She can still feel the ghost of your fingers brushing against the edge of her jaw, can still feel your lips as they whispered sweet words into hers. You had told her, so close that she could feel your breath fan across her face, "No one makes me feel like you do."
Kiyoko remembers thinking in that moment, with your hand rooted in her hair, that this was it. That after wanting you for so long, she finally had you. That after all the late nights she stayed up thinking about you and the moments she stared after you for just a second too long and all the times she whispered your name to herself just to hear it, you were finally in her arms, finally hers.
She thought that was it. She thought you were it.
And now, she's here. At this bar just because you said you would be here. Dressed up because she knew you would see her. Wearing a pretty pink lip gloss because she wanted to see it smeared across your mouth. She is here, and she is staring at you, and you are staring at Kuroo.
Kuroo.
He has an arm around you like he owns you. His nose is pressed into the side of your face and he keeps leaving wet, sloppy kisses on your cheek like he's some kind of poorly trained dog. And you're there, giggling, smiling, leaning into his touch when you should find it repulsive.
Yeah, Kiyoko hates you. She hates Kuroo, too. She hates everyone here.
Kiyoko stares at the two of you like you're the scene of a murder, mouth agape in horror, eyes unblinking. She stares like she can't force herself to look away. Even though it makes her sick to see it. Even though it makes every breath she takes feel wood is splintering in her chest. She can't look away.
She keeps asking herself why, but she knows why. Kuroo is simple. She is complicated. Kuroo speaks of you loudly. She speaks of you in whispers. Kuroo can slobber all over you and mark you like you're his territory and do it so everyone can see it. Kiyoko would hold your hand under the table and hope that no one would notice.
Her thoughts make her tongue taste bitter. Kiyoko stands there and she wonders why you even bothered. She wonders why you kissed her and why you told her you could see the world in her eyes and why you made her feel like this if you were just going to turn around and be with Kuroo.
Fucking Kuroo.
He raises a finger to the bottom of your chin, lifts it up, and kisses you. You kiss him back. Kiyoko thinks it would be less painful if she got shot.
You don't even see her. You don't raise your head to look in her direction. You don't look across the bar and lock eyes with her. Kiyoko stands there, and all you see is Kuroo. She can't see anyone but you, and you can't see anyone but him.
Kiyoko leaves the bar, unsure if she had been standing there for a minute or an hour. She leaves the bar and she chokes back a sob and she thinks to herself, she'll never speak to you again. She'll never have anything to do with you again.
wyr if you're reading this and i suspect that you might be....i am apologizing
i feel like being in friendships is so like people are not willing to put the work in and have set a precedent of letting friendships wither away and my friend is trying to end our relationship of 2.5 years after ignoring me out of nowhere for three fuckibg weeks. and i’ve been texting her like where are u are u good is everything ok but no she tells me like i broke my promises. WHAT PROMISES???? the stupid shit i be saying. but yk what. i should not be saying stupid shit and so i apologized. i told her what i did was insensitive and careless. and that im sorry and that all i can do is be sorry and promise to work on it and be better. if she wants to be my friend ill be overjoyed but if not. i wish her the best. i just. blegh. i feel like i can’t control others i can only control myself and I gave up something meaningful to me for it. i didn’t tell her that either bc i don’t want it to be performative. i just idk im feeling shitty (as i should i deserve to feel bad after making her feel bad) but i hope that she cares enough abt me to keep me around. like i hope she forgives me :( that’s all i can do.
update: we aren’t friends anymore. i still grieve that friendship but i cant focus on the past endlessly and i try and focus on doing better for the friends who stick around.
₊·͟͟͞͞➳❥ i made an uquiz where i sent you on a blind date with a haikyuu character and if you're reading this you're obliged to take it and share your result!! also rate my matchmaking service 5/5 ✭ and tell your grandma about it please thank you
“you’re a mess. your emotions threaten to spill out of you at any given time, making you feel too much, too heavy, too intense. it’s what you tell yourself, what you heard your whole life, but Kita doesn’t think so. Kita sees you in all your glory, sees someone who feels a lot and isn’t afraid of showing it. he admires you and your heart on your sleeve. you could never be too much to him, he doesn’t mind the mess. he loves you just as you are. ✭✭✭ who set up your blind date: Aran // what does he bring: a potted plant because flowers wither away too fast // where are you going: museum but he only has eyes for you // do you kiss: yes, short but sweet when saying goodbye // do you meet again: yes!”
in a warm bed in heart patterned sheets I paid full price for, next to a cat who purrs just being by my side. he has his own special blanket with a kitty cat pattern, dusted with his black and white love notes. my bills are paid, my mother looks forward to seeing my face, and the job I like is putting more into my paychecks. People read the things I write, my ideas resonate with a few. I still want to die in my sleep
ANON SAID: omg like college situationship w iwaizumi pls i beg i love the way u write
CONTENTS: iwaizumi x reader, slight matsukawa x reader, love triangle (ish), angst, situationship, college au, drinking, y/n has a praise kink, party, kind of unhappy ending, mdni
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
A/N: okay i got kind of carried away. thinking about making a part two?
You knew what you were getting into when you started this thing with him. You knew what it meant.
Iwaizumi sits up in your bed and pulls his shirt over his head. You watch as the muscles in his back contract and flex before the white fabric falls over them. When Iwaizumi stands to puck his jeans up off the floor, he doesn't turn to face you. "Do you have to go so soon?" you ask, the heel of your palm pressed into your cheek, muffling you words.
His answer is the same as it always is. You're not expecting anything different, but you ask anyways, because you just can't help yourself, when it comes to him.
Iwaizumi buttons his jeans. "Yeah, I can't stay," he says, and he doesn't offer an explanation as to why. When he finally turns to face you, there's no regret lingering on his expression. No unspoken desire or anguish or longing. He looks as he always does: indifferent.
You nod, like you understand, but you don't. "Okay," you say, voice tight.
And then he does something that makes you feel sick. He leans over the edge of the bed, places a gentle hand on the top of your shoulder, and he presses his lips against the center of your forehead. "See you later," Iwaizumi says.
He disappears then, leaving you alone to stare after him.
It's always been like this with Iwaizumi, ever since you met him a year before. You saw him for the first time standing with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face while his friends did something stupid at a stupid party with stupid people. And it occurred to you then, when you eyed the muscles in his arms and the slight frown twitching at his lips, that you would do anything for his approval. You wanted to hear praise spilling from his lips. You wanted to hear him tell you what a good girl you were.
Maybe it was a mistake to sleep with him the first night you met him. Maybe you should have been more coy, less obvious with your desire. Because it seems that Iwaizumi has always known, from that very first night, that you would let him do whatever he wanted with you.
He doesn't treat you terribly. Iwaizumi has never been anything but clear about what you are to him. It's just that when he says things to you like, "I'm just not looking for a relationship right now," you hear other, unspoken things. Like maybe, that's just for right now, and maybe, if you give him enough time, things can change. Like maybe, for you, one day, he will be ready.
So you keep letting him into your bed, giving him whatever he wants in hopes that he might tell you how good of a job you're doing, that he might just tell you how much he wants you, and you tell yourself that's enough, for now.
Your eyes linger in the space Iwaizumi just occupied. Your room always feels different after he's been in it. More charged. The air feels heavier. You inhale it deeply, wanting to fill your lungs with what remains of him. Eventually, you will have to get out of bed. Your day is slated with lectures and tutoring and assignments. There's no time to just sit there, and feel the way you do.
Things can't always be about Iwaizumi all the time.
Kiyoko eats her lunch diligently, like it's a job. You pick at yours, dissatisfied with the dining hall meal that you picked out for yourself. Food doesn't feel right on your tongue on days like today.
Kiyoko notices. She watches as you drag your fork over a steaming pile of potatoes. "You should really eat, you know," she says. "Your head doesn't work right when you don't eat enough."
Your response is a lazy hum. Your eyes are trained at the door, waiting for them to open and for Iwaizumi to walk through them. It's pathetic, but you do have a habit of planning your lunches around what little you know about his schedule. More often than not, it doesn't work out. And even when it does, nothing happens. Iwaizumi just sits and eats with his friends while you stare and imagine what it would be like to sit next to him, his arm thrown around your shoulder, declaring to the campus that you're his.
Kiyoko must know what you're doing. She gets lunch with you often enough to have pieced it together. She doesn't voice her disapproval, though you get the impression she wants to from her down-turned mouth and slightly furrowed brow.
She watches you watch the door. "Eat," she insists again, and to appease her, you shove a mouthful of food into your mouth, chewing slowly. Kiyoko doesn't look away. "Did he stay over again last night?" she asks.
You sigh. Longing oozes out of the noise. "Yeah, but he left first thing this morning. He kissed me on the way out, though."
Kiyoko raises an eyebrow. "Doesn't he always?"
You can't imagine Kiyoko in a situation like yours, desperate for someone who doesn't want her. Kiyoko doesn't want anything that's not good for her - not ever. You're a little jealous of her, if you're honest. You don't know how she does it.
"Not always," you answer, turning your attention back to your meal. You poke at some chicken. "Sometimes he just leaves."
She frowns. "I don't know how you do it."
You open your mouth to reply, but the dining hall doors open, and it catches your eye. You perk up like a dog hearing it's owner come home, and through the doors, Iwaizumi emerges.
All that runs through your head is how pretty he is. You can't stop yourself - Iwaizumi is handsome. Sharp edges and pretty eyes. Strong chest, strong arms, strong hands. More than you want to have sex with him, you want him to hold you in those arms. You want him to take care of you, make you feel safe. It's all you can think about.
Iwaizumi doesn't notice you, despite the way you stare, watching him scan his student ID and grab a tray. And you're so entranced by him you almost don't notice the people who trail behind him, until Matsukawa catches your eye. When Iwaizumi doesn't notice you, he does. Matsukawa gives you a soft smile, and a wave. You wave back, and feel something in your chest that's akin to disappointment.
When he turns away, you groan, flopping backwards into your seat, going limp, deflated. "Fuck, Kiyoko," you complain. "I'm hopeless."
Kiyoko reaches out to pat the top of your hand. "Yes, yes you are."
Iwaizumi knows you're there. He has a talent for that, for walking into a room and immediately knowing if you're there, whether it's a party or a crowded coffee shop or this terrible dining hall. Iwaizumi's always attuned to your presence.
Part of him feels bad for what he's doing. Part of him thinks he should stop. He almost has, many times over the last year. He's almost deleted your number and ignored your calls and skipped out on parties he knew you were going to. But he can't. Something just stops him. He pictures you, with wide, watering eyes, parting your lips to let out a faint, "please," and he can't do it. He can't force himself to let you go.
Iwaizumi doesn't know what you are to him, exactly. He hasn't really spent a lot of time trying to figure it out. He just takes you when he can, and thinks about you in all the space in-between. Oikawa calls him pussy-whipped.
You've stopped looking by the time he settles down with his lunch. He eats, and he tries his best not to look in your direction. Matsukawa nudges him. "Hey, Y/N's here."
Iwaizumi doesn't look up from his tray. "I know," he says. He always knows.
He can feel Matsukawa staring at him. "Aren't you gonna say hi or something?"
"Nope," Iwaizumi says with a quick shake of his head.
Hanamaki chuckles. "You treat her like shit, dude."
Iwaizumi doesn't say anything, because he's right. He does treat you like shit. Iwaizumi wishes there was a world where he didn't act like this, and he was able to give you whatever you needed, whatever you wanted. He locks his jaw. He doesn't know why he doesn't just do it in this one.
Oikawa gives Iwaizumi a big, phony pout. "Don't be mean to poor Iwa. Big boy feelings are hard for him."
Iwaizumi doesn't look up at Oikawa as he halfheartedly gives his arm and shove and says, "Fuck off," because out of the corner of his eye, he watches as you rise from your seat, abandoning your table and heading for your next class. He thinks it's Religion and Film.
It's only after you're gone that Iwaizumi raises his head, and stares at the empty table you occupied. There's a conversation going on around him, so he thinks no one notices. He doesn't realize until later that Matsukawa did.
────────
Iwaizumi knows what you like. He knows how to make you come undone on his fingers or on his tongue. He knows the pace you like and what spots to hit to get the most noise out of you. He knows how you like to be touched, whether it's him squeezing the flesh of your thighs with his large, calloused hands, or gently holding the back of your head as he rams his hips into yours. He knows how you like to be praised, how you clench around him when he calls you a good girl, when he tells you you're taking him so well. Iwaizumi knows it all. He knows you.
This is the third time this week Iwaizumi has found himself in your bed. He has other things he could be doing, He should be looking for a job for after he graduates. He should be studying. He should be doing anything else. But he's here, in-between your legs once again.
He leaves right after this time. You ask, "You can't stay?" like you always do.
Iwaizumi shakes his head as he pulls up his gym shorts. The truth is, he shouldn't have come in the first place, but when it comes to you, his self-control is hanging by a thread. It takes everything in him to say no. "I have to finish up some internship paperwork."
You nods, and Iwaizumi wishes you wouldn't look so dejected. He already feels like a piece of shit. "Okay," you say. Like you always do.
Iwaizumi sighs. He figures that there's a lot he could and should say, and he says none of it. He just looks at you, sitting up in your bed with a blanket pulled up to cover your chest, and feels something he probably shouldn't.
He pats the pockets of his shorts, ensuring his keys and phone are there. "Hey, Kuroo's throwing a party tomorrow. You should come."
You shift. "Am I invited?"
"Kuroo invited Oikawa, Oikawa invited me, and I'm inviting you," he says. "It's just a party. I'm sure Kuroo would be happy to see you."
It takes a moment, but you nod. "Yeah, sure, sounds fun."
Iwaizumi grins. A real one, a bright one. It makes you blush, and he feels satisfied. "Cool, see you there."
Iwaizumi leaves, and purposefully leaves his sweatshirt on your floor when he does.
You shove your hands deep into the pockets of your jeans. It's cold, and you've sacrificed warmth for the sake of your outfit. Kiyoko wraps a hand around your elbow as you walk down the street. You don't like going out without her.
"Are you okay?" Kiyoko asks, voice soft. "You've been quiet."
She's right, you have. You're in your head, overthinking. Iwaizumi doesn't normally invite you out like this. A lot of time, you just end up at the same place, because Iwaizumi is friends with Oikawa and Oikawa is friends with everyone. So you see him at a lot of parties and when you and your friends run into Oikawa, Iwaizumi is usually there. Being invited in something different.
And really, you always intended on showing up at Kuroo's, directly invited or not. You figured from the start that Iwaizumi would be there, and you'd never give up an opportunity to go home with him. But it feels different, now that he asked you to go. Something's different.
You shrug. "I dunno," you mumble and drop your head on Kiyoko's shoulder. "I guess I'm just nervous."
Kiyoko places a small kiss on the top of your head. "You have nothing to be nervous about. You've already slept with him, so the worst part is over."
You know she means it to be comforting, but it's not. It just makes you think of all the worse things that could happen. Nerves bloom in your gut. There's always so much that can go wrong with him.
Kuroo's apartment is already overflowing when you arrive. When you walk through the door, Kiyoko's hand slips down into yours, and she gives it a quick squeeze. "You okay if I go look for Tanaka?"
She's really asking, and you appreciate that about her. If you said no, Kiyoko would stay by your side all night. You smile at her. "Yeah, I'm good. I'm gonna go find Iwaizumi."
You part from each other. She heads for the living room, and you go for the kitchen. You'll find her again before the end of the night.
It's crowded, and you have to push and twist your way past throngs of people to make it to the kitchen. What you really need right now is a drink. When you finally squirm your way in there, you go straight for the vodka.
Matsukawa finds you first, while you're making yourself a drink with a very heavy hand. He calls your name, and you turn to face him. Matsukawa has this bright smile on his face that makes one grow on your own lips. He greets you with a small hug, using one arm to pull you into his side. "You came!" he exclaims.
"Yeah, here I am!" you reply. Matsukawa lets you go, but his arm lingers between you both, and when his fingers brush against your hip, you can't tell if it was an accident or not. "Just got here, like three seconds ago."
"Iwa's been looking for you all night," he says, carefully watching your expression. "He was starting to think you stood him up."
You're glad he brought up Iwaizumi first, so you didn't have to. You raise your up to your lips and quirk an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"
Matsukawa nods gravely. "I mean, I was almost hoping you did. The asshole definitely deserves it."
You raise to your toes to look past Matsukawa. "Where is he? I should probably put him out of his misery."
Matsukawa looks over your shoulder, and rolls his eyes. "As if on fucking cue," he says, tossing a hand in the air.
You're confused for a second before there's an arm going over your shoulder. Your eyes go wide, and you look to your right to see Iwaizumi there, pulling you into his side. Your face gets hot. This is new.
"Hey," Iwaizumi says into your ear, quiet, so only you can hear it. "I was starting to think you weren't going to show."
There's no world where you wouldn't show after Iwaizumi invited you. You thought he should've known this. "So I heard," you reply, still not over the tight grip he has on your shoulder. You suddenly feel the need to get drunker. "I didn't mean to make you nervous," you tell him, teeth revealed in a grin.
Iwaizumi's ears turn red. It's cute. You think it might kill you. "I'm just glad you're here now," he says.
His cheeks are red too. You wonder if he's drunk.
You notice out of the corner of your eye, that Matsukawa is awkwardly shifting, turning to leave. It feels rude not to say anything to him, but Iwaizumi has his arm around you and this big dumb smile on his face, so you figure you'll just have to be rude. You let him go.
"You look good tonight." Iwaizumi says, leaning into you, his voice rising above the music. "Did you get dressed up just for me?"
He's definitely drunk. You definitely need to be drunker. You take another sip of your drink. "I'm actually trying to impress Oikawa. Have you seen him around? I'm hoping to get the chance to bend over in front of him."
Iwaizumi hooks his arm around your neck and pulls you under his chin, face pressed against his chest. "Oh, you're so fucking funny."
You laugh as you squirm your way out of his grip. He lets you go, but his arm finds you again, thumb hooking into the belt loop of your jeans, and holding you in place by his side. It makes you almost giddy. He's never like this.
And he doesn't let you go. You both stand there, entwined. He talks to you about anything, and he listens to your stories about the professor that has it out for you and how you hate your friend's new boyfriend (and Iwaizumi swears he hates him in solidarity, too). Other people come and talk to you both before flittering off again, but you two remain standing there in the kitchen, attached by belt loop.
You refill your drink a few times, and it doesn't take very long until your head starts to feel light and your ears become hot. You figure it's only fair. Iwaizumi's clearly not sober and his drink keeps draining. You're just trying to keep up.
You're in the middle of a conversation with Akaashi when Iwaizumi unhooks his thumb from your belt loop and rests his hand on the exposed skin of your hip. You inhale sharply as his thumb starts to draw circles on your skin. His touch is so soft, but you feel it deep within your gut.
You don't think you're going to last much longer.
Iwaizumi doesn't know what he's doing. He's just drunk, and doing whatever feels good. And right now, he thinks you feel the best. It's nice to touch you. It's nice to be near you.
It just feels good. Almost too good.
It feels so good, in fact, that Iwaizumi finds himself in Kuroo's spare room, pressing you against the door while his mouth moves against your neck. You're making the prettiest little noises, and it's going straight to his dick.
"Hajime," you moan as your hand tangles in the roots of his hair, and he thinks he's going to finish in his pants.
He lets out a low groan, and pulls away from your neck to face you. One of his large hands reaches up to the side of your face. You're eyes are wide. "My pretty girl," he mumbles, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. "You sound so good for me."
Iwaizumi lowers his head again, this time leaving kisses along you chest, mouth brushing against the low cut fabric of your shirt. His hands lower to your waist, pushing and bunching up your shirt. He wants it off.
"Am I?" you ask, and it doesn't break Iwaizumi's concentration. He nips at your chest. He doesn't notice the way the tone of your voice changes. You place a hand on the top of his head and push him away from you. He stares. "Am I, Iwaizumi?"
He blinks at you. "Are you what?"
Your stare hardens. He notices. It makes him feel uneasy. "Am I your girl?"
Iwaizumi falters. He doesn't know what to say, but you're staring at him like you're expecting an answer now. He's nervous, and he suddenly doesn't feel good anymore.
He rises up and lets go of your hips. Iwaizumi takes a step back. "You know what you are to me," is the best he can offer you.
You flinch at his words. "I don't think I do, because you tell me one thing, and then you act completely different."
"How am I acting different?" Iwaizumi questions.
There's a knock on the door behind you. You ignore it. "Holding onto me all night and not leaving my side, leaving your clothes at my apartment and not asking for them back, calling me 'your girl.' It sends kind of a mixed message."
Iwaizumi swallows. He doesn't know what to say because he knows you're right. He wants you by his side, your neck covered in marks he left. He wants you wearing his sweatshirts to classes and smelling like him. He wants to be all over you. He wants other guys to think of him whenever they think of you.
But that's all he wants. The thought of calling you his girlfriend makes his skin itch. The thought of taking you out on dates, walking you to classes, being completely committed and devoted, makes him nauseous.
It's not fair to you. He thinks, standing there in front of you, that he should have called this thing off months ago, before he was in too deep.
Because now you're staring and your eyes are beginning to water and he thinks there's nothing he could possibly say to save this sinking ship.
There's another three knocks on the door. Iwaizumi thinks you might be holding your breath. "It's not like that…for me," he eventually settles on.
More knocking on the door. Someone yells, "Hey, no fucking in my apartment!"
"It's not like what, Iwaizumi?" you question, and it sounds like a challenge.
He thinks his hands might be shaking. "I don't…I don't want you the way that you want me."
Iwaizumi watches as your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths, as a tear rolls down your cheek. The knocking continues. You turn away from Iwaizumi, and rush out of the door, brushing past Kuroo as you go, who stands in the hall with a fist raised to knock again.
Kuroo stares after you, and then looks back at Iwaizumi. He puts it together pretty quickly. "I'll go get Kiyoko."
You don't know why you're crying. You knew what you were getting into with him.
It's fucking cold. You're sitting on the front steps of Kuroo's apartment, face pushed into your hands, crying. Your chest aches, you're still half-aroused from the way he touched you, and you feel too drunk to do anything useful.
You could've sworn something had changed. It was in the way he touched you, the way he looked at you. He called you his girl. His pretty girl. Thinking about it again makes you feel like you're going to vomit.
It would be smart to find Kiyoko and get the fuck out of there, but you're not feeling very smart. You're feeling drunk and stupid and like there's a growing hole ripping through your chest.
You hear a distant, "Hey," through your tears, but you don't think it's for you until there's a warm body sitting next to yours, thigh lightly pressed against yours. You don't look up. You want to keep crying.
"Iwaizumi's a dick," he says, and you recognize the voice to be Matsukawa. He places a hand on your back. "He doesn't deserve you crying over him."
You sniffle. "You're his friend. Aren't you supposed to be on his side? Bros before hoes, or whatever the fuck you say."
Matsukawa laughs. It's low and easy. "I didn't blindly pledge my allegiance to Iwaizumi. If he's acting like a dick, I'm gonna tell him he's a dick."
You raise your face from your hands and look at Matsukawa. He's got this expression on his face that makes you feel uneasy. "And did you tell him that he's a dick?"
His hand moves gently up and down your back. "Of course I did. Right to his face."
You wipe away a tear with the back of your hand. Your crying has slowed. "Thanks."
Matsukawa slides his hand from the center of your back to your shoulder, squeezing his hand as he does. It makes you feel warm. "You're too good for him. I've always thought so."
"Can we talk about something else?" you ask. You think you might cry again.
He lets go of your shoulder and drops his hands behind him. "We can talk about whatever you want. Classes, politics, bad art. We don't even have to talk about anything. We can just sit here."
That you find tempting. You miss the warmth of Matsukawa's embrace, so you drop your head on his shoulder. "We can just sit here," you say quietly.
Matsukawa hums in response, but doesn't say anything else. So you just sit there, your head on his shoulder, the hum of the party behind you, staring a the empty street in front of you.
You're not sure how much time passes, with you two just sitting there like that. It feels nice, despite the cold and the drunken nausea that's settled in your gut.
And it's strange, because you don't really know Matsukawa out of the context of him being Iwaizumi's friend. You've never really hung out. You've never really done anything together. But it's easy to sit there with him, no words between you. It's just easy.
"I'm sorry this is where you ended up spending the night," you say at one point. "I'm sure you'd rather be so drunk you're throwing up in Kuroo's plants."
"Nah," Matsukawa disagrees. "I don't do anything I don't wanna do."
His statement makes you oddly nervous. You fall back into silence again.
You're not there for much longer, though. It's only about five minutes after that when the door opens behind you, and you turn to see Kiyoko, expression wide with worry. "Oh fuck, thank god. I was looking for you everywhere."
"Sorry," you apologize, a bit sheepish. "I was just here."
Kiyoko looks at you, and then looks at Matsukawa. For some reason it makes your cheeks hot. "Do you want to go home?"
You were enjoying your quiet time out of the cold, but you know you can't sit there with him all night. You rise to your feet. "Yeah, let's go," you say, and then turn to Matsukawa, "Thanks for um, everything, I guess."
Matsukawa stands, and then he places a hand on your arm. It's an odd gesture. You don't know how to feel about it, and the slight grimace on Matsukawa's face makes you think he's equally unsure. "Always here for you," he says, and drops his hand. It's an strangely intimate statement, said in a tone that sounds like it was forced to be casual.
You give him a smile, and with Kiyoko's presence looming, you suddenly cannot wait to go home, and forget about Iwaizumi.
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