“The guide online told me…jesus christ.” Kageyama muttered under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He glanced haphazardly at the watch on his wrist.
It was currently 3:23AM and Kageyama Tobio was still awake- this time, by choice.
A sound, created by small, inexperienced hands that had not yet been molded into calluses strummed the guitar with great uncertainty. Kageyama stood in front of the short boy with the blazing hair, looking and feeling much like a loser in his boxer shorts and t-shirt. He should have changed instead of charging right out of his hotel room.
"Not really. You kind of suck.” he snorted. “Ok- well, it’s not you that sucks, it’s more the guitar.” Kageyama explained, taking a seat next to the other.
"First of all, that website must’ve been some completely bullshit cause that guitar needs tuning, big time.” He motioned a hand towards the guitar. “As for the guitar itself, it kind of looks like you pulled it out of the trash.”
Why was Kageyama being so nice to this asshole? Giving him advice and shit like that. He was even being courteous.
A trickle of confusion snaked it’s way around Kageyama’s mind, swirling his thoughts into a mesh of incomprehension.
It’s sleep deprivation, he would think to himself. I’m just so goddamn tired I’m not acting like myself.
Admitting that he saw potential in another human being was far too unorthodox for Kageyama to even consider.
acrid was his tongue against hinata's own retort; he
meant well, but his way of meaning well was nothing
to be fawning over. a boost of confidence came with
the fact that someone else had confirmed that it was
not he who was not on the right track, but rather his
current instrument, petulant tune stinging the air with
its crisply crude strings.
❛ and how come you know all these things? are
you some expert, or something? ❜
did this guy think he could just waltz down here in
his underwear and start lecturing him about how he's
playing? and although he was reluctant about the idea
of this boy basically insulting his dreams, the idea was
reeling in his attention more and more; the guide online
had probably given him a virus and his guitar was most
certainly not from a hand-me-down store.
❛ but if you are, you should teach me!! no one in my
family is exactly willing -- not even my lil' sis. my
mom thinks it's stupid and won't get a tutor, and i'm
broke! ❜
and even though his morals were going out on a limb asking
this stranger to cater to his needs, it had been his only -- and
last -- option; nimble hands pushed the wooden piece forth
into his acquaintance's lap, a pair of his eyes gleaming with
his own desire, his own passion. intimidation washed at his
feet, the tide pulling the feeling far away from him; the only
thing that swallowed him was his own resolve, gaze fixated
on his mirror. he needed this, more than anything, and if this
boy was to give him a tip or two, then so be it.
