everybodyâs falling in love but me
âż wc; 2k+
âż Sakusa Kiyoomi x gn reader ; dramatic fluff, for me this is really a cute fic, hope you like it
âż have you ever felt like everyoneâs been experiencing love and relationships as if it was a trend and youâre getting left behind? I wrote this fic because of that
He hears another rant from Atsumu. Hinata rushes to guess, and Sakusa doesnât need to listen further to determine what this is all about.
Love. Again.
How long did Atsumuâs previous partner lasted? Two weeks? 6 days? A night?
He sat at the gym floor and sees Bokuto smiling cheekily despite his girlfriend coming over to scold him for overexerting given his shoulder injury. Hinata is on a call with Kageyama, grinning and jumping, as if practice was not tiring enough.
He passes on Atsumuâs request, heavily declining to stay up until midnight taking care of wobbly legs and liquor drowned cognition. And for a well-built set of athletes, it sure is a heavy work.
Besides, the topic will be the same. Atsumu vents, hogs all the drama, Bokuto and Hinata would comfort him while Meian tries to give a man-to-man advice. And when the night breeze grows heavy and their hazy eyes starts to cloud with brimming tears with a weird mixture of laughter, only tales of love would escape their lips.
Sakusa shakes his head and hurries packing up knowing the blonde setter would drag everyone out for a drink. And no matter what kind of opinion he says, his teammates would point out his own demise. Right, he is not even in a relationship.
All his friends seem to feel warm and giddy talking about the important people in their life. Sure, their partners had flaws, but all those details seem to fit the puzzle. Drawn back by time again and again, as if tethered by invisible threads of affinity, through complains and smiles, they keep coming back.
Like it was meant to be.
Even if it meant his heart would always be at the edge of heaven and hell all the time?
He likes his comfort zone as it is even if it means he is alone. Alone but not lonely, well, most of the time.
Sakusa canât fathom the idea of how they can be willing to gamble on the table, hoping that their partner would show a card of heart.
Of all computed probabilities, love must be a question of chance.
Dumb luck. Fate. Destiny.
Whatever it is, his walls are tall enough for love to even take a peek.
Sometimes, confusion spreads over him, was he being left out? Is his heart just half a piece and thereâs actually a need for someone to complete it?
Actually, he never liked putting much effort in liking someone. Simply, the time and attention to spend, he thinks it is not worth it.
He assumes several points, mostly illogical, but he thinks otherwise.
First, to get used to someoneâs warmth and the eternal winter that would follow once itâs gone. Second, he doesn't want to be a memory in someone's past, archived and forgotten as though once upon a time, he was just a side character in a story.
Lastly, but of course you will never hear him admit it.
He feels scared. Once he ends up alone, back to how he always was, he does not know how to cope with such loss.
With that, he prefers not feeling anything, getting attached, or falling in love at all.
Thereâs the constant fear of being left alone and hurt. For a heart to get used to a rhythm and then long a melody of what your heartbeat used to dance to.
But of course, he knows it is more complicated than that. And it was never easy admitting it. Itâs hard to express this feeling. Of hoping to love and be loved, at the same time still enjoying the peace of solitude.
It seems to be an ignorant bliss, when you donât know love drawn along the lines of commitment. Sure, he can admire someone but not in a way thereâll be a ring on his finger someday and vows will be exchanged.
His feelings were often intellectualized, and the words just never materialize.
Thereâs another fear that lingers, that admitting his feelings means a promise. That he will never leave them too.
What if his feelings change along the way?
He admires the concept of affection and intimacy but not when it is about someoneâs name to be carved in his heart.
It seems fun. No, fun is not the word for it. Itâs difficult to describe, but loving and being loved must be something special.
âWho am I to find joy in such experience?â He often asks himself.
So, he will simply think about this for a few nights, or days, or during showers, in-between tv shows, just enough to acknowledge this feeling and let it go.
See, thereâs a lot of issues he is still working on. And may it be a decade or a century, he wishes to be well prepared before he falls in love.
Because he knows when he falls, it will be like gravity had him on a chokehold.
âYouâre meeting again?â Bokuto asks. Suddenly, everyoneâs attention is on him.
Itâs an early end for their practice today. It barely warmed him up. Although Sakusa protests, he plays anyway. He grumbles but still plays volleyball all too well. Hinata complains how he can hate and love a thing, and still be good at it.
âRight Omi, I wonder whyâs thatâ Atsumu sneaks a remark, with a hand placed on his shoulder, eyebrows wiggling. His teammates are too good at jumping, often at conclusions.
âItâs for that case settlementâ Sakusa replies.
âThe house ownership?â Everyone pauses to listen as Atsumu speaks. âWonder how someone did manage to scam youâ Atsumuâs right. He thinks of himself as ahead of analyzing people, turns out heâs vulnerable when someone offers something with the label âsaleâ.
âWhy not let it go? Youâre rich, unless you want to keep going on those âcase meetingsâ huhâ
Sakusa simply sighs. The scammer was caught months ago, but there wasnât any progress on who gets the house. Sakusa Kiyoomi, who finally decided to buy a house, somehow ended up tangled with you.
Both of you paid the full amount for the house, caught off guard by the âsaleâ. Said it was 50% off (it never was). Truly, the scammer knows capitalism by its roots, selling the house to both Sakusa and you, presented as a bargain but gained twice the amount. And unfortunately, the money was gone in thin air. The positive side was, it was named after you and Sakusa but both of you have to decide how to settle the ownership.
The judge suggested two options:
a) one gets the house, the other compensated with money
b) sell the house, both gets compensated with money
However, both of you refuses to give away the house. Itâs a perfect deal, both near your workplaces, spacious, newly renovated, completely furnished, and has that perfect aesthetic of the interior you both dreamed of.
Sakusa already told this dilemma to his teammates. He has no choice, itâs been months, and both of you kept meeting but ends up arguing. No wins, no losses. A perfect stagnant problem.
âLet Kiyoomi enjoy his datesââ
âItâs a meetingâ Sakusa retorts.
âRight, and the sunâs a starâ Atsumu rolls his eyes.
âItâs a star?â Hinata quickly replies, with furrowed brows.
âWell, whatever you call it, seems like youâre enjoying anywaysâ Atsumu shrugs. Bokuto and Hinata nods.
âTheyâre annoying at bestâ Sakusa replies, massaging his forehead thinking what chaos it will be again later.
âIf you donât like each other so much, why bother meet all the time?â Hinata asks.
âSpecifically, at least twice a weekâ Bokuto agrees.
And Sakusaâs left defenseless. His walls came crashing down.
He ignores everything they say after, as he usually does. He finishes packing up and proceeds to check your message. He searches the location where your date will beâdiscussion, he smiles at his silly mistake.
On the other hand, you are getting uneasy how today will turn out although you are sure an argument will be present. Itâs quite a joke you kept meeting someone despite your desire to avoid things that are a waste of time.
Meeting Sakusa is not a waste of time, isnât it?
You deny the excitement building up waiting on him as he shows up in gym clothes compared to your academia themed outfit. It was like someone on a fitness journey was meeting up with a crumbling postgrad student.
With black sweatpants, an inch higher than his ankle, and his regular fitted black shirt, you spot Kiyoomi. As marvelous and nonchalant as ever.
Kiyoomi looks from outside the cafeâs window and pauses for almost a minute, thinking of something nice to say.
You also prepared a few phrases on your mind, something about the weather. How cloudy skies compliments the hue of his hair and eyes, captivating his features so well.
But the moment you meet, and words come out from your mouths, he was baffled how something about the weather turned into an argument about ecological footprints. Maybe because Kiyoomi kept on using his car despite the training venue being streets away. You point it out and Kiyoomi would never admit his purpose of hoping to drive you home sometime. So, he contradicts your words by the number of items you kept on purchasing and why consumerism keeps on depleting the earthâs resources.
After some lengthy banter, silence precedes.
But Sakusa wonders what remains loud, no oneâs talking but something remains loud.
Then he realizes, thereâs the beat on his chest.
He begins to get baffled by how many paradoxes can exist all at once.
Like how he can hate your guts but keeps making his days available just to see you.
How can he be so selfish of not wanting to give up the house just so he can hear you ramble about your life, why it was your dream house, how can it benefit your working hours, and how you hate pets are not allowed in your current apartment complex.
He hates this. How his practice tires him out but ends up coming back to meet you. Like it was meant to be.
You could also list your reasons to hate him.
You hate how he becomes silent suddenly. But his nonverbal gestures tell a lot and more than what you need to know. Like how his lips slowly lift when your reasoning was actually right. Or the way he orders for the both of you and never misses any detail, he gets it right without even asking you. Even the way he leans forward slightly just so he can hear you clearly and remind you he is listening whenever you share anything.
You begin to remind yourself, think with your head not that thing in your chest.
Of all computed probabilities, love may not be a question of chanceâŠbut a choice.
Dumb luck. Fate. Destiny.
Whatever it was, he might be slowly getting it.
You are not there to complete him. Neither he does. But simply sitting in front of him, with his pretty hair, and cute grunts. And all his snide remarks, the comments how your outfit suits you, remembering what your favorite coat is, his random sarcasm, how he remembers all the stories you told him.
His mandatory habit of collecting the receipt with your doodles, how he informs you ahead of his schedule making sure you are a part of it, and simply being with each other.
It is not just a question what this situation is. It is an enigma.
You hate him.
And damn right, he hates you too.
But you both say goodbye with smiles on your face.
Another meeting is set on a shared online calendar you previously both agreed on.
Also, the house still belongs to both of you.
a/n: I admit I get jealous of the "love experience" and I admit I never tried a relationship. Because like what I wrote, it was not the fear of love, it's the fear of losing someone you love.
