Random Kita drabble?
Warnings: none? This Drabble is unedited though. 😅
Genre: fluff
Desc: Kita feels oddly nervous around you. As he walks you home from school, he realizes just how much he enjoys your company.
It was late, and Kita knew he should go home. He had walked part of the way with you, solemn and wordless as you ranted about your day. Your house wasn’t far from here. And he knew you would make it there just fine on your own.
You stopped when he stopped.
The world, now deprived of the echoing footsteps that you two had been trailing for half a mile, suddenly stilled. Nature held its breath, and Kita almost felt betrayed by this sudden development in the atmosphere.
Your voice lulled him out of his thoughts.
“Kita-San, are you ‘kay?”
To him, your voice sounded sugary as always. He had never developed a sweet-tooth up until now.
His expression didn’t change much, he just turned to face you.
It was difficult for him to break it to you, but his voice came out clearer than he expected. “Yeah, I’m good. I just need to head home,” he paused, studying your expression. “Sorry, (L/N).”
All you did was nod and smile, leaving Kita’s heart beating like a stampede of horses. He released a fluttery huff, because what else was there to do? The air that escaped him earned a chuckle from you.
“Sorry for draggin’ you out here. Be safe walking home.”
Your hands adjusted your bag. Kita has already noted how small they were. But in autumn, when the wind was tinged with winter-cold, he could see the cracked divots in your knuckles. He didn’t mean to stare at them... but he did.
You had only walked away a couple feet when you spun around on your heel.
Kita cast you a puzzled look.
“Alright,” your airy laugh had heat flaring in his cheeks, “What is it?”
His gaze returned to your hands, and he knew that he was prolonging his leave.
“You should make sure to moisturize your hands. They look pretty dry.”
Afterwards he shoved own deep within his pockets. Kita’s ears, you noticed, were tinged pink.
He could no longer look at you without feeling as though he were reddening. You smiled crookedly at his behavior, and chuckled.
“‘Kay, I’ll do that. Night, Kita-San.”
“Goodnight.”
And when he turned, he felt all the warmth in his cheeks drain. Kita stared at his shoes as he walked.
That sweet-tooth of his, his odd infatuation with your voice and demeanor, was starting to get to him.
Over and over again, like a song, he replayed your voice in his head.
Kita-san.
Maybe, someday, you’d just call him Kita.
But that was wishful thinking. His pace slowed as he reached an intersection. He was crossing the street when another thought popped into his head. Maybe, if he was fortunate, he could hear your sweet, sugary voice call him that. Just like gran used to.
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