🌸 synopsis—the four times you noticed yuta’s love for flowers and the one time you realized it was not the flowers he was in love with
🌸 genre— in the same universe as would you be so kind? ; hanahaki!au, university!au, flower shop!au, angst, romance, fluff
🌸 pairing— art student!yuta x art student!reader
🌸 word count— approximately 7-10k
🌸 warnings — cursing; mentions of coughing, vomiting, hospital visits, death (no one dies!!)
🌸 release date — december 11th, 2020
🌸PREVIEW UNDER THE CUT🌸
Nakamoto Yuta, you noticed, was an unusual fellow. He was your senior in the art department, a fourth-year preparing for his graduation, while you were a couple of semesters behind him. Other than his small circle of friends, the foreign exchange student kept to himself, burying his handsome face in his sketchbook. You had classes together before but those were large lectures with over fifty students in the room— this was the first time you shared a small studio lab with him.
Barely interacting with him in the past, you were determined to change that no matter how intimidatingly Yuta was.
Were you intimidated by his extremely good looks or his unmatched talents in the fine arts? Both. Definitely both. He turned heads without fail and when he smiled, oh my god, you thought he was the sun. Yuta was pretty, beyond pretty even, with his striking long face, brown eyes, styled hair, and perfect body proportions.
To add on top of his “perfection,” his art style was immaculate. The artist never failed to steal your breath away with a couple of strokes and a swipe of his blessed hand. Anything he touched turned to gold. Never sharing those thoughts with him in the past, you made a firm decision to tell your senior this coming semester.
Yuta sat at the easel next to you, barely two feet away from your station. His sketchbook and drawing utensils were already splayed out on the holder. He was fiddling with his phone to pass the time, his painted nails rapidly hitting his touchscreen. How did Yuta make something so mundane as checking his phone look so ethereal? The inner most thoughts in your head cursed whatever beings lived in the beyond for not endowing you with such looks.
You gulped, gathering up the courage to talk to him. “Hey,” you greeted shyly.
Hey? That was the best you could do?
Yuta turned towards you, gaze shifting away from his phone. “Hey,” he said back with a slight curve of the lip.
“I don’t know if you remember me but we had a couple of classes together last semester,” you forced yourself to say with an awkward smile.
He grinned and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, almost like he was holding back a laugh. “Yeah, no, of course, I remember you.” Your name slips from his mouth, causing your awkward smile to turn into a genuine one. His tone is kind and his voice is low, sending shivers down your spine.
You tried your best to keep the conversation going, wanting to finally compliment him on his work but your professor entered the room and called for everyone’s attention. He handed out the syllabus to a student upfront and around the papers went, signifying the start of your first class. Yuta shot you an apologetic look, conveying that you could always continue the conversation later.
The overview of the course’s syllabus was always the boring part of the first days. Your eyes glazed over, still not fully awake from rising early, and you tried to shake the sleepiness away. Stealing a glance at Yuta, you almost laughed at how his easel was angled in a way to hide that he wasn’t paying any attention. His syllabus outline was discarded off to the side and Yuta’s hands were moving rapidly, sketching out a large tree in full bloom in a page of his notebook.
It looked like flower petals raining from the branches and a person leaning against the tree trunk, hiding underneath the shade. His sketching speed and quality amazed you— how exactly did he sketch that fast and that beautifully?
You made sure your professor wasn’t looking in your direction before nudging Yuta’s side to grab his attention. He snapped out of his drawing daze and turned to you with widened eyes. A red seeped into his ears and pale cheeks, but you missed it completely, eyes zoned in on his quick draw.
“Hm?”
“That’s really good,” you whispered.
He rubbed the back of his neck at your compliment. “It’s just a quick sketch,” Yuta tried to play it off. He was never one to take compliments so well.
You leaned over to get a closer look. Noticing you almost falling off your stool, Yuta shifted his easel slightly closer to yours. “Is that a cherry blossom tree?”
He nodded, “Yeah, they’ve been on my mind a lot.”
“Do they remind you of home?” you asked. You couldn’t imagine being an exchange student in a foreign country— you would miss home too much.
“Yeah but that’s not really the reason why I’m drawing them,” he replied. His eyes shifted to a look of pain or discomfort as if he was reminded of a scarring memory. You watched him closely to make sure he was okay. He cleared his throat before letting out a couple of concealed coughs, face digging into his shoulder.
“You alright, Nakamoto?” You were too embarrassed to call him by his first name.
“Yeah, I’m good. Just a little cough.” Yuta gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “And you can just call me Yuta, you know?”
“Right, noted,” the name felt so foreign on your tongue.
“I have cough drops in my bag if you want some,” you offered, already reaching down to grab your backpack. He quickly dismissed you, telling you it wasn’t necessary.
Continuing to watch him sketch, you admired the way Yuta fussed over the smallest details— the lining, the shading, etc. It was nothing more than a simple sketch but if it was gifted to you, it would be framed and hung for the world to see.
He really was an artistic genius.
“Cherry blossoms are my favorite flowers,” you said.
You were too absorbed in his drawing to hear him mutter, “I know.”
“You say something?”
Yuta cleared his throat again with a pained expression. His hand held his neck for a second before shaking his head. “I said, they used to be mine, too.”
Huh, you never really picked him as the flower loving type.
🌸 author’s note— no one asked for another hanahaki but i’m giving it to y’all anyways on my birthday! let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!
i just remember u left the swimple server so to shorten the discussion of what i said in there earlier, i have come to the revelation that: wybsk amity is autistic B) (it was half-intentional. some parts were put in by me to make her feel more well-rounded and detailed, but the more i started looking at adhd and autism and in general neurological posts, the more i realized how much wybsk amity ALIGNS with autism)
YEAAAAASSSSS AUTISTIC AMITY HEADCANON IS EXPANDING
