@tsumuki - Tumblr Blog

hardest to love — sakusa kiyoomi

genre: angst

warnings: insecurities, break up, alcohol usage

overview: relationships are high maintenance. respecting the needs and emotions of your partner almost impossible when your entire life is moving fast. words may leave your lips quicker than your brain has time to understand what nonsense spills from your mouth to ruin the only good constant you held dear

wordcount: ~4k

notes: “i miss you in waves and tonight i’m drowning. you left me fending for my life and it feels like you’re the only one who can bring me back to the shore alive.“ denice envall

this fic is part of my january angst event "after hours"

you come home after a long day at university; with only two semester left before the real world awaits, ready to crush you in its cruel grip. yet you look forward to the challenge, as you’re ready to tackle it together with your partner.

but for now you seek his comfort, even if he’s not the best at it—at least he tries. the door to your apartment shuts and a held back sigh leaves your lips, a desperate attempt to breathe the frustration out of your system. you close your eyes once you lean your head against the hardwood.

“welcome home” kiyoomi quietly greets from the kitchen. it causes a small smile to spread on your lips while you quickly take off your coat and shoes and hurry to the source of the voice.

he’s already preparing dinner. dressed in casual clothes of a fitted black long sleeve and sweats. his dark eyes dart over to your form, taking in your tired features before they refocus on preparing the food. “sakamushi, rice and some mochis for dessert?”

you hum in agreement while you fiddle with your fingers, causing your knuckles to crack under the light pressure.

“i told you to stop with that” he reminds you with his usual low tone, not sparing a further glance at you.

“i’m sorry…”

kiyoomi barely notices your quiet behaviour, instead he sends you off to get ready for dinner.

you try with me so many times

you're cryin' out behind the smiles

and i can see right through the lies

you check in on your appearance in one of your mirrors—it’s obvious that you’re not doing well.

yet why is he so blind to it?

the nibbling on your lower lip is a habit caused by stress, biting your lips open until little droplets of blood coat your tongue in a bitter taste.

a knock on the door tears you out of your thoughts, only to be greeted his disapproving scowl once you step out of your shared bedroom. his cool fingertips tilt your chin upwards, deep eyes gazing over your tired features. “i also told you to stop biting on your lip” kiyoomi mumbles, the disappointment painfully obvious.

you swallow thickly in an attempt to keep your tears at bay, “i-i’m sorry.”

“it’s as if you got nothing else to tell me but apologies” he sighs and lets go of your face, encasing your smaller hand in his hold to pull you towards your kitchen. “dinner is ready.”

kiyoomi steps beside you a moment after you sit in front of the table, a warm cloth in his hand that he offers you to clean your lips on.

you take it wordlessly and carefully stop the bleeding before you barely touch the food on your plate.

and what we had is dead inside

you’re acting like it’s still alive

and you still wanna make it right

i know

by now your body yearns for his touch. no, it yearns for any form of acknowledgement. once you’re done with cleaning sakusa takes one of the mugs placed on the countertop and walks over to your table, most likely to finish his own studies.

your tea stands in front of you. usually he’d carry both mugs over to the table and invite you to sit with him. your eyes roam over his figure. his messy curls and tired expression, it draws you toward him. causes your hand to carefully run through his wild hair. “omi…” you mumble, tears already filling your eyes again.

his sigh is lethargic “i need to finish this before my game on friday.”

“oh-, i-i’m-”

sakusa’s eyes shoot up the second he hears your attempt of apologizing again. it cuts you off immediately, his words before dinner ringing inside your head. you force a smile to adorn your features. “i just wanted to talk to you for a moment.”

“you had your chance over dinner,” he mumbles and returns to writing in his notebook. “maybe later…”

you barely manage a hum out of your throat as you turn on your heels and hurry out of your living room to lock yourself in your bedroom. tears run free the moment the door falls shut, wetting your cheeks as the salt begins to leave a stinging pain on your skin.

it’s only three hours later that the door opens and he steps inside your little cavern of blankets, pillows and the stuffed weasel he got you back in high school.

your face is illuminated by your nightstand lamp. it almost mockingly rubs your tear stained face and his failure into kiyoomi’s skin.

sakusa kneels in front of your side of the bed, hand brushing a few strands of hair out of your face before he plants a kiss on your forehead. with that he gets back up, turning off the lamp and walking over to his side to lie down beside you.

but i've been the hardest to love

you're tryna let me go

and i can see it, i can see it

wednesday’s start slower than any other day as you both got the morning off from uni.

but today the bed is empty when you wake up. his side long gone cold, pillow and blanket neatly placed on top of the mattress.

you force yourself out of bed, to take a shower and dress yourself. at least you attempt to look presentable with a pair of light washed jeans and a white turtleneck, hair styled back into a low bun and your usual make up highlighting your features when you hear the door closing.

you step out of the bathroom to meet kiyoomi’s sweat drenched figure coming home from a run. it’s clear as day that he’s freezing cold. “i thought wednesday’s were your rest day?” you grab a towel and reach out to try and place it over his hair, but instead he stops your advances by wrapping a hand around your wrist.

kiyoomi takes the towel out of your fingers and rubs his face off, his thanks getting drowned by the soft fabric. with that he steps out of his shoes and makes his way to the bathroom, leaving you alone for another thirty minutes as he gets ready for the day.

you stand in front of your kitchen counter, cup of coffee in hand while you try to distract yourself with your phone. checking in on your uni deadlines and any good message, anything to finally lighten your spirits—to no success. your eyes shoot up to watch him open the fridge once you notice his footsteps.

“kiyoomi” you try once more.

at least his full name has an effect on him as he closes the fridge and turns around. finally facing you with a cold tea in hand. he studies your features and his brows furrow slightly in answer. “you never call me by my full name.”

“i never had to beg so much for your attention before,” you admit in return. eyes raking over the suddenly more than interesting looking countertop.

when you at last feel his hand on the small of your back your walls begin to crumble. you lean against his chest as you finally share your troubles. “my professor told me i had no chance to get that internship… and i got more rejection mails sitting in my inbox.”

a low rumble vibrates through his chest as a hand comes up to rest on top of your head. “it always seemed too far fetched to rely on getting that internship.”

your fingers clutch into the fabric of his shirt while your head tilts lower, almost as if seeking his comfort but also trying to get away from his touch. the shaking of your shoulders is all you offer him once you try to keep your sobs down.

but it’s yet another sigh from his lips that finally has you push him away and walk out of the room—not even sparing another glance at kiyoomi.

“where are you going?” he follows your retreat, voice sounding more strained than before.

you shrug on your coat, slip into your boots and grab your bag—not one word leaving your lips as you get ready to go out.

“talk to me.”

your eyes shoot right—immediately meeting his gaze. “do you really care where i go? you should be happy that i finally give you your peace and quiet.”

“i don’t wan’t–”

“why can you only kiss me when you think i’m asleep?”

kiyoomi’s eyes widen slightly as he is lost for words for the first time in what seems like forever. he frowns shortly after and approaches your figure, “i’m just–, i got a lot on my plate with volleyball and university.”

“do you think i’m not stressed as well? am i just a loser to you? kiyoomi–” fresh tears stop your response.

i've been the hardest to love

it's hard to let me go, yeah

and i can feel it, i can feel it

once his hands come up to carefully take a hold of your shoulders you flinch in order to retreat out of his reach as you shake your head. “you’re just never here-, never for me, with me...”

if he’s not here for you, then what is he doing? he rakes his brain, trying to figure out your struggle since—as far as he can remember—he actually did nothing wrong.

he always attends his classes, always gives his all during practice and games. he goes grocery shopping—with or without you, he never forces you to tag along. he cooks more often than you do, often because his classes end early and he already got a nutrition plan, but still. he also cleans the apartment you go on dates at least twice a month despite his schedule.

the thoughts bring rage to boil over inside of him. you’re the only person to actually mess with his emotions and it sadly shows more often in negative ways than positive.

“at least i am working on my career to achieve my dreams…” it falls from his lips faster than he can think of the actual meaning of his wording. but it’s the silence after that makes it all the worse.

your eyes remain glued on the floor as your head bobs up and down slowly. the feeling inside your chest subsides from pain to almost nothing while a bitter smile spreads on your lips.

“i guess i'm not part of your dreams anymore” you quietly admit once you look up at his surprised face. “sounds like i’m just holding you back, don’t i?”

the dead smile on your usually pretty face causes kiyoomi to stand there dumbfounded, staring at you instead of interrupting you—correcting you. “maybe you should be with someone who’s not a failure then.”

“no,” he finally breaks the silence, shaking his head slightly as his dark eyes fill with pain by the mere thought of losing you. one of his hands cards through his previously styled hair—messing up his relatively new side parted look.

whenever he’d do that you’d correct him playfully, teasing him about looking like his high school self again. “i told you to stop doing that…” you repeat his usual words in an almost ironic tone a moment before you open the door and leave for the day.

i don't feel it anymore

the house i bought is not a home

together we are so alone

sakusa waited for you at dinner. table set with two pairs of chopsticks, two bowls of rice, two plates, two cups of water. but the door didn’t open that night, or the morning after.

he tried calling you, but got directed to voicemail. his messages left on read before they couldn’t get delivered anymore. at least your instagram profile showed him that you were okay, or at least alive.

it’s only when he comes home from another game that the apartment feels different. the usually stuffed entryway half empty. all your shoes and coats gone. his bag drops from his shoulder, feet carrying him to your bedroom in a hurry. only to confirm his suspicion once he opens your side of the closet.

he turns around, eyeing your bed to see every silly pillow or plushie gone as well. it’s a frenzy of ‘no no no no’ in his head as he rushes out of the bedroom to grab his phone from his gym bag and open your instagram chat. he types a mess of a question, panic fueling his mind as he begs you to tell him where you are.

until he realizes you’ll probably block him on here as well if he hits send.

can he lose that? that little insight in your life? the only option he still has to know you’re okay?

kiyoomi swallows hard before he closes the app and instead opts to call your best friend.

it’s no surprise that it’s a fruitless try.

don't regret the day we met

don't forget that time we spent

forget that we're in different beds

i know

shortly after you left him, kiyoomi started sleeping on your side of the bed. trying to desperately hold on to your scent that lingered in your bed sheets until it was time to change them.

it didn’t take him long to understand how much of a distanced asshole he was. how much he actually struggled to be what someone else deserves. not when he relives your relationship every spare minute of his day.

and even three months later he’s unable to move on. yes, he cut himself off from other people, other social interactions and started hiding his feelings. at least he manages to go through his day unbothered. being a crying mess suits atsumu better than him.

so his group of friends might know that you guys broke up, but nothing more. and nobody would dare to have him open up, to annoy the already distanced opposite hitter.

—————

right now kiyoomi is anything but cold or distant as he’s scrolling through your instagram feed at 2am on a friday night. he’s never used the app as much as he does now, since your break up. trying to keep up with you.

he never meets you on campus or walks into you on accident anymore. unlike how you two did back in high school when it felt like you were around every corner of itachiyama. it left him no other option but to ask you out shortly before graduation day.

since then he never assumed to lose you, to lay alone in what was supposed to be your haven from the world—with mere 21 years.

after seeing your post of a date you had with one of your friends; a picture of you guys stuffing your faces with crepes from another ‘social-media-worthy’-shop. he can’t help but click on the message option. well, with his slightly shaky fingers it ends up being your icon and the stories you’ve posted that day.

your little giggles send a new wave of pain to his heart as your friend recorded a comparison of your face next to the crepe. the goosebumps crawl up all over his skin as he keeps on looking at your posts. boomerangs of diverse gacha machines, clothing items and performers. you seem happy, like you do incredibly well without him.

what he doesn’t know is that your friend practically forced you to go out and post something new to your feed—to possibly attract a new lover. she deemed it was time for you to finally get over your messy relationship.

and her experiment seems successful, until your most recent updates from only thirty minutes ago. it’s the playground right next to a bar you always go to with your friends. yakiniku and sake for a fair price. the perfect place for students.

the camera is shaky as you’re seated on a swing. kiyoomi can manage to make out your legs from his memory. but your voice is the centre of attention, little mumbles about how you used to come here with your ‘omi-omi’.

when your friend finally finds you, sakusa sees the angle of the camera shifting. your figure looks up at your phone, which must now be in the hands of your friend. she giggles and sakusa deems her as drunk as you.

your friend asks you mockingly what a loser like you is up to on a swing for children.

ah, the word loser brings memories back the moment he hears it. he remembers you calling yourself a loser before you disappeared out of his life.

and it seems like you remember the exact same scene as your face falls from drunk giggles to a broken expression, starting to nibble on your lower lip before you ask her where sakusa is, you never go out without him.

well, went out.

your drunk mind seems to have struggles remembering your break up. until your best friends catches up; the one that ignored sakusa’s call all these months ago. after a few complaints from your voice in the background about wanting ‘your yoomi’ to pick you up the stories cuts.

it’s only now that he realizes his wet cheeks, blinking furiously to keep the tears from spilling out of his eyes further as his lips press into a thin line.

his heart is still stuck on your voice crying out for him, causing a inner conflict to errupt as he attempts to fight his emotions. he tries to stop himself from messing with you further, tries to let you be.

'cause i’ve been the hardest to love

you're tryna let me go, yeah

and i can see it, i can see it

i've been the hardest to love

yet his body moves on its own.

by now you should be home, right? it’s 3am as he leaves his apartment to make his way over to yours. it’s the only info he found out, thanks to your letters still being delivered to his doorstep.

the cold night bites in his face, urges him to stay home—especially at an hour like this—but for once in his life he’s not acting rational.

a shaky breath leaves his lips. it evaporates into thin air like his confidence the moment he stands in front of your door. you won’t be awake.

what is he doing here in the dead of night?

why is he knocking on your door like some creep?

he’s about to turn on his heels and make a run for his life, but the little light shining on his features has him freeze on the spot. heart pounding in his ears as his shocked eyes roam along the door to see you.

you, in all your drunk little glory.

kiyoomi’s features soften upon the memories coming to his mind about the giggly thing you usually turn into once the alcohol reaches your bloodstream.

“why do you open the door in the middle of the night!?” is the first thing actually leaving his lips—a little too harsh to be quite frank—but his voice quiets down once he realizes you’re dressed in one of his shirts. you still look as if you’re his, his love and future.

“omi…?” you mumble, slightly confused the moment your eyes get used to the dark and roam over his figure.

curse your puppy gaze, it always had sakusa turn to a silly little fanboy whenever you used it.

where did it go the last months of your relationship?

was he too blind to notice it—to notice you?

it’s second nature for him to take a step forward and cup your face, to tilt your chin up as his worried expression roams over your perfectly imperfect features that make you you.

“are you okay? i-i saw your stories…did someone try something funny with you? why were you calling my name?” his touch is gentle, almost as if you’d break if he was to use more strength.

you finally manage to shake your head with slightly furrowed brows. “am okay… just tired.”

a soft sigh leaves his lips with his eyes quickly darting up into your hallway and back down to your face, noticing your eyebags at last. “why are you even awake?”

a shrug is all you offer kiyoomi in return, teeth sucking your lower lip in the moment you lose yourself in your head.

“hey-,” he softly rips you out of your thoughts, dark eyes looking intently into yours. “what’s going on in your tipsy little mind?” his head tilts slightly, curls beautifully framing his face as a little smile decorates his lips.

it's hard to let me go

and i can feel it, i can feel it

you take a deep breath, the invitation of “come…” almost inaudible the moment you breathe it out with the air you held in your lungs and step inside your apartment. your hands clutch around his bigger one, slightly tugging at his form to have him understand what you want.

sakusa follows.

what he doesn’t expect is your use of the genkan to your advantage to wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself close against his body.

trembling fingers ghost over your waistline as he whispers “y-you remember that we broke up, right?” scared of the outcome if he were to actually remind you of your split.

it’s awfully quiet after his question.

i can't, can't believe you want me

after all the heart breaks, after all i've done

no, i can't, can't believe you trust me

kiyoomi's heart is racing against your body while his fingers take fistfuls of your shirt’s fabric before he holds you even closer.

“i miss you in waves and tonight i’m drowning” you mumble against his skin.

it’s part of a poem you posted not too long ago, the lines burned themselves into his memory the moment he saw them. sakusa bites his lower lip this time, tears filling his lash lines once more as he hides his face in your messy waves of hair.

“can’t be without you…” you admit “can’t be with you…” it’s nothing more but a whisper. your own little message written on his neck and washed away with your tears once you cuddle your body closer to the familiar scent of his perfume and unmistakable scent.

you’ve never heard sakusa kiyoomi cry before. never felt his body shake as he tries to fight the tears but now it’s all that fills your mind. his beautiful sobbing, the voice crack and the hiccuping as his throat tightens further. one hand cradles the back of your head, nuzzling his face further into your hair to drown in you instead of facing the consequences of his appearance on your doorstep.

“need you, want you, miss you” is the incoherent mess of mumbles between your own tears. “just tonight…?”

“just tonight…” his shaky voice repeats a moment before he picks you up. his foot closes your door without much care as he carries you to your bedroom. kind of guessing where exactly it’s located based on the familiar night lamp—it used to illuminate your shared bedroom in a lavender tone—coming from one room.

after all the rough days, you still call me up

'cause i've been the hardest to love

the morning greets you with a harsh light shining through your open blinds and an immediate pounding against your temples. you groan in discontent and pull your covers further above your head.

but something rustles in your kitchen.

after contemplating about ignoring a possible intruder or fighting for your safety, you get up and make your way towards your little kitchen nook. you take in the state of your couch, a blanket lying on top of it neatly folded—something you’d never do—next to a pillow from your bedroom.

your eyes dart over to the stove before your body can fully rotate. the sight forces you to hide behind the wall, pressing your eyes shut as your shaky fingers fidget with the hem of your shirt. soon the chewing of your lower lip follows suit as you push yourself off the wall and face the man.

kiyoomi is still busy with the hangover soup he prepares for you while a bowl of rice is already waiting on your table.

his figure leaves you frozen, trying to edge the memory of him preparing food for you into your head as it will all end the moment he steps outside of your apartment. until he finally notices you. his lips form into a little pout once he directs his attention toward you.

the sound of his coffee mug meeting the tabletop jolts you awake. you meet his nervous gaze, appreciating his tousled hair and soft expression.

“i-i’ll leave… you seem bet—” kiyoomi starts, fingertips nervously drumming against the counter before you interrupt him by knocking the air out of his lungs.

your arms wrap tightly around his midsection, almost squeezing his ribs beneath your grip as you hide your face in his chest, eyes shut tightly.

trying to drag the end out for as long as possible...

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @chunhua-s @lunarrintaro @hajimesh @miyams @dxddykeiji @moonlightkawa @uhkoshee

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs