His eyes were closed
You were weaving through crowds of chattering students, keeping your eyes fastened to the floor, words of apologies easily flowing out of your parted mouth as you squeezed through them. Their sheer confidence in every step they took and proud smiles plastered on their face made the inadequacy in you grow larger and larger, until you felt like you were drowning in those feelings of desperation and anxiety. You never belonged in these halls, neither did you feel deserving to even walk through them. Those pristine white tiles beneath your feet made you all the more nervous, the piece of paper clutched in your hand becoming more and more crumpled as you struggled to understand the secretary's intelligible handwriting of where the sacred principal's office was.
Despite your careful and small steps, you still managed to bump into someone the moment you rounded a corner in hopes of a quiet place to silently decipher the instructions. To be fair, the person had his eyes closed in the first place, with a dreamy smile painted on his pale face. His snow white hair stuck out at odd angles, and he had a long forest green coat with weird patterns on it snugly draped over his lanky figure. His hands were stuck in the pockets of his tight fitting dark jeans, a long chain hanging from the loop of the front of his jeans to a loop at the back. Not to mention he was apparently sleep walking, considering how his only reaction to your crash was blinking blearily at your confused and stammering figure.
In a word, he was weird.
Then, he smiled. His smile was eerie, creepy, and reminded you of someone at his death's door. Without asking or indicating for any permission at all, he gently snatched the slip of paper out of your hands, a smooth husky voice of someone just awoken slipping out from between chapped lips at he spoke the magical words of directions, with a few sharp digs at your status in this school hidden in his words. Flinching inwardly, your unsure appearance seemed to earn pity from this stranger, as his gaze softened just the slightest. Beckoning for you to follow him, he threw you his name and a smile over his shoulder, never slowing down for you.
That was the first time you met Komaeda Nagito.
His eyes were closed
Whispering his name urgently over and over again under your breath, you alternate between calling him softly and poking his sleeping figure with the blunt end of your pencil. You hiss in frustration when he refuses to wake, even when the teacher spins around, her loud, shrill voice echoing throughout the room. Wincing at the sheer volume of her voice, you're forced to turn to the front, but not before throwing your friend with a looming doom one last despairing look, willing for him to wake. Saionji spots your futile attempts at waking the sleeping boy, a devilish smirk coming across her face. Before you can stop her, she throws one slender arm up into the air, loudly saying in a sickeningly saccharine voice how much Komaeda would love to answer the question the teacher just posted. Clapping her hands in delight, she points at his figure lying atop the desk, demanding the answer right away.
As always, Lady Luck smiled upon him as he muttered the answer loud enough for the teacher to catch, his eyes still closed, his mind still half stuck in dreamland. Crowing in happiness, the teacher commends him, before continuing the lesson. Glancing at his sleeping figure, you sigh enviously and exasperatedly, as you catch a gleaming green eye peeking out and staring at you from beneath his fluffy white mane. He gives you a cheeky wink, before burrowing his face back into the welcoming darkness of his crossed arms and comfy fabric of his soft jacket.
Sighing softly once more, you roll your eyes at your unnaturally lucky best friend, a soft smile on your face. No wonder he was bestowed upon the title of Super High School Level Good Luck.
That was one of the first times you witnessed Komaeda Nagito's luck in action.
His eyes were closed
"Surprise!"
You shout as you remove your hands covering his eyes, your voice cracking at the end just a bit, a bright smile plastered on your face. You can't see his reaction right now, but you don't need to to imagine the face he's making. Chapped lips forming a perfect 'o' in surprise, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment and disbelief and eyes sparkling with delight. In front of him on the table is a birthday cake, icing messily coated on with swirly designs all over the cake in an amateurish attempt at decoration with fifteen candles stuck haphazardly on it. You shrug helplessly when you see the cake yourself, moving to stand beside him. You weren't a Super High School Level Baker after all.
But you had felt so upset and angered by the fact that it was your best friend's birthday yet nothing had been prepared for him—not even by his parents—that you'd made it your own personal duty to cheer him up and make this day as memorable as possible. Hence, most of this day had been dedicated to flipping through cookbook after cookbook and wasting vast amounts of flour, eggs, milk, whatever else was needed in baking a cake as you would throw out failed, charred creations time after time. Now, your dorm room smelled like a weird mix of burnt food and air freshener, but none of that mattered because you had a cake to present to Komaeda Nagito, had something to offer him on his special day.
He cuts out a slice of cake and gingerly bites into it, his nose scrunching up as he carefully chews the confectionery. His actions make you nervous and you lean in close subconsciously, eyebrows furrowed, worried about his reaction. He finally swallows after chewing for about a minute and declares the cake too sweet, but he takes another bite anyway so you don't think he really minds.
That was the first time you celebrated a birthday with Komaeda Nagito.
His eyes were closed
You're nervous, and you can tell he is too. His eyes are squeezed shut, his grip on your shirt tightening as every second passes. A bead of sweat can be seen trickling slowly down the side of his face, his nose brushing against yours and the both of you are so close you can feel and hear his warm breath. You focus on his long eyelashes that girls would kill to have, the rare light blush dusting his cheeks from nervousness, the way his brows crease, focusing on anything but his lips. Licking your lips, you dumbly realize you're not doing either of you a favour by hesitating for so long and decide, fuck it, and go in for the kill.
The kiss is awkward, shy and shows you exactly why you weren't chosen as Super High School Level Good Luck; you end up kissing the side of his mouth instead and embarrassing yourself thoroughly in the process. Pulling away, you can feel your face and tip of your ears burning and you mumble a stream of apologies just like how you had when you first met. Then, you hear him chuckle and gently press a finger against your lips, silencing you effectively. Leaning towards you once more, he whispers how he'll take the lead this time and moves his finger away to interlace your fingers with his loosely in comfort and encouragement before pressing his lips against yours. His lips feel dry, chapped as always but they tingle when they touch yours and cause an overwhelming sensation of bliss and ecstasy to bloom warmly in your heart and it spreads all over your body in waves. Your eyes drift to a close some time during the kiss and your free hand reaches over to grab his and you intertwine your fingers with that one too. The warmth stays even when his lips leave yours, a light smile gracing his lips as he leans his forehead against yours, sighing in contentment and happiness.
That was the first time you kissed Komaeda Nagito.
His eyes are closed.
You sit beside him, upper body bent over and lying against the cold glass cover of the pod, one arm draped across it, the other futilely trying to caress his face within. You stroke the glass, the only barrier between you and him and it takes all you have to not lose control and begin using different items to ram against the glass until it shatters and you can take your dear lover into your arms again and have him murmur comforting words into your ear while buried in the crook of his neck and breathing in his scent, that warm scent of sea air and sandalwood that always always lingered on him no matter what he wore or how many showers he took.
You feel tears begin to streak down your face and you don't bother holding them back, but you bite your lip hard to keep yourself from screaming aloud in anguish and fear and desperation because all you want is him back with you safe and unharmed and for him to tell you that everything had simply been a bad dream and laugh that stupid laugh of his when he sees you cry and wipe your tears away and tell you he's not worth crying over. That thought causes you bang your fist against the glass and release a choked scream, one that sounds like a mix of a sob and a wail, because yes, yes he was worth crying over, yes he was worth spending countless sleepless nights wondering if the next day would be his last, yes he was worth waiting for and yes he was worth staying alive in his damned twisted world because he was perfect and beautiful and brought you so much happiness and joy you would rather die than let him waste away in that pod.
Yet you know there's nothing you can do to help him or alleviate the situation so you just slide from your chair and let it clatter onto the floor as you slump kneeling onto the floor, sobbing and wailing and running your hand over the glass where his face is over and over until Kuzuryuu comes and pulls you up by your collar and shouts at you to get a grip and how much Komaeda would hate to see you like this right now and angrily questions if you're going to let despair conquer you again. Throughout this you're crying brokenly, stopping only to heave loud big gasps of air and hiccup painfully. Kuzuryuu's voice cracks and betrays his true emotions and the turmoil he's being put through as well at the end of his berate and you can see his eyes glinting with unshed tears through bleary tear filled eyes and you shake your head, tears still streaming down but mouth no longer agape in a dreadful wail. He gives you a sharp nod and lets you go, causing you to lose your balance for a moment and stumble backwards into Komaeda's pod of which you lean against for support.
Taking in several breaths to calm yourself down, you silently thank Kuzuryuu's retreating back for his support and wipe your eyes clear of tears. Turning around, you proceed to absent mindedly rub away any tear stains on the glass and bend over close to Komaeda's face and whisper promises to visit tomorrow again and he better not die on you as you fondly stroke the glass, wishing it was his soft locks your hand was running through and press your lips against the cool surface where his lips lay hidden below, closing your eyes, allowing yourself to believe for a moment that it wasn't the glass you were kissing but his warm lips. But the imagery makes your heart ache and tears threaten to spill once more so you open your eyes, murmur a last goodbye before walking out the labotary.
That may have been the last time you would see him alive.
A/N: Super overdue komahina fanfic! I hope you enjoyed it uvu