Tease (Sou x Reader)
It was a scorching, sweltering heat emanating from the crystal-clear glass, pervading the room with its unwavering grip. A gentle, feeble breeze tousles his snowy white hair -- idiosyncratic to his surroundings -- and he finds himself wanting to escape the cloth constricting his body. He had always preferred colder climate; perhaps it was his hair, the perfect shade of snow white, paired with his equally icy blue eyes framed by his spectacles or simply that he found it uncomfortable underneath the unrelenting sun did he favor the sharp nip of bitter cold and the flurry of minuscule ice descending from the murky skies.
He found himself longing for the wintry that passed all too fast. There were days where he would stand out in the snow, a scarf wrapped snug around his neck and a knitted hat that you’d given him, insisting that it would ‘bring out his eyes’. He found it a sight to marvel; ice -- something both beautiful and dangerous -- could float so harmlessly down to the ground, eagerly relishing the short span of drifting and bobbing about in the cool air. His breath would escape in visible puffs of cool air, presenting a magnificence of its own.
Reminisce brought about a newer, aching form of longing and he sets down the sleek, silver laptop, a soft blue light radiating from its interior. A sigh escapes his rosy lips and he finds it a reckless decision to wear such restraining clothing. His jacket is hurriedly disposed of -- neatly, of course. It is folded and set away into the hamper, and it does not come as a surprise that his worn clothes are often mistaken for his crisp, clean clothing adroitly set to the side.
Izumi is never one for exposing his skin to garner the affections of the opposite gender but he decides that the weather in itself is simply too much to bear, so off went his shirt, clinging onto his skin and damp with sweat. Stray strands of hair linger on his glistening forehead and he tentatively holds a white, feathery towel and dabs gently to remove the moisture the had accumulated. Lone beads of sweat -- cooling the moment a breeze descends upon it -- lazily roll down his well-toned muscles.
His shoulders are knotted and throb subtly from misuse and he rolls them back, muscles rippling in perfect synchrony, in a futile attempt to relieve the pressure. His reflection stares back at him, following his every movement. Izumi amuses himself by stepping back slightly and extending both arms, either index finger extending as he rotates his wrist to and fro in a smooth, fluid motion. His movements are comparable to that of a river -- seamless and continuous and he raises his gloved hands, angled at the knuckle to mimic a quick stroke. Azure eyes stare back at him and he is startled by your imploring eyes reflected in the background.
An instinctive brush of his hair (though without the need of much styling, it would remain in place and obey his wishes) and the adjustment of his glasses is warranted by your unexpected presence. His shapely arms are folded across his chest as he turns to face you, and much to his chagrin, there is a daring unabashedness and amusement dancing in your bewitching eyes. The silence is terse before you tentatively offer a frigid icicle, colored by both natural and artificial means and it is then that he notices the deep vermilion shade tinting your lips and the icicle that is partially consumed.
“I brought you a popsicle,” A smile tugs at your lips as he bobs his head and gingerly takes the wooden, creamy stick in his gloved hand.
You turn on your heel and he is left the privacy to justify his flusteredness, an erubescent hue blossoming across his milky skin. He is partially turned and pulling his shirt over the top of his head before you peek into the doorway with a teasing smile.
“Oh, and Izumi?”
He is almost afraid to turn at the devious tone underlying your voice but after a moment’s debate, he meets your eyes, almost regretting the decision when he spots the mischievous glint in your eyes.
With a lavish wink and a simper, you state simply, “You should take your shirt off more often.”
~Hitomi-kohai