11:39 pm + kageyama tobio
+ love at first sight
kageyama is a man of routine. every saturday, he goes to the gym, practices his sets almost endlessly, eats a big dinner, watches some volleyball clips, and heads to the convenience store by his apartment for a late-night snack. and without a doubt, he's always searching for meat buns and steaming hot ramen.
you, on the other hand, find yourself at the convenience store one saturday hoping to find snacks to fuel your late-night study sessions. finals are creeping around the corner, and no amount of iced coffee can prepare you for the amount work you have. exhaustion radiates from your body, making each step feel heavy and sluggish.
you browse the shelves of the first aisle, picking up random snacks that catch your eye, the cute characters making them incredibly hard to resist. the fluorescent lights of the convenience store combined with the fatigue of your past all-nighters make your mind foggy; you’re too slow to realize that you’re about to walk straight into a towering figure.
“oh, sorry about that,” is all you can say, humiliation taking over your body, your ears burning from the sudden run-in.
“it’s fine,” a deep voice answers, and by the look on the guy’s face, you’ve been successful at ticking him off. he takes note of the way you avert your eyes out of intimidation, but he continues. “are you okay? i mean, sorry about dropping your things”
“it’s okay! i’m all good.”
silence fills the space between you two, the cheery pop song blasting through the store speakers lightening up the situation.
for some reason that he just can’t figure out, he struggles to take his eyes off you.
a second passes, then two. a soft smile breaks out on your face because of the way his eyes are watching you, because of the way he’s fiddling with his hands. he moves his gaze elsewhere, opting to look at the shiny tiles beneath his sneakers.
you move along after you’ve gathered your snacks from his hands, and you see him again in the next aisle — he also goes aisle by aisle, you guess.
“nice seeing you again.” a breathy laugh leaves your lips, and again, you’re smiling up at him. he glances at you to return an equally beautiful (yet, bashful) one.
wordlessly, you start walking side-by-side. he’s looking over at you from time to time, watching you as you scan the shelves stocked with bright sodas and drinks. he takes a deep breath, and then another until he gains the courage to ask — “sorry if this is a little… forward, but you have pretty eyes.” he stammers, but continues. “can i buy you some ice cream? or a drink if you aren’t a fan of ice cream? or maybe chips?” his face flushes, but he can’t stop the words coming out of his mouth. “to make up for dropping your things” he quips.
(he knows it wasn’t his fault — he’s too stubborn to even argue against it — but he feels the need to make it up to you, to make you look up at him with that pretty smile.)
kageyama feels the back of his neck burn up — the blood coursing through his veins as if he’s about to play an incredibly important and life-changing game on the court. you don’t catch the light blush on his ears, thankfully, but you do note his dashing features. his eyes are dark, kind, and inviting.
and with no hesitation, you nod and lead the way to the freezer at the back of the convenience store. you both know the way around this store like the back of your hand, but he likes the way you take the lead. he opens it for you, and gestures for you the pick a cold treat. he picks one for himself and closes it, quickly checking his appearance in the reflection of the glass.
“what’s your name, by the way? i don’t usually let strangers buy me ice cream.” you sound amused at the whole situation, and he gets why — this probably isn’t the smoothest way to get to know you, but he can’t think of anything else, not when you’re looking up at him with those glimmering eyes.
“oh, right. i’m kageyama,” he tells you, smiling back at you, a genuine one that causes little crinkles to form by his eyes. and as you tell him your name, he tilts his head and listens to the way it flows off your tongue. again and again, he repeats it in his head, committing the sound of your voice to memory.
he’s never felt quite this enamored by anyone.
and after you both pay for your snacks, ice cream in hand, he leads you to the parking lot lit by the neon signs of the convenience store. it’s far too cold outside for ice cream, but spontaneity calls for a little risk. it may be the middle of december, cold puffs of air leaving your lips, but the warmth of your cheeks makes the cold sensation almost unnoticeable. sitting down at the bench out front, you pat the spot beside you so he can sit there, and he does (a little far, but still a comfortable distance away).
you’re the one who breaks the silence. “thank you for the ice cream. it was really sweet of you.” he simply nods, then opens his mouth to speak, thinking about his words carefully so as to not make you uncomfortable.
“can i maybe get your number in return? this was, uh, nice.”
his hand brushes yours as he hands you his phone (and you can’t help but grin at his lockscreen — a picture of him and his team on the court).
and even years later, this little convenience store becomes apart of your routine as you and your raven-haired boyfriend walk to the back of the store, hand in hand, to treat him to ice cream after a big win. thinking of it now, it's funny how a mere stranger, a passerby, can become the person you love most in life — the one you spend every saturday with underneath the neon lights.
♡︎ ; @tomankitten
