This New Event Hazel Omg!!! You Always Have Such An Interesting Ideas I Love You And Your Brain :(((

eternity with you

content: fluff, forbidden love

character/s: kaedehara kazuha

note: here’s to all the rest of the kazuha havers 💗 may you get him in the last few days!!

KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“I know.” His breath prickled against your skin, causing you to shudder at the trivial gesture. “I just needed to see you.”

As a wanted man in Inazuma, it had become difficult to constantly meet up with your lover in private for some quality time. This infuriating position forced you to keep your mouth shut about your secret relationship with the wandering samurai - because only the gods know what would happen to the both of you if word somehow managed to get out.

So here you were - face to face with your lover as you sat on his lap, his head resting in the crook of your neck with arms wrapped around your waist, while you ran your fingers through his silky platinum blonde hair. Kazuha had come unscheduled in the middle of the night - a few days earlier than he was supposed to arrive - and probably would have been caught by your father and dragged to the guards, had you not come up with a flawless lie in the last minute.

“How was your trip?” You ask softly, basking in the sweet aroma of fallen leaves that wafted from him.

“It was fine.” His muffled response came. “I wish you had come with me.”

“Me too.” You smile sadly, shifting your gaze to the full moon outside your window. You had desperately wanted to leave Inazuma and run away with your partner for quite some time now, but you couldn’t simply leave the family and home you grew up in - no matter how easy it sounded.

Kazuha knows and understands. And it bothers you that you couldn’t be braver for him or yourself.

For now, you would merely have to remain content with these sneaky little rendezvous that you both forever treasured in your hearts.

“How about you, love? Are you well?” He whispers against your neck, and your heart flutters.

“I’m doing alright. However my parents can’t seem to stop setting me up with a lot of men.”

He chuckles faintly. “How could I blame them? Look at yourself. You’re simply beautiful.”

A flush of red arises on your cheeks, and you scoff at his absurd words. “I can’t go and marry someone else, you know. You’re the only one I love.”

“Perhaps you should start dressing up in sacks then.” He murmurs, raising his head to look into your eyes. “Then maybe your parents wouldn’t need to sell off their unsightly daughter.”

You smile, cupping his cheek with your hand. “But then you wouldn’t marry me either.”

He shakes his head as his fingers gently trace unknown patterns into your skin. “You could never be unattractive to me, Y/N. I would marry you in a heartbeat if I could.”

His arm tugs on your body to pull you closer, and presses a soft kiss against your lips. You unconsciously tilt your head, savoring the taste of him after a tedious and long wait.

Your heart violently thumps in your chest upon feeling his tongue swipe on your bottom lip - probably asking for consent before going deeper. With tomato cheeks, you let his greedy desires get the best of him, as he swiftly parts your lips and devours you like you’re air and he’s been holding his breath for a long time.

Eventually (and regrettably for Kazuha) you break the kiss, and lean your head against his, as you faintly panted for air in the darkened room. You can feel his chest rise and fall - now truly taking in real air.

“I should probably stop before I lose what little restraint I have left on you.” He mumbles. His words stun you, and you watch in horror as his innocent smile contorts into a devilish smirk at your flustered face.

“When…when did you learn to act so bold?”

“You learn a lot when you’re surrounded by people on the Crux.”

Beidou - you think to yourself, embarrassed at the thought of her and her crew educating Kazuha on nasty subjects.

“Does it make your heart flutter?”

You choke on your saliva at his straightforward words. “I-uh...sure I guess.”

He smiles, pulling your hand up to place light kisses on your knuckles. “I’ve missed you. Very much.”

The corners of your mouth shift into a shy smile - and all of a sudden it feels like the first time you’ve kissed him and whispered that you loved him. “I missed you too. Let’s run away together soon.”

He nods, feeling his heart soar in his chest at your words. “Where would you like to go first?”

“Does it really matter?” You lean forward on his shoulder. “We could roam around the whole world, or settle down in a tiny house - I would be more than happy to spend eternity with you.”

Eternity.

Inazuma’s archon saw it as confinement of its citizens, dictatorship and everlasting power for its god, and the destruction of its people’s deepest ambitions.

And yet, the way you say it makes Kazuha want to believe again - that such a horrid and feared word could sound so beautiful as it tumbled down your lips and fluttered about in his heart.

“Eternity…I like it.”

Perhaps this eternity you both sought for would eventually come in the next few years - or simply arrive the following cloudy morning through a knock of the door in the form of Beidou.

Wherever it was, it would someday turn up along your way…and when it did, you wouldn’t bother to hesitate in its face once more.

But as for tonight, you decide to settle in his embrace under the comfort of your warm duvet, as he holds you close and lulls you to a tranquil sleep, with hazy muffled whispers that dream of forever under the sakura leaves.

Eternity with you…doesn’t sound so bad.

---

Akaashi Keiji x Reader

Rated: SFW — Angst

Author note: lmao, good luck with interpreting this. If you have any troubles with the latim terms pls hmu.

Warnings: impaired mental state, hallucinations and illness.

Foramen magnum 

With your closed eyes, you could see him.

The ethereal features were engraved in the back of your mind: the ice-cold blue eyes, the placid face and the raven locks crowning his head. The portrayal of perfection.

"What are you thinking of?" The male laying by your side asked.

"Nothing important, actually." You replied, trying to diverge his attention. Your skin prickled under his touch, fingers caressing the flushed complexion of your cheeks. It didn't sparkle, though.

"It doesn't seem unimportant if you're shedding a tear or two, sweetheart." The man pointed out, slightly worried. A pang was felt in the back of your head.

It felt like a heresy to say he wasn't important. How could you dare to say it, when his name alone was enough to give reason to your entire existence?

"I'm just being weird, don't worry about me, love." You opened your eyes to see his unabashed features, words rolling out of your tongue like honey.

His mouth curved in a light beam, eyes softening at sight of you. The moment felt static, as if time stopped only for you two.

Laying in a bed of flowers and greens, the homey scent hanging in the air, everything felt right.

And the realization settled within thoughts in a dreadful sensation.

Your mind went frantic, heart missing a beat when the breath hitched in your throat.

Hands took a hold of your shoulders, shaking your body while. Pleas went deaf inside of your ears and all your mind could register was the ruffling of ash-blond locks.

Konoha Akinori wasn't Akaashi Keiji.

Ictus cordis

The touch soothed your nerves and you could feel your heart calming inside your ribcage.

You stared lovingly at him, taking into the peaceful face; closed eyelids hid the eyes you loved the most and his pale complexion melted into the bed of feathers.

The world was white canvas and he was the only one to bring colors into it.

Fingertips ran in the expanse of your flesh, painting your body with invisible fire. The tender gesture was enough to make you feel like the most loved person in existence.

With the simple act, your heart swelled and its pace quickened within your chest.

"Why don't you sleep, angel?" Hand caressed your torso, ghosting over your ribs.

"If I close my eyes, I won't be able to see you, Keiji." You meekly responded, afraid of tainting the scenery.

"But you can't really see me, angel. Not with these orbs of yours, it is." The low tone blared inside your mind as his figure vanished in the front of your eyes.

The product of your imagination was cruel, yet, what hurted the most was the heart pounding against the left corner of your ribcage.

Akaashi Keiji wasn't real.

Delirium tremens

Stillness became a welcoming feeling.

After being in silence for so long, loneliness turned out to be an excellent company — so excellent you could ignore the other presence inside the room.

"Why won't you look at me?" The unknown guest asked.

You refused to look at anything other than the white wall in front of you. You were too tired to interact with people. Why would you, when the pitying glances did nothing to help your state?

"Angel?"

The voice broke the static lullaby, wrecking the peace you unwillingly built within the last months.

It couldn't be, could it?

Looking at the far corner of the room, there he was. Black hair and blue eyes, aiming at you with the softness you saw only once, in the eyes of another man whose name you couldn't remember.

Your lower lip quivered as emotion overtook you.

Keiji smiled.

Overneath the hospital bed, your body shook.

"Haven't you missed me?" The man asked, tilting his head.

You closed your eyes and left out a ragged breath. He disappeared once again.

The idea of Akaashi Keiji wasn't good for you.

— and yet, you couldn't ignore the void as your body crashed in abstinence.

How could you miss someone that never existed?

❥ General taglist: @imomomi @neonghxst @differentballooncollection @raenebalgaire @caxsthetic @sanso @94cherub @bbymilkbread @oikawoahh @aprettyfruit

akaashi was never one to tape his fingers to play volleyball, the thought never really crossed his mind. once upon a time, he did try it out but the sensation of cotton wrapped around his fingers felt unusual. perhaps it aided his performance but it didn’t help his itch to fidget with his digits. the tape fell out ten minutes into his game.

never is a strong word, so definitively negative. akaashi has never been in a plane. akaashi has never eaten vietnamese food. akaashi has never been in love. but ‘never’ doesn’t last long and it’s longevity is so pronounced in a childish game of ‘never have i ever’. akaashi knows this because one year, bokuto pronounced that he had never used a bike but the next year, after arduous hours of cycling lessons, he put a finger down.

the word never can be temporary, a simple exception turning an “i haven’t” to an “i have”.

akaashi has to make an exception to his no-finger-taping rule today. in a practice match at yet another training camp, the ball’s trajectory hit his greatest asset a little strangely and left him with aching fingers. ouch.

“i’m going to tape your fingers so that they hurt a little less, is that okay?”

the coach sent him to you, a volunteering first aid member at the camp to take care of his injury. akaashi is never easily enamoured by people but for whatever strange reason, his heart races at the sight of you. sparkling eyes, shiny hair, a beautiful smile. how could he not feel so magnetically connected?

so even though he’s said he’s never taped his fingers since he tried it, he lets you twirl the white cotton around each one just to see your face up close.

with hands awkwardly outstretched, he lets his eyes trail your digits winding the tape around his own. you look so alluring, he thinks, with your brows furrowed to focus. he forgets that he’s staring and only snaps out of his stupor when you catch him in the act, giving him a gentle upturn of your lips. perhaps in other circumstances he’d feel ashamed but akaashi’s rational emotions are overrun by the utter joy he feels seeing your smile.

he’s never been happier about embarrassing himself.

you continue your care taking, white fabric travelling around and around and around his fingers. the tape has always felt a little abrasive to him, a little out of place on his skin. however, your smooth movements of tape on his pointers in conjunction with the angelic glow that’s ever present on your face pushes the thought from his head. the white cotton doesn’t matter anymore, only you do.

a few tucks and you’ve finished your masterpiece. akaashi dislikes that he wants to hurt himself again just to soak in your delightful features once more.

“that should be good for now, just be careful when you’re on the court!” you beam at him cheerfully. akaashi thinks that he’d like to see that grin more often.

“thank you.” is his lame reply.

“of course!” you chirp back at him. there’s a quiet pause in between your words, almost as though the silence is speaking for the two of you. you open your mouth to continue in amongst the silence. “by the way, you play really well! i don’t know much about volleyball but from what i can see, you’re a really wonderful player.”

akaashi could physically feel his soul leaving his body.

not only were you so outwardly beautiful, your mind was just as charming! perhaps if your mind was reflected as a tangible being, it would look just like you do right now.

“thank you again. what’s your name?” he questions in an almost jaunty fashion. he curses his blank slate of a mind for his unusual behaviour. you give him your name and he thinks that you make it sound so good spilling from your lips.

“and you’re... akaashi, right?” he nods to your inquisition. his name sounds even better rolling off your tongue.

“alright akaashi, i’ll see you around.” you wave him off with a pearly white grin and he nods once more. with a small smile, he jogs back to the rest of the team to slide back into the match. it was almost like he’d never left.

never is a strong word. sometimes, one does not wish to break their vow of never accomplishing something. akaashi does it more than he likes to admit. sure, the doors of possibilities in his mind are open but there are a few that have remained shut. like taping his fingers. or falling in love. or letting himself form a crush on a stranger. let it be known that he only has a say in one of those doors staying sealed.

sometimes those doors are to remain closed off. sometimes they aren’t. you let akaashi know through your sweet smile that it’s okay to open more of them and let himself be more vulnerable.

some day he’ll tell you that. but lingering stares will suffice for now.

WEEKEND PRACTICE

summary: Akaashi doesn’t mind his early morning weekend volleyball practices. But having you in his bed might change that. 

pairing: akaashi keiji x f!reader 

genre: established relationship au, college au | fluff 

warnings: aged up characters, new relationship honeymoon stage fluff </3 

word count: 1.6k 

a/n: wanted to start this thing where I write short domestic / established relationship fics based on prompts (after I posted the 3k Todoroki fic), so have another!! based on the prompt “if you had asked me to say, I would’ve” but adjusted slightly. 

The occurrence of early morning volleyball practices are a sign that the playoffs and tournament season are rapidly approaching. With the upcoming challenges that await the team, it’s only natural for the coach to schedule a surplus of practice games or practice sessions to ensure that all the players can refine their skills. After all, there are always balls to spike or pinpointed jump serves to perfect—despite the groans and moans from players. 

Akaashi, however, is indifferent to these volleyball practices because he is nothing if not consistent. He makes sure to always show up, rain or shine, because he knows that Bokuto will drag him out regardless of his emotional state. Given that, Akaashi fulfills his appearance quota more out of obligation than anything else—but volleyball has been a part of his life for so many years, that the choices are basically second nature to him. 

At least, that’s how it’s been up until very recently. 

Akaashi realizes that although he may be indifferent to volleyball practice, he is far from indifferent about you. 

Keep reading

ˢ/ᵒ ᵃˢᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵏⁱˢˢᵉˢ

pairings: inumaki x gn!reader, junpei x gn!reader, itadori x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader

genre: sfw/fluff

tw: none. 

a/n: pls grab your tissues for junpei, that shit made me sob he’s so precious please. 

Keep reading

empty beds

summary: nishinoya no longer wants to sleep on empty beds

word count: 1.3k

pairing: nishinoya x gn!reader

a/n: no thoughts, head empty. only cuddling nishinoya when he comes home. also sorry for reposting! my tags didn’t show up so hopefully they do now!

YOU WOULD ARGUE THAT SLEEPING IS one of the best things Whoever was Above had gifted you and your silly little world. Being able to disappear for a while and live in the freedom of your dreams was a whole other level of comfort — and it was one that you didn’t take lightly. So whenever you had the chance, you’d take the liberty in rewarding yourself with a good nap.

Today was no different.

Since you hadn’t had the free time to take a nap today, you’d resorted to sleeping a little earlier than usual, falling prisoner to the idea of a good dream.

This, however, had come to a surprise to your cheery roommate who was waltzing towards your shared apartment in search of you after having disappeared for months.

Nishinoya had lived with you for a good while now, and in that time, you hadn’t seen him all that often. It proved to be no problem though because you had known the boy since high school which meant awkwardness was void whenever the two of you were home together — contrary to it, being in the same place actually meant cuddling and silly adventures with you and the boy. He’d made it a habit to try and replicate the cuisines he had tried when he was out exploring the world.

Placing everything down by the front door (as Noya had grown quite tired from the constant hopping to planes, though he did still have the same glow he normally had whenever he’d realize he was coming home to you), Nishinoya made sure to place the bag of gifts he had gotten you hidden inside one of his bags. And that proved a little extra difficult, with all the other things he had gotten his friends, stuffed inside one bag.

Grabbing something for you while out in a different country had become a habit to the boy, and it always surprised you how he never missed one — despite you saying it was totally alright if he didn’t give you an overwhelming amount of gifts.

You basically had it all, from keychains to stuffed animals to shirts with the country’s name. Sometimes, you’d get shells or sand when he traveled by the beach. It was just always something different with him.

With that said, it was a rare occasion to find him home. And you were so drunk on the idea of sleeping that you had barely heard the sound of keys opening the door to your apartment. You had missed the call of your name in favor of snuggling your head deeper into the soft pillows on your bed.

And just as your dreams are about to start presenting itself in your fried brain, your sleepy ears come to pick up quiet shuffling from inside your room — and this time, your body refuses to ignore the thought that someone could’ve possibly broken into your home.

Almost as if your fight or flight response takes over your senses, one of your tired hands goes flying towards the general direction of the spot beside you on your bed, and you almost immediately fall off when you feel yourself touching something human.

Your heart is beating so fast and there’s a loud thump you can feel in your ears that you don’t even hear your own pleas for whoever it was to spare you.

With your system pumped up, you quickly bring yourself to turn around to find the culprit only for your eyes to increase tenfold when you spot Nishinoya with his head buried in your pillows, reaching out for you to come back.

“Yuu, what the fuck! When did you come back? Why’d you have to scare the shit out of me like that!”

It was obvious to you that he had come to the comfort of your room in search of cuddles especially after being gone for so long.

And although cuddling wasn’t anything new to the both of you, given Nishinoya’s clingy nature, your brain still hasn’t fully processed the fact that your roommate was actually on your bed and had attempted to fall asleep beside you.

“Come back please. Don’t you miss your super cool roommate?” His voice was quiet, in contrast to his usual boisterous tone, but there was still a hint of playfulness in it as he pats your spot on the bed with his eyes still shut.

“So you propose we sleep beside each other?” He’s nodding his head, pulling your blankets further towards his body as he yawned, his hair was down — blocking his forehead, and he had a cute toothless smile plastered on his face.

“I can’t handle sleeping on another empty bed.”

You only now realize that from the months Nishinoya was gone, he had probably been sleeping from hotel to hotel without the comfort of anyone else with him — and although he had a knack for adventure, he was still human after all, and he still missed the cuddles his roommate used to offer when he was back home.

Which only explained why it was almost routine for Nishinoya to stroll past his own bedroom and into yours the moment he had arrived home.

“Empty beds are lonely.” You can see the ghost of a pout on his lips, eyes slightly open so he can look at you and motion for you to come back on your bed. “Please?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say no, not when he was looking at you with pleading eyes and that stupid pout on his lips, and especially not when he had just come home and his first and only request was to be able to simply sleep beside you.

You sympathized with how long he’d gone without physical touch. With coming home from every adventure to a lonely, cold and quiet bed (and you only now realized why he’d always call you at the most unexpected times just so he could fall asleep to the sound of your voice and the sight of your pretty face).

Nishinoya smiles triumphantly when you pull the covers so you could slip in and go back to the well-deserved sleep you had promised yourself. But it was always easier said than done, and you find that sleep is difficult to find when Nishinoya was pestering you by running his hand against your arm, scooting closer towards you to rest his head on your shoulders.

“Cuddles please?”

You roll your eyes when you spot Nishinoya with his arms wide open, encouraging you to inch closer before completely engulfing you in his arms, nose buried against your hair and sighing fondly at the familiar scent of your shampoo he very much loved.

He’d never admit how he had bought a bottle of the same shampoo when he was out traveling just so he could have something that resembled you, and he had found himself using it and divulging in its familiar scent whenever he had a particularly stressful day during his own adventures.

“Thank you.” He runs a hand down your back, pressing a small kiss on your forehead before shutting his eyes closed, allowing for the both of you to finally get what the two of you had needed that night — sleep (and maybe also each other, but the two of you merely gloss over that fact).

“Goodnight Y/N. Really missed this.” His grip around you tightens for a bit in a little squeeze, the thought that you were finally in his arms still surreal to him. He had dreamt of this moment the moment he had gotten on that plane ride back home.

And so the pair of you smile contently to yourselves, longing surrounding you both that it almost encompasses the entirety of your lives, whispering in your heads where no one else can hear and praying for more days like this.

bonus:

“I hope you don’t mind that I’m definitely not wearing pants right now.”

Nishinoya whispers into your ear which earns him a well-deserved one on one with his butt and the floor.

general taglist: @nikki–han @vhskenma @natszoo @prettysetterbaby @peteunderoos @not-venice @melcooki @leinnah @i-stole-your-juice-box @tanakaslastbraincell @kurooscake @hikari-writes @shehellamad @kyutie-pie-blog @apollosblues @kawaiinishii @kageyamasgirl @bokutosworld @normalisthenewnorm @alysken @vickishima @moonlightaangel @dewdropsinwinter @millie-mint

---

daybreak.

soaked in sunshine.  f!reader ; wc: 705 ; fluff. 

happy birthday, miya atsumu. you are one of two libras i will never condemn. 

there’s a smile on your face. atsumu thinks that maybe everything will be okay. 

you weave a hand through his hair, eyes searching his own. “the sun is a good look on you,” you muse teasingly. 

he rolls his eyes. “i always look good.” 

he’s not sure when he became uncertain about things ever not being okay. he’s not sure how he could with you next to him.

Keep reading

---

Consent and Intimacy

request: “Can you write a drabble with Akaashi Keiji + Insatiable + Basorexia + Attachment? TY! -anon

pairing: akaashi x gn!reader

Insatiable (adj.) - (of an appetite or desire) impossible to satisfy

Basorexia (n.) - the overwhelming desire to kiss

Attachment (n.) - affection, fondness, or sympathy for someone or something

He clasps the side of your face with his palms, gently placing his forehead against yours, “my love?”

You nudge your nose in response, tightening your grip on his torso as a way of saying yes, I’m listening.

In a quiet whisper he asks, “can I kiss you?”

It’s extraordinary just how much your lover can restrain his basorexia, his overwhelming desire to kiss you— all for the sake of consent.

No matter how many times you’ve kissed, he always asks.

“Of course,” you mumble, letting your lips brush against each other.

The corners of his lips quip into a soft smile, before moving his thumb between your lips to create a small opening. He leans in slowly, he always does, as his way to savour the moment.

You can feel the gentle breeze of air exhaling through his nose, the breath he’s held for quite long finally being released. It’s the simple act of intimacy that deepens the setters attachment for you.

Though perhaps your kisses were insatiable, because he could never get enough of it.

---

just a bite.

modern!au vampire!scaramouche x reader

summary: being roommates with a vampire who craves you carnally just as much as he does for sustenance? awk.

word count: 4.6k 

tw/cw: 18+ only, afab reader, drinking, unintentional roommates with a vampire (he kind of just invites himself in. and never leaves), mutual masturbation, sex in exchange for blood, frottage, rutting, bodily fluids, bloodplay, blood drinking, scaramouche isn’t really so much bitter, angry scaramouche or calmer wanderer but more a blend of both? (he’s really just a stray cat who latches onto you), lots of banter, brief reference to suicidal behavior (scaramouche)

–author’s note: happy late bday scaramouche <3

“You’re leaving?” 

While two months ago, you wouldn’t think twice about stepping out to grab drinks with a friend, now things are different. Two months ago, after all, you did not have a half-starved vampire passed out on your doorstep, after trying to deny himself of his one source of sustenance.

Two months ago, after all, you didn’t invite said vampire into your apartment unknowingly, only to find yourself pinned to your doormat, his crazed, crimson-tinged gaze focused intently on your neck. 

Two months ago, after all, you did not have said vampire now lingering in your house as an unofficial guest after said unsuccessful attempt to drain you dry. 

(“You were the only one stupid enough to let me in,” he said drily, kicking his feet up onto your coffee table the day after, when you had awoken after his frenzy. Surprised you’re still alive, he’d said nonchalantly. As if he was not a stranger in your house. As if he hadn’t tried to suck the life out of you like some kind of vertically-challenged tick. He ignored your attempts to swat his feet off, instead crossing his arms and tossing his head to the side. 

Keep reading

sincerely,

yours truly (part one). / sincerely (part two).

premise: your diligent efforts to uncover the identity of your secret admirer had ultimately amounted to nothing. in fact, your investigations only raised more questions — your companions' strange behaviors and shifty-eyed gazes hadn't completely escaped from your awareness, not to mention you've become... privy to some of their affections...

and what is the last thing you need while trying to search for one person who liked you? more people to like you, of course!

but that is exactly what you receive. (goddamn it all.)

includes: zhongli, kaeya, scaramouche, itto & the real secret admirer !

note: oh god i have done it. it's even longer than the other one but since this is the 10k celebration fic, it's only rightfully so! i hope you enjoy this... likes and reblogs are appreciated <33 please read the first part if you haven't already!

zhongli:

all things considered, zhongli is an unrelated figure to your personal issues, not particularly concerned with such trifling matters. you lived worlds apart, and he's generally preoccupied by his own studies anyway, too absorbed in his thesis to mind who has a crush on who and whatnot.

yet it seems as if fate is intent on pulling you two together whether you like it or not.

you belong in different majors, your lecture halls on opposite sides of campus, and he's an upperclassman. not to mention the upperclassman everyone looks up to, the senior equivalent of albedo. though he holds an air of benevolence and warmth, he's unapproachable in the way nobody would dare impose themselves in fear of bothering him with their presence.

professors only speak of his name in accordance with endless words of praise, and legend has it that any paper he proofreads is guaranteed to receive a high grade... not that anyone could confirm it, since nobody has been gifted that luxury.

except for you, of course, living the y/n life — you'd been slaving away on your assignments per usual at diluc's cafe when, in a moment of misfortune, zhongli had crashed into a waiter and spilled his coffee on your papers, soaking pale sheets in brown splatters and smudging the inked sentences you'd painstakingly written for the past hour.

if only your laptop hadn't run out of battery, you wouldn't have resorted to drafting with pen and paper. or you could have done your work in a later date instead of being productive for nothing. fuck.

witnessing your expression crumpled to disbelief and misery, zhongli apologized through offering his assistance in doing your assignment with you. and oh boy, he did it well. it was better than what you could've ever done, the insight he provided beyond profound. he was humble even as you showered him with compliments, still looking quite apologetic for the fiasco he caused.

and. right. it could've ended there. after that occasion, you would wave at him if you passed by each other at the hallways, but that's where the extent of your relationship ended, a pair of underclassman and upperclassman who'd known each other once.

but of course it's never that easy.

he pops up when you least expect it, running into you frequently even though the rumors articulated “you'd hardly get a glimpse of him since he's busy all the time” clearly. and he's acquainted with people you know well, just that you never paid attention to it; keqing seems to respect him a lot, so does xiao, ganyu perks up whenever he's brought up in conversations, and childe sticks to him when given the opportunity. perhaps it was only a matter of time that you begin a friendship with him as well...

but what's up with these horribly timed drama tropes you keep experiencing with him?!

bumping into him and dropping your books to the floor so he offers to walk you to the library, locked into a room when a professor asks you to collect materials for class with him and the door has a faulty knob, getting photographed by a student while you study in the same table and everyone assumes you're dating,,

you've been seeing far too much of him.

everyone's patience has been wearing thin. xiao tries his best to keep his annoyance at bay but fails. childe has resorted to bribing zhongli for free lunch to lead him away from you. albedo straight up drags you to the opposite direction whenever he spots zhongli within vicinity.

but it's like there's a force of nature compelling you to stick right back to him.

hosting events for college fests had never been your kind of thing, but attention follows you if you're acquainted with famous people, and keqing was unwilling to be an emcee if she didn't have a friend alongside her to act as a second host. of course, that meant everyone was deadset on dragging you with her.

you're not very keen on standing on a stage to face the whole school like a kid participating in a talent show, but you've never been good at saying “no” to your friends.

hence why you find yourself clutching on a microphone now, blinded by bright stage lights. you would much prefer if you were part of the audience. or if you were in ayaka's place instead, holding up cue cards behind the curtains.

there's some kind of beauty pageant going on, a popularity contest for the prettiest people in uni. votes are collected via online polls, and you're tasked to reveal the top 10. you don't doubt for a second your friends will all join you on stage eventually, and you've already asked ganyu to drag xiao up the platform if he tries to escape. sweeping off a piece of confetti by your shoulder, you flip open the folden paper in your hand and announce the winning names.

zhongli steps up as one of the candidates for first place and you faintly hear gasps of awe and high pitched squeals.

you nod at him in acknowledgement, and he returns the gesture in kind. you head on over to hand him a mic of his own, keqing busying herself by doing the same job for other contestants, and...

in your carelessness, distracted by fumbling with the paper in your hand to hide it back inside your pocket, you trip over an electrical cord.

you've been waiting the entire night for the time where you'll eventually embarrass yourself in front of a crowd. perhaps a voice crack in what's supposed to be a tense situation, a stutter in your words, falling off a stage even, but here it is, even more horrifying than what you could've imagined.

squeezing your eyes shut instinctively, you brace yourself for the hard surface to tumble onto. instead, what meets you is something squishy, someone's hands gripping around your shoulders, and-

FUCK. you banged your knees on the ground.

the first thing to pop in your mind is a myriad of swears that could stun a sailor.

the second is the oddly plush surface your lips had landed on.

the third is the sight of widened golden eyes. they look very familiar. but you'd rather not think about who they belong to.

the ugly screech of the microphone dropping to the floor is drowned out by gasps, yelling, and the scandalized choke of keqing behind you. xiao — who did end up being a contender for the stupid popularity contest and is standing only a few meters away, makes an alarming noise that could trigger a person's fight or flight reaction.

you hastily attempt to rise to your feet, but the floor is slippery what the actual fuck, and zhongli, oh for fuck's sake, innocent and oblivious zhongli grabs your hips to keep you steady.

.....of course the accidental kiss and caught in a compromising position tropes were going to happen eventually.

kaeya:

“it's from me.”

your gaze travels from the fresh, new bouquet of flowers emitting a sweet fragrance lying in your arms, and the face of the man currently standing before you, lips curled in what seems to be a supposedly reassuring smile.

“you mean... this and the carnations last time?”

his lips are still firmly quirking upwards, admirably patient in spite of reiterating the same phrase over and over again whenever probed with your repetitive questions.

still, he doesn't quite give off the impression of someone deeply infatuated.

and okay, not to be narcissistic, but you expected a secret admirer to... well, admire you more, yet this person looks as nonchalant as ever.

and he doesn't look like the type to profess love through subtle means. at all.

you'll be blunt. you've heard of kaeya. who hasn't? whether it be of mischief, or something more scandalous in nature, he's more or less always involved with trouble, gossip about him traveling fast. it may be an insane prank in the boys' dormitory or someone he bedded (who's supposedly out of everyone's league, yet fell for his charms so easily), you hear of his name quite often.

it's just that you didn't expect you'd associate yourself with him...

and if you have at least two brain cells to rub together, you can easily piece together the conclusion: this guy is definitely talking out of his ass.

nobody has ever heard of kaeya pining over someone so badly that he personally sent bouquets and other small gifts to appease them, admiring them from the shadows. it's so clearly not his style. if he likes someone, he'd flirt with them a bit and cleverly worm his way into their heart, and absolutely not give away presents expecting nothing in return.

but if he's not your secret admirer, then for what reason is he pretending like he is?

you want to seek the truth, and playing along for the meantime sounds like the best option. and this may draw out the real secret admirer, the sly part of you voices internally.

thinking it'll be rude to turn him down publicly (since of course he initiated this exchange in the middle of a crowd, and that only gives you more reason to doubt him), you decide to see how things go first.

if anything, this whole “wooing” business with kaeya seems like it's done out of spite. does he have a bone to pick with you? or he made one of those stupid “it'll only take a week for you to fall for me” bets with his friends? hopefully not, because that's terribly out of trend.

your indifferent responses do nothing to deter him from sticking to you like glue though, doing this and that to earn your favor. he's... not doing anything wrong, actually. if you didn't know any better, you'd think he's like any other eager guy who wants to receive your love.

he does a great job of remembering what things you like and dislike, making a habit of inviting you out for a meal in your favorite restaurants every now and then or taking note of what movies you're looking forward to so you could watch it in the cinema together.

... it feels more like hanging out with normal friends now.

kaeya eases into the idea of that notion, too, insisting on meeting you outside of his shady “i'm your secret admirer” business. it doesn't take too long until you begin to reach out to him as well, inviting him to go shopping with you to look at jewelry together (and dear lord, does kaeya know how to accessorize) or giving him a ticket to the amusement park when kokomi bails on you. (“so i' m just a rebound? a back-up plan?” kaeya arches a questioning brow, acting deeply hurt to provoke a reaction. you smack his shoulder and he laughs in mirth.)

(he definitely tries for the “let's go to the haunted house so you can cling to me when you're scared” cliche but fails. why does he feel disappointed though...)

if given more time, maybe the time would come where you'll both just shrug off the secret admirer thing and continue on normally as friends. it'll be the last thing on your minds, a joke that never had a punchline. just some prank kaeya didn't see through the end.

but then it resurfaces when kaeya had already given you your daily dose of coffee — yes, he somehow knows the secret recipe you like, something you plan to ask him about later — but another cup is waiting at your desk, its once warm temperature turning lukewarm.

you inspect it, judging for yourself, and you confirm it's the same recipe you like.

so this one is from the real secret admirer then, the one who's still hiding in the shadows. that, or this recipe is just popular.

the people residing in the same room as you observe the scene with interest, because apparently your romance drama became a spectator sport, stares pinned in kaeya's direction.

you knew he was a fraud from the very start, but others do not, and he's not sure what to say.

someone else makes the excuse for him. “do you have another person who likes you, [name]?” amber asks innocently, essentially saving kaeya's ass without her realizing it. you let your gaze shift from her to kaeya.

“...maybe.” you place the two cups of coffee side-by-side, feigning nonchalance.

if the real secret admirer found out that someone's pretending to be him, this must be his way of saying kaeya's a fraud in front of everyone. after all, if he was actually the secret admirer, there'd be no need for kaeya to give you another cup when he'd already placed one on top of your desk.

and a couple of people already know who the real one is, anyway. xiao just doesn't want to tell you.

kaeya sends what seems to be a longing gaze your way but ends up turning away to head to his own classroom. he'd only offered to walk you towards yours, and you didn't share classes. it gives you more time to ponder how to confront him.

you didn't have to. he explained things himself.

it comes in the time you least expect, a peaceful lunch like any other. he suddenly arrived at your table, tray in hand, and sat opposite of you. “it's not me,” is the first thing he says, no context at all. he admits the obvious truth and you shovel more food in your mouth in your hopes of hiding how curious you are for what else he has to say.

“but i know who's been giving you flowers... and the coffee. also the chocolate the other day. i helped him pick out the presents, actually.” and that's where you choke because that's not what you were expecting at all.

“he was considering sending a love letter, but i told him you'd recognize his handwriting because you know him very well. and he refused to give a printed letter because he thought it was 'lacking' and you deserved better than that.” he scoffed at the thought. “and that's cute of him. endearing, if you will. but he seriously pissed me off last month and i wanted to mess with him a bit.”

“so you... tried to date the person he likes?” your expression sours. that's a dick move. he immediately shakes his head, as if to say perish the thought.

“not that. i knew for a fact you wouldn't like me anyway. i was just teasing him,” kaeya huffs. “and he got angry at me. well, it's a justified reaction. but i didn't plan on keeping up the charade for long. i only wanted to fool around for a few days.”

“and then?”

“...i missed the timing to pass it off as a joke. then we started to hang out like friends. but i assured him that you didn't actually think i was the real secret admirer, so he forgave me as long as i... do some work for him.”

oh. he's right about that though. and that also explains why kaeya looked so tired recently, helping out a friend with his project as a sincere apology.

“does he plan on revealing his identity anytime soon?” you can't help but ask, your eager eyes betraying the nonchalance in your voice. kaeya sighs at that, leaning back on his chair and crossing his arms.

“i've been trying to convince him to. it's exhausting to look at him flailing about like an idiot. he talks about you all the time.” he frowns at the way your cheeks color. “you should try luring him out.”

you tilt your head in question. to show his point, he reaches out his arm, grabbing your hand. you let him do as he pleases, even as he brings the spoonful of your meal to his lips, and takes a bite out of it.

distantly, you hear a metal clatter against the floor and a voice cry out in surprise. you turn your head towards the noise, and you see—

the hell. it's just bennett tripping.

... but it's not like bennett dropped a metal utensil or anything. he is the one who cried out, though.

“wrong direction, sweetheart. you were supposed to look at the right. what a shame, you didn't see him picking up his fork like a fool.” kaeya laughs, releasing your hand from his grip.

he seems strangely reluctant in doing so, but you decide not to look further into it.

scaramouche:

at best, he is an unwilling spectator.

emphasis on “unwilling” because he truly does not wish to see you. like at all. you're pretty sure he hates your guts, but he'd amassed a lifetime's worth of misfortune and keeps seeing you... and the guys around you.

it's safe to say if your love life was turned into a k-drama, he'd probably seen the entire series.

he'd walked in on you when childe confessed he likes you, purple eyes narrowed into a sharp glare before he turned on his heel and left the room. he'd seen the way xiao looks at you, starstruck and excruciatingly fond, because of course scaramouche sat beside him in class (long, long ago they settled a mutual agreement to not speak to each other unless necessary, even if they hadn't verbally discussed it). he'd seen you at diluc's cafe, too, when diluc poured coffee at the angry customer. scaramouche's clothes were stained, as he was the customer sitting beside your table.

he'd seen you with kazuha when kazuha came to pick you up in the rain. he'd seen albedo draw sketches of you in the corner of his notes. he'd seen thoma with you while out for grocery shopping. he'd seen gorou follow after you not unlike a loyal puppy.

he's, reasonably, tired of seeing your stupid face and your stupid harem and he hates you.

by the looks of it, none of your friends like him. especially mona. she had a few arguments with him already. they didn't mix well, and scaramouche liked poking fun of the astrology she loved, a firm disbeliever of such things. “how is my birthday supposed to dictate my personality? or my relationship status? is this fortune-telling? tell me, then. what's my lucky color for the day-” and he only shut up when mona landed a clean kick to his shin.

...yeah. he's kind of an asshole. the type to scowl 24/7, glare at you for no reason, and bump into you without apologizing. then when you do try to make small talk to alleviate the awkward atmosphere, he scoffs and pointedly ignores you.

but you can't blame him for finding you and... the guys following you irritating. you imagine it must be an eyesore for outsiders. there's already quite a bit of rumors about you going around seducing men (and women, you add, because apparently you can't be friends with pretty girls without having those kinds of intentions... and yoimiya and ayaka could be somewhat touchy) and rumors are almost always wildly changed with each pass of gossip from one person to another.

of course your friends don't believe it one bit and are ready 24/7 to defend your honor, but scaramouche is very obviously not your friend, and he may regard you with something less than pleasing.

it's only understandable you're caught by surprise when you chance upon him picking a fight with people badmouthing you, shoving a boy to the wall with brute force you wouldn't expect from someone his size. (you berate yourself for making fun of his height in this kind of situation.)

“shut the fuck up,” scaramouche drawls out, fisting the boy's shirt collar. “your voice is grating to the ears. surely, you have better things to do than yap nonsensical bullshit out in the open?”

“what's your fucking problem?!” the guy responds, panicking within his grip. “it's not like we were talking about you! don't think so highly of yourself!”

that prompts a scoff from him, and he tightens his hold on the boy's collar. he immediately shuts his mouth, thinking it better not to retaliate. scaramouche's glare promises something beyond simple violence if he continued to act prideful.

somwhat satisfied by the fear glistening in the guy's eyes, scaramouche finally releases him. “scram.”

the group runs off, and you quickly duck behind a wall to hide from his sight as he walks away. you're not sure what to feel, conflicted by his usual prick demeanor and shockingly kind(?) actions behind the scenes.

unfortunately, your confusion reflects directly on your face. after a handful of times catching you staring at him, he finally snaps, “what do you want.”

your expression twists into something complex, and scaramouche's frown deepens. “uh... no, it's nothing, really...”

“you've been looking at me all day. do you take me for a fool?”

your face sours. so much for planning to thank him. maybe he didn't stand up for you and actually just found the noisy gossiping annoying enough to choke a guy and pin him to the wall. if it's scaramouche, it isn't too far-fetched at all.

and what were you going to say to him, anyway? it's not like he explicitly stated he did it for you. it would be beyond mortifying if you thanked him for it and he clarified that little detail, thinking you were stuck-up enough to assume the world revolves around you.

... no, that's too much overthinking, isn't it...

“well?” scaramouche impatiently taps his foot, raising an eyebrow expectantly. you hold back a defeated sigh and decide to stay put.

“sorry if i made you uncomfortable. i was, um, looking at...” who does he sit with again? “xiao!” you mentally apologize to your friend, using his name as an excuse.

impossibly, he becomes more irate than before, his taps ceasing into a calm quiet. the silence pierces more than the tense conversation prior.

without another word, he walks away.

...well. okay. that was safely evaded.

life continues on per usual. you don't interact for the next week, and you want to leave it at that.

except your life is a joke. a romantic comedy you never wanted to be a part of.

...you're assigned to a group project. with him. with childe too, no less. the childe who confessed his love to you not too long ago and you still have problems wrapping your head around it, not sure how to talk with him like you did before.

amidst this drama, scaramouche is stuck smack dab between you. he's unquestionably furious.

he's present when childe looks at you in the same excruciating way xiao does. he's present when childe tries to make jokes to ease off the tension, and it doesn't work in the slightest. he's present in the lingering gazes, awkward pauses when you graze fingers as you hand materials to each other, and reluctant conversations that never last any longer than seven clipped sentences.

scaramouche feels wronged. had he committed a war crime in his past life to deserve this despair?

and you. you just want to get this over with. collect information, make a powerpoint, and present in front of the whole class. easier said than done.

the three of you together doesn't sit right with you, but left with only two isn't any better either. childe and scaramouche don't get along if you leave them long enough for an argument to brew. scaramouche hates you and doesn't fill the silence when childe leaves for a bathroom break. childe tries too hard to talk when scaramouche leaves for a coffee break.

when the first day of working together ends, you nearly cry tears of joy.

“i can walk you home,” childe offers out of goodwill. it's certainly not because he has other intentions in mind, he's just concerned since it is pretty late.

“we take the same bus,” scaramouche speaks, for the first time joining your conversation. “we can go together.”

childe smiles in relief, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair. then he stills. old habits die hard. damn.

for his sake, you don't comment on it. you walk out of the library, scaramouche in tow.

the stroll to the empty bus stop isn't a comfortable one, but at the very least, you're accompanied by an acquaintance and you don't have to feel anxious being alone. you take a seat as you wait but scaramouche chooses to remain standing, placing a fair amount of distance between you.

“...you haven't made up?”

his voice is small, almost swallowed by the howling winds. you're surprised he wants to talk about it, but you laugh. “we didn't fight or anything.”

“fighting would've been better,” he replies. “an apology could still repair your relationship. but there's nothing you can do if you don't see him that way, and he can't see you as a friend.”

you look down at your feet, heels resting firmly against the pavement. “yes... it's tricky. i don't know how to act around him. i don't want to hurt him, but... maybe not rejecting him is painful, too.”

“then turn him down properly.”

“it's not that easy...”

“would you rather him still have hopes for a chance with you and eventually get disappointed instead of dealing with it once and for all?”

he makes an excellent point. it's reasonable enough... but you don't know how to bring it up with childe. not now. not yet. you'll have to think about it properly, the way to reject him with the least amount of discomfort from his side.

“receiving relationship advice from you... if someone told me this would happen today, i'd think they've gone mad.” you chuckle. “do you deal with friends whining about hardships like these often?”

“apparently, they think of me — someone who has no interest in dating — as the perfect person to consult for relationship problems.”

“hm? you don't date? do you like anyone, at least?”

he gives you a look. it's perfectly blank, devoid of his usual arrogance or irritation. you blink at him, the pause in the conversation stretching too long to be comfortable.

“you could say that. but i don't... try things i know won't work out.”

“...like?”

he rolls his eyes. “think about it this way.” he removes his hands from his pockets, approaching your seated figure. he comes startlingly close, mere centimeters away, and his fingers curl around your wrist. your lips part and close, and you wonder if he's trying to kiss your knuckles-

“if i told you now that i like you, with this many people who like you too, there's no way i'd win, is there?”

it's an example, you tell yourself. you asked him a question and he answered it.

“...so the one you like is popular...”

but his gaze looking directly into your eyes is too earnest, too honest. sincere. light reflects against the violet pools, a turbulent storm clouding within.

you neither nod nor shake your head. the bus arrives and you scramble to get on it.

scaramouche pulls you by the wrist when you nearly trip over the small set of stairs, leading you to a pair of seats. if you have something to be grateful for, it's that he doesn't try to talk anymore, using the pair of headphones resting by his neck for the rest of the ride.

itto:

itto barges into your life in a whirlwind of chaos.

it comes in the form of a stray volleyball plummeting towards your back, and the sheer force behind it knocks the wind out of your lungs. your knees buckle and you kneel on the floor, heaving violent gasps of air. the searing pain makes you wonder if you broke your spine.

distantly, a screech bellows from the court. a figure almost flies past the gymnasium's doors to check on your condition. “are you okay?!” it's gorou, you realize, his eyes blown wide with panic.

you don't want to worry him and say you feel as if you've permanently shattered a bone, but your back hurts like a bitch and you tell him so, “fuck me with a hammer, did a bowling ball crash into me or something?”

he ignores your interesting choice of words and answers, “my friends and i were playing volleyball, i'm so sorry! we didn't see you there at all!”

you steer your sight to the gymnasium entrance and oh my god. the doors aren't especially massive, and one of them is even closed, so what are the chances you walk past the small space and precisely get slammed by a stray ball? it's gotta be lower than a five star drop in gacha.

“can you stand?” gorou holds up a hand for you to take but you really can't move away from your fetal position without an explosion of ache jolting through your body. he's three seconds away from offering to carry you when someone else beats him to it.

“did you get hurt?!” a blur of white hair passes through your eyes, and you blink up at an unfamiliar man. gorou's friend, you're guessing, most likely the one who injured you too — that powerful force from the volleyball could only come from someone like him. tall, athletic, muscular. he's ripped. shredded. probably tore your muscle fibers too.

you don't let the pain cloud your mind. he didn't mean to kill you, you remind yourself. you stretch your lips into a smile, but it may just look like a grimace.

however, with a gentleness you didn't expect from him, he carefully hoists you on his back. oh. he's strong. and really warm.

...sticky with sweat too, but you'll try not to mind it too much...

“i'll carry you to the infirmary!”

your brain clears up from the haze of agony. “...wait, you don't have to-” before you get another word in, he rushes to the clinic, and you bypass many, many people. you settle for hiding your face as best as you can.

after proper treatment, he gives you a serious apology. you learn his name is itto, and you instantly recognize him. you've heard of the name itto before, that one popular student on a sports scholarship for basketball, but he's known more for goofing off with other sports teams. he's broken a lot of windows when he played baseball... and probably also broke bones of other people when he roughhoused too much on the soccer field. it's just that he's insanely talented, enough for most people to overlook his troublesome tendencies.

anyhow, famous or infamous, you can't tell yet. but he's very much willing to make up for your injury.

a free meal would honestly suffice just fine, but even after that, he insists on following you around, offering his assistance whenever needed. and, well. you have no problems with having an extra hand to help when you need to carry heavy equipment.

then he learns about the whole secret admirer thing and he proposes he'll help you lure him out.

“and how do you intend to do that...?” you inquire just as you enter the lecture hall, itto trailing after you and setting your bag on the table. his face splits into a grin and you have a vague idea of what he plans on doing.

he wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you close to his chest.

several things happen at once. a huff leaves xiao's mouth involuntarily. the crack of pencil lead breaking into pieces sounds from beside him, scaramouche holding the pen in his hand with too much force. the laughter ringing seconds prior comes to a halt, childe's face no longer displaying a bright smile.

itto blinks, retracting his arm. he didn't expect this outcome. “you have really overprotective friends, [name].”

as one would expect, you never got the results you want because too much people react to his provocations. it's tricky to pinpoint which one of them exactly is your secret admirer when they all like you the same. (this whole situation is truly absurd. it's not that you fed all these guys love potions by accident, right?)

itto doesn't dare upsetting gorou with this though, but with anyone else, it's free game. he begins calling you the most ridiculous pet names he could come up with, in the wrong place and in the wrong time.

my precious cupcake. my sweetest honeybun. little ducky. snugglepuff. they send shivers down your spine. (albedo is noted to be most affected when itto does this. it's not hard to imagine his brain cells frying when itto shamelessly calls you by such awful names.)

but then it becomes a habit. he's not doing it ironically anymore. his mouth had become accustomed to addressing you in manners only lovers do. more often than not, your friends would be caught by surprise when he wholeheartedly calls out “babe” to earn your attention and you turn towards him as if it's like the most natural thing in the world.

the cherry on top is when you attend one of his games for the basketball team.

it's not like you wore his varsity jacket to rub into everyone's faces the fact that you're dating. nor did you wear a cheerleader outfit of some sorts to show your passionate support as his significant other. you'd only come with gorou and kokomi, waving the banner the three of you made into the air as you were seated in the stands along the sides of the court.

when they won the finals, people on your side all rejoiced, flocking over to the team to praise them and offer their congratulations. thinking it would be better to stand by instead of joining the sweaty crowd, you stood aside with kokomi while gorou insisted on diving headfirst to the sea of people.

then a tall head approaches from afar. white hair, bright eyes, and a similarly blinding smile. “[name]!”

you didn't expect him to come to you. well. spares you the effort then. you throw a towel around his neck. “you're drenched in sweat. please don't touch me.”

he frowns. “not even a congratulatory hug?”

“not when you're this gross.”

at least that wasn't a stern no. itto grins. “wasn't i great out there?” he cards his fingers into his hair, fishing for compliments. you thought he had enough of those from the crowd currently swarming him. “i did a ton of 3 pointers. you saw me, right?”

“would you be disappointed if i said i was on my phone the whole time?”

immediately, his face twists into an offended look. of course that was a lie. you laugh and lean on the tips of your toes to reach his hair, ruffling it into a mess. “kidding. you were amazing, babe.”

that moment, you hadn't seen his expression clearly, occupied with patting his head. perhaps you hadn't even realized what you called him.

but to everyone around you, they could see it, plain to the eye — the shock in his gaze, the small twitch of his lips, the rise of his brows. then his cheeks flush a lovely color as he stares at you under his lashes with a hesitance as one would look at the sun, longing to admire its radiance yet afraid to be scorched by its brilliant rays.

he takes the leap anyways, staring at you as long as he wanted.

a lovestruck fool, keen to your touch.

your secret admirer.

relatively speaking, it's an ordinary day so far.

or as ordinary as it can be with a life as silly as yours. the past few weeks didn't feel real. you wish they weren't. everything has become too complicated. everyone kept on acting suspiciously and skirting around you, avoiding eye contact only to observe you from behind.

your day starts out seeing thoma when you open your front door, both of you telling each other good morning. you pass by kazuha having breakfast at a fast food joint. then you run into itto first thing in the morning, where he gladly helps in carrying a 3d model of your project into class. kaeya swings by to bring you coffee since you didn't get a chance to visit diluc's cafe, not having the extra hand to carry among the pile you already have. you make your daily greetings, saying hi to your friends and annoying xiao, as you always do. you nod towards scaramouche, and you even had enough courage to say hi first to childe too. when walking to another lecture hall, you happen to meet albedo, gorou and zhongli in separate times.

then at lunch time, when you briefly leave your belongings alone for a moment, someone leaves a packet of candies stuffed into your bag.

a sticky note is stuck on the surface, “please meet me at the physics classroom at 6 p.m.” scrawled in black ink.

the penmanship is good. it twists in elegant curls at the edges, brush strokes light and even.

you're able to recognize it at first glance, just as kaeya has told you.

you've seen it enough times to burn it in your brain. you've rigorously studied notes with that same handwriting, after all.

at 5:56, you stand in front of the classroom doors. in different circumstances, you'd have second thoughts before blindly following somebody's orders but you know who it's from, and it is decidedly not a murderer out to get you.

you collect an intake of breath, and twist the doorknob.

the last traces of sunlight bathe the room in a heavenly glow, a haze of aureate like shimmering flecks of gold. the billowing curtains hide the figure standing by the windowsill, the gentle breeze caressing your cheeks as you squint in its direction.

the figure moves of their accord, the sound of a book snapping shut following their actions.

albedo walks out, a serene smile displaying on his sun-kissed face.

“...hey.”

your heartbeat pounds in your ears. though you expected his appearance, it does nothing to dull your surprise.

“it's you.”

albedo had always admired you in quiet adoration.

he can't provide a clear explanation why his gaze is naturally drawn to you, turquoise eyes sweeping by your countenance before he realizes it. but it started out simple, as everything does: a curiosity piqued, when he heard of a person tagging along the supposedly unapproachable girls in school.

gossip comes and goes every season, and albedo knew it will pass soon. it's only a matter of time before they cling to another topic to babble about. most likely something kaeya did again, because he chases after trouble like a dog with a bone.

rumors are nasty. they paint you in malicious light, a person seeking attention among the most eye-catching lot. you wished you were on the same league as them, they said. you were only after the benefits of acquainting with those girls, they said.

but you were special on your own.

the way you carried yourself with confidence, against the judgmental stares and muddled opinions. the way you hadn't cared about what other people said, because you knew best about the situation and you were different from what they made you out to be. the way you genuinely loved your friends, sincerely wishing them happiness and doing everything you can to put a smile on their faces.

you were dazzling.

your laughter rang like bells in his ears, your grin a delight to see. your voice was melodious as you prattled on about the latest film you watched, or as you hummed a song with headphones covering your ears. your colorful expressions were amusing, a reflection of the feelings in your heart.

as the professor drones out during lessons, albedo finds himself distracted by his daydreams. what if he stood beside you? what if he could partake in conversations, not only able to hear your voice but you'd also hear his? what if he was the one faced with your smile, the reason of your smile, the one who made you feel such joy?

what if you permitted him to go further? to brush hands with you, to intertwine your fingers in simple intimacy, to curl his arms around your waist in a loose embrace, to press a kiss on the corner of your lips-

his ears burned in humiliation. what on earth was he thinking?

but forget “seeking attention from others,” it didn't even seem like you were interested in dating.

you showed indifference towards the idea, avoiding mixers and drinking parties. you also turned down quite a few dates. not to mention albedo wasn't even friends with you. he wasn't even sure if you knew of his name.

then you showed up at the library, and for the first time, albedo was thankful for the privilege nobody bothered his table, so you could sit alone together.

you became friends after his (despairingly embarrassing) insistent attempts to acquaint himself with you.

and he files away the little details, storing the small things about you in the corner of his mind. what you like, what you dislike. what days were you free, what things you prefer over the other.

it's a happiness he relishes in, the comfort of your friendship. but his greedy little heart yearns for more, for what you cannot give.

he tries anyway.

he's running out of time. you're always surrounded by people, whether you realize it or not. but he considers himself a selfish person. he doesn't want you to be taken away.

he may lose you entirely if he does it wrong.

but you're already here, eyes gleaming, lips pressed in a nervous tight line. the red dusting your cheeks leaves some hope for him, so he musters up his courage and simplifies the storm of feelings that eats away his heart each day:

“i like you, [name].”