💌 meeting your ex, kageyama tobio, at a wedding
+ warnings: light angst to light smut
the ballroom is painted with gold and white decorations. star and moon hung across the ceilings, carefully framing the glinting chandelier above, and the walls have been re-mastered into a similar, lacey, golden pattern. there is a three layered wedding cake on the corner of the main stage, white and coated with pearls, with a topper of the bride and groom.
you wear your nicest dress tonight, one that hugs at your waist and complements your eyes. it’s a once in a lifetime occasion after all. you talk to kindachi, who you haven’t seen in several years now. because kindaichi was his friend before he was yours. not that there were sides to pick. things didn’t end that bad,
so you convince yourself.
"oh, it’s been a really long time, hasn’t it?" he asks when you see each other. the initial tension fades quickly with the both of you. that’s how it’s always been, even from the first time you were introduced.
"how’ve you been?" you ask in return. the small talk ends there, because he doesn’t hesitate to address the elephant in the room,
"have you seen kageyama since?"
you shake your head no. "not since that time,” you say. "how is he?"
kindaichi nods. "played beach volleyball with him the other day... those serves of his were as monstrous as ever. he’s gotten better though... i think, at team work."
"that’ nice to hear," you say with a smile. "is he coming today?"
"y-yeah," kindaichi says, hand on his neck, "though oikawa-san invited a lot of people, so you probably won’t see eachother."
"who would have thought oikawa would be the first to get married?"
"you can say that again," kindaichi says. "iwaizumi-san said the same thing, even though he’s best man."
“and who would have thought he’d invite his kouhai too,” you add.
"probably to rub it in his face,” kindaichi chuckles. “like a ‘ha, i beat you again, i’m married and you’re not.’”
you laugh a little. “typical.”
then kindaichi’s eyes flash, and you see the uncertainty in his eyes when he glances over your shoulder.
but you turn around, and you see him, dark hair the same as it was the last time you saw him, sharp eyes and sharper features roaming the ballroom. you should turn away, you think. you should turn away before he sees you.
it’s too late. his eyes meet yours, and you feel pinned to the spot. the same way you did when you first met him, the same way you did when he touched you for the first time, kissed you for the first time, whispered promises in your ear, promises you didn’t think he’d ever say to you.
but promises were meant to be broken, you think. a beautiful woman peeks out from next to him, and she is everything you’re not. elegance, poise, she whispers something to him before sashaying off.
he makes his way towards you.
kindaichi greets him first, “yo. you made it.”
sensing the tension between the both of you, kindaichi mutters out a quick “i’m going to get some drinks. you both want anything?” - to which you shake your head no. you were to nervous to breathe, let alone drink.
but when kindaichi leaves, and you feel like your legs are about to buckle underneath you, you keep your head up high. “long time.”
“long time,” he repeats. “did you... come with him?”
“kindaichi? no, not at all. i came alone, actually. and ... you?”
“i didn’t come with kindaichi either,” he says. and you laugh. sarcasm never appeared in kageyama’s vocabulary, but denseness was, and it was one of the things you love about him.
loved, you correct yourself.
“i’m going to go catch up with the others,” you say in a hurry. you don’t give him a chance to catch up with you.
the night is still young, they said. but it is 11pm and your eyes are already starting to flutter close.
"you’re not dancing?" comes from behind.
"no," you reply. you recognise the voice, you recognise it from the nights you spent listening to it, entangled in his arms. "you know i don’t like dancing."
"people can change," he says. and you look at him, because maybe, maybe he’s telling you something, telling you to read in-between the lines, but you tell yourself that’s not the case. because there were days you spent trying to convince yourself he cared for you. convinced yourself so much that you stayed with him throughout middle school and high school.
"i know," you say. "i watched you transform from a bad sovereign to one that actually cares about his subjects."
"then i can change from being a bad boyfriend to a good one."
you fold your legs, hands finding your cup on the table, playing with the little droplets that’s yet to fall. "that was a long time ago, you don’t need to do this. if you’re after forgiveness, i forgive you."
"i’m not after forgiveness," he says. "i’m after you."
and the intensity in his eyes almost makes you melt into a puddle of tears.
"you literally told me you didn’t care for me," you say. "i know you loved - sorry, love, volleyball with all your being, but you really hurt me."
"i’m not after your forgiveness," you cut him off softly. "shouldn’t you get back to your date?"
"my date?" kageyama asks, head tilted slightly. "you mean... my sister?"
"miwa-san?" you blurt. but it wasn’t your fault for not recognising her. you’ve been to kageyama’s house maybe only twice in the years that you were dating. and all the excuses - too busy, too tired, too...
"one more chance," he says.
"please," he decides to add.
"why didn’t you reach out before?"
"i did. i tried to call you."
"huh?" you fish out your phone. you remember a distinct number. you remember blocking it, thinking it was spam. sure enough, kageyama confirmed that was definitely his number.
"a normal person would just text," you mumble, unblocking him.
"i don’t have my phone on me much."
"i’ll wait for you," he says, standing. "i’ll wait for you outside the party in half an hour. i’ll walk you home. you look tired."
"and if i don’t show up?" you ask.
he’s silent. "then i’ll keep trying."
when he’s out of your sight, you take the next thirty minutes catching up with your friends from high school. you think about the good and the bad. you think about the first time you met, and how terrible he was in school. you think about the various advertisements he’s done for various companies and how terrible he is at acting. you think about how he held you when you failed your first exam, and the way he kissed you and how his body trembled as he did.
you think about how terrible your heart feels without him. you think about love. and the way you love him. the way he loves you.
your tears are blurring your vision. the clock strikes midnight, and you leave the party.
his eyes widen slightly when he sees you, surprise painting his features before relief softens them. "you came."
"i won’t let you down anymore."
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