You cast a glance at the brunet sitting two seats away from you. When he returns your gaze, you blink twice quickly and turn away, focusing your attention back on the blackboard. Biting your lip, you draw a bit of blood and wipe it away with the back of your hand; you sense but refuse to respond to the intense gaze your ex-boyfriend is sending you.
"Oikawa, is something the matter?" You look up at the teacher, then at said male. Scanning him up and down from two seats over is a bit tough, but you manage to do it.
He looks a bit thin… is he not eating well? You try to suppress the memories of the bento boxes you made him for lunch so often. He has bags under his eyes. He should sleep more. Shaking your head, you squeeze your eyes shut in an effort to ignore the image of Oikawa falling asleep in your lap as the two of you lounge around at his house watching television. His collar is uneven… did he not have enough time this morning to straighten it? With a quick sidelong glance at Oikawa, you let loose a small sigh.
"(First Name), are you alright?" Your friend pokes you on your arm and leans backward in her chair. "Stop staring at Oikawa like that. He'll think you want him back," she says, twirling her pencil in her fingers. "It's almost break. C'mon, relax."
You barely manage to nod at her statements. "Got it…"
Packing your stuff into your small bag, you jolt upwards and heave it over your shoulders before speed-walking out of the university lecture hall.
Once you're out of sight, you collapse against a wall and press a hand to your rapidly beating heart. "That was close… if he came up to me after class and insisted on talking to me, I don't think I would've lasted."
You crumple down to the ground, elbows resting on your knees and head falling into your hands. "I need a break."
Oikawa watches you practically run out of the classroom and he suppresses a small smile. I can still startle you, huh? He recalls your faint blush when he would hug-attack you from behind so many times before, the small squeak you would give him when he pecked your cheek before class, the way you would blink twice when he asked you out on dates on the weekends. You haven't changed.
He stands, bag full of books in hand, and follows you out of the lecture hall. Tailing you, he hides along the brick wall corner with you on the other side of it.
You heave a sigh of relief, but it's short-lasted as you hear a pair of footsteps stop just feet away from you, on the other side of the building corner. Oikawa, that bastard. He's following me. You glance up when a pair of shoes enter your vision from the front, to see another male standing in front of you.
"Um, (First Name)?"
Dusting off your skirt, you stand and clutch your bag to your chest. "Hey, Kai. What's up?"
"I was wondering… would you go out with me?" His eyes are downcast, lips slightly parted as he bows at a small angle to you. "I've liked you for a while, and I know you just broke up with Oikawa—"
You stiffen at the mention of your ex. "Don't bring him up."
Your ex-boyfriend sighs softly at your harsh tone, pressing up against the wall and sidling a little bit closer towards you. She gets like that when she's caught off guard. But don't tell me she's going to…
"Sorry! But will you still go out with me?"
It'd be good to get back at Oikawa. You mull it over, raising a hand to your chin as you relax in your stance. Maybe… Maybe I will. "Yeah."
The boy standing in front of you glances up at you. "W-What?"
Oikawa starts, eyes widening before shaking a few locks of hair out of his stares down at his hand, clenching and unclenching his fist.
"I said, yeah. I'll go out with you." Doing your best not to glance around the corner, where Oikawa definitely is standing and eavesdropping, you loop your arm in with Kai's and give him a wide smile. "Where do you want to go?"
You can hear two loud footsteps stomp away and you hide a sly grin behind your hand. Oikawa, you sly bastard.
Screw volleyball practice. The brunet practically runs all the way home, ignoring the faint beeps and vibrations coming from his phone.
Panting, he rests his hands on his knees before reaching for his keys and entering his apartment. Closing the door lightly behind him, he collapses against it and slides down, grabbing fistfuls of his hair.
Why are you doing this? He inhales shakily, body quivering. Are you trying to manipulate me? Trying to get a rise out of me? What do you want from me?
He slams a fist to the ground as a tear streaks down his cheek. God dammit, (First Name), I went out with you for a year! He trembles as he exhales, staring down at the hardwood floor. You… weren't just a fling. Grabbing the front of his shirt, he bends over his knees and hangs his head. I genuinely loved you.
He remains in that position for some time.
A wan smile forces its way across his face as he looks up to stare at the off-white wallpaper. You're pathetic, (First Name), you know that? Going out of your way for revenge… trying to provoke me to get a reaction out of me… it's so unlike you. Oikawa slowly stands up, kicking his bag across the floor. Picking up his phone, he turns it on and stares at the wallpaper of you and him smiling happily at the camera. You can't be having all the fun post-breakup, you know.
Stop acting like you're all that
You're actually the most pathetic
Yeah, try to provoke me even more
So I can have some fun for a moment
It's been two months since your breakup with Oikawa, and you've gone through about three or four boyfriends since, including Kai. You're known as a bit of a player on the university campus now but the boys still insist on lining up before you, hoping that they'll be "the one" for you.
You're leaning against the same brick wall where Kai first asked you out; it's becoming known as the place to go if a guy wanted to confess to you. One leg in front of the other, you scan the male standing in front of you quickly.
Tall… raven-haired… earnest eyes, broad shoulders… he seems nice. A wicked grin slides across your face, but you hide it with your hand when the boy looks up at you, eyes shining with hope. Nice and naïve… the best possible combo.
Linking your arm with his, you practically coo at your latest catch.
You're fully aware that Oikawa just happened to turn the corner and that he can see the both of you now. As a result, you pull your new man towards you and start making out with the guy greedily.
It's your way of getting Oikawa back, after all. He's infamous for his flings and one night stands with the girls on campus, and he's fallen back into his old ways once again after your breakup with him.
The sound of your ex clearing his throat makes you stop kissing your new date. Exhaling slowly, you wipe your lips with the back of your hand and glare at the brunet. "What do you want, Oikawa?"
"PDA's not allowed on campus you know, (First Name)~" he says, giving a knowing glance at your new boy toy.
"Not like that's stopped you before."
The brunet looks over at the other male. "She's gonna break up with you, you know that, right?"
You gaze evenly at Oikawa. "What do you want, Trashykawa?"
"Oh, so harsh, (First Name)!" He shivers, throwing you a mocking grin. "I just wanted to say hi and to see how you're doing, but," he sighs, waving a hand in the air. "I can obviously see that you're doing Mr. Wonderful over here." The brunet raises an eyebrow at your skirt, hiked up higher than usual, and your lipstick stains all over the onyx-haired male's face.
Flushing a deep red, your nails dig into the palms of your hands as you tense up. "Do you want to fight, Oikawa?"
"Remember when you called me Tohru so long ago?" He smirks. "The way you sounded when you screamed my name… begged for more… mewed in pure pleasure… remember that? The way you—"
"Shut up."
"Pardon? I didn't shut up, and neither did you. In fact, I recall you asking me – no, pleading with me – to do you harder." Oikawa casts a glance at the male standing next to you and the brunet's eyes flash. "Sorry, am I bothering you?"
"Come on, let's go." Grabbing your new boyfriend's hand, you storm away from the brunet.
Oikawa watches the two of you walk away, the guy throwing a cautious glance over his shoulder at the Grand King before being dragged away by you again.
You know, (First Name), playing around is how you get hurt. He suppresses a wan smile, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. You're going to wake up one day with a splitting headache and wonder why you did it at all.
The brunet takes out his phone and glances at it, staring yet again at his wallpaper of you and him smiling into the camera. He rubs your face in the picture lightly, humming to himself before narrowing his eyes and turning off the device. Trust me, you'll regret it.
If you only chase after money, power and fame
Your crotch is gonna rip and you're gonna fall
They say love is good, friendship is good
But be warned, the back of your head might be in pain
You stand in front of Oikawa, glaring at the taller male. "Get out of my way."
"(First Name), why are you being so harsh?" He pouts, staring down at you as he sizes you up.
"Because you, Shittykawa, deserve it."
He grabs your shoulder as you try to push past him out the door. "Wait just a sec. Tell me something, would you?"
You glance up at him, eyes flashing. "Why would I ever do that?"
"Same reason why I'm here trying to talk to you."
Letting out a sigh, you stand back a bit from the tall male. "What do you want, Oikawa?"
"Call me Tohru."
"Will that make this go faster?"
"Yeah~"
You slide into a chair, crossing your legs and sighing. "Fine. Tohru. What do you want?"
"I want to know why you're doing this."
"I'm not doing anything right now," you say, looking over your nails nonchalantly and trying to ignore the intense gaze he's sending you right now.
"I think you know what I mean, (First Name)."
You cock your head as you look up at your ex. "What do you mean?"
"Don't make me spell it out for you. Why are you playing around?"
"Hey, are those new volleyball shoes?" You glance down at his feet. "How's volleyball going? Still the captain, yeah? You haven't been usurped yet? You barely go to practice." Shit. I wasn't supposed to tell him I've been watching him.
He raises an eyebrow at your statement but doesn't reply, instead saying, "Why are you playing around?"
"I have my reasons. Hey, did you get a new steady girlfriend yet? No? You're still hung up about me, huh, Tohru~?" You drawl out his first name, blinking twice slowly as you give him a sultry gaze, you lips parted slightly.
The brunet grits his teeth. "Why are you playing around?"
You stand and walk towards him, stopping when you're shoulder to shoulder with Grand King. Tapping his arm softly, you whisper, "I think you know why."
Hey doctor doctor, please save me
Because I'm about to go insane
Stop trying to awkwardly change the subject
Hear me say
Oikawa sits on his bed, staring at the wall as he mulls over the conversation he had with you earlier today. The room is dark and the moon shines in weakly through the open window, but he makes no move to turn on the lights.
He gropes around in the dark and his fingers close on a necklace of yours, left on his bedside table so many nights ago. It was your favorite. He inhales sharply as he tries to suppress the memories welling up inside of him, playing out inside his mind like they would in a movie theater.
The brunet remembers the way you'd intertwine your fingers with his, the way he'd rub the palm of your hand, the way he'd raise your digits to his lips and kiss them like a prince would to a princess.
He remembers the way your eyes would flutter when he did that, the way you'd crack a small smile and laugh your lilting laugh, the way you'd ruffle his chestnut hair in response.
He remembers the way you'd fall asleep on his chest, breathing in and out in a steady rhythm. He remembers the way you'd wake up next to him, groggy and disoriented in the morning. He remembers the way he'd tickle-attack you and the way you'd shriek and laugh, limbs flailing wildly as the two of you engaged in a makeshift war.
He'd always win that war in the end, that much was true.
Oikawa glances at the clock sitting on his bedside table. The luminescent hour hand hovers over the 3, trembling slightly as the second hand makes its painstaking way around the circle.
The Grand King rubs his eyes slowly.
It's hard for me to be sober
I can't do anything
I hate being sober
I can't fall asleep without you
The next day, Oikawa turns over and throws a pillow at the wall. I guess I fell asleep after all. He checks the time – 11:00 am – and sighs. Well, that's okay. It's Saturday.
The brunet stares at the clock, watching the hands crawl around in circles.
Before he realizes it, it's 1 pm and he's done nothing. Well, it's not like I wanted to do anything. He runs a hand through his messy hair and heaves a sigh. I need to practice my serve, do laundry, get food, bother Iwaizumi, get a haircut, do some homework…
Oikawa falls back onto his bed.
Time is so damn slow, I'm just growing old, I live like I'm dead
I have so many damn things to do but I have nothing that I want to do
It's not that Oikawa doesn't want to get any girls, it's just that he can't.
They watch him as he goes to and from classes, between academics to lunch and back, and from academics to volleyball. Their gazes bite into his back, stab between his shoulder blades, chill him to the bone.
You're both in the same grade, but looking at the brunet, you would least suspect him to be in his second to last year of university. From the way he acts around girls – "What an immature guy!" they say – to the way he constantly annoys you – "Why is he pouting? What is he, five?" you say – it's hard to believe he's in his early twenties and not late teens.
Maybe he's immature because of you.
Maybe he's acting like a five-year-old because of you.
Maybe he can't get girls… because he doesn't want them. Because he wants you.
The world is cold to me
People's eyes are prickling on me
I seem like an adult but I'm really a child that's really tall
My young dreams are just faded fantasies
My mood is like a vast wilderness
People don't understand me
So I just wanna lose it without even knowing
Oikawa sits at the bar, tracing the swirling grains of mahogany wood on the counter. He collapses with his face lying on his arm, a glass of scotch resting in his hand. Ah… I'm drunk.
He can feel the burning in his throat slowly fade away, then rekindle as he knocks back another shot from the cup in his other hand. He's certain his face is flushing red and that the girls sitting across the bar are laughing at him, but he takes out his phone and ignores them.
Turning it on, he lets out a sigh as he stares at the wallpaper of you and him grinning cheekily up at him. Raising a hesitant thumb, he's almost about to call you, but shakes his head and decides against it.
He pays his bill quickly and staggers out of the bar towards his apartment.
Oikawa wakes up the next day with a raging headache.
To think I almost called you, (First Name)… the male stares at himself in the mirror and mockingly smiles at his reflection. I'm… He lets out a short bark of a laugh. What a loser.
Get drunk, get drunk, go to heaven
After I wake, I'm in hell, I don't last long
I'm like Popeye without spinach
The laughter bomb tempts me
Without you, I'm still left alone here
I'm waiting for you, only believing in you
But I'm a fool, no no no
Oikawa stands in front of the bakery, a silly yet self-deprecating grin plastered on his face. Walking inside, he hears the faint jingle of bells hanging from the door and the smell of sweets and freshly baked bread engulfs him. He stands in line, hood pulled over his head and hands jammed in his pockets.
"Yeah. Hi. I'd like a milk bread," he says, running a limp hand through his wild mess of brown curls. The Grand King ignores the doting gaze the cashier gives him as she runs off to get his order; he instead turns to look around the shop, noting the pastel interior and the softly sparkling lights hanging from the walls. This place hasn't changed at all.
He pays and takes a seat in front of the window, where he used to sit with you on dates here.
Breaking off a piece of bread, he inhales the scent deeply and closes his eyes. I remember when we used to come here. You'd order a piece of strawberry cake and a cup of green tea, and I'd take my milk bread…
His hand wanders to the chair next to him, his arm reaching out for your shoulders.
He feels nothing but air as his eyes fly open. Clenching and unclenching his fist, he stares at the empty seat next to him, eyes glazed and lips slightly parted.
He bites his lip and frowns. Maybe I should call you. Maybe I should take you on a date again.
Your familiar laugh rings in his ears as he remembers the times when you'd spoon-feed him pieces of your cake, when he'd kiss your cheek and lick the cream off it at the same time, when you'd steal his bread and pretend to eat it all while he pouted in the corner.
He leans back in his plastic chair as he watches the flood of people outside the shop. You used to love wondering about the lives people led… Oikawa remembers how you'd make up stories about the lady in the red coat – "She's an architect who used to be a real-estate agent and now she designs the houses she used to sell!" – and how you'd lean your head on his shoulder, purring softly when he stroked your hair. He remembers how you'd always carry chocolates in your bag, how he'd always carry you back to his place when it was raining (he knew you'd fall otherwise), how you'd fuss over him like a mother hen when he sneezed just once.
A single tear streaks down his cheek.
It's hard for me to be sober
I can't do anything
I hate being sober
I can't fall asleep without you
He sits on the edge of his bed, head in his hands and elbows resting on his knees. "Do you like being such a player, (First Name)?" he whispers as he stares out the window at the pale moon.
The stars twinkle in the night, the leaves casting ethereal shadows on his face through the window in the moonlight. "I told you you'd regret it," he murmurs as he watches a small bird flit across the yard and land on a branch. "But do you?"
His phone vibrates. He ignores it, instead turning to glance at the clock. It reads 12am: midnight.
"You know, (First Name), I can't sleep well," he muses out loud. "Why is that?"
Maybe it's because he misses the way your frame would press against his, the way he could press his face into your hair and smell your favorite shampoo, the way he could wrap his body around yours, the way he could wake up and still have you by his side.
Maybe it's because he misses your teasing voice in the morning, misses the tickle-fights and the peaceful breakfasts, misses the daily commute to class together, misses the study dates and the late-night cram sessions together right before exam week.
Maybe it's because he misses the way he could fall asleep with you in his arms, reassured that you'll be there when he wakes up. Maybe it's because he misses your steady breathing next to him when he starts awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. Maybe it's because he misses your groggy fumbles at 3am for his arm, your sleepy way of telling him that you're still there for him.
Maybe it's because he misses you.