffening beside him, unsure whether to react or remain frozen in place. Tsukishima's step faltered, his heart leaping into his throat at Yamaguchi's bold words. It took him a moment to process what had been said, even more time to register the casual tone with which it had been spoken.
His thoughts spun in a chaotic whirlwind, the image of Yamaguchi kissing him, holding his hand, flooding his mind in a rush of heat. For a split second, the dam broke, and he found himself wanting it. Craving it.
But too quickly, his pride reasserted itself. His walls rebuilt. He clenched his jaw tight. "Shut up, Yamaguchi."
"Gomen, Tsukki."
