chapter nineteen, vulnerable

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You wiped your face with your elbow, white apron wrapped around your waist, flour splattered all over your black marbled counter, turning your head to look at Osamu, kneading the dough with both of his hands "Thanks for accepting my invite. I'm usually alone in the kitchen" you announced, a smile forming on your face.

Your mother wouldn't be home until midnight. She had a longer commute to her job since moving to Hyogo Prefecture but she didn't really mind. You were grateful you weren't alone, since your new house seemed unsettling sometimes.

"It's no problem and besides I like cooking anyways" Osamu responded, hands raising from the dough, slightly shaking the flour off of them. "You're a much better cooking partner than my last one" you laughed, remembering your experience with Kenma's mother. "Yer a much better cooking partner than 'Tsumu," Osamu claimed, raising his head and squinting his eyes, "he'd always sit on his ass, criticize my cooking and he'd call it helpin' he scoffed. "C'mon, Atsumu could be sweet sometimes" you suggested, shoulders shifting up and down, Osamu's glare coming down to look at you.

"Don't be crushin' on that idiot, Y/n. He's trouble and a pain in the ass" Osamu advised, crossing his arms together, leaning his weight on his left leg. "I'm just saying, Atsumu could be nice when he wants to be" you sighed, leaning your back on the counter. "Oh shush, that's what they all say" Osamu sighed, rolling his eyes, resting his elbows on the counter. "I barely know Atsumu, so it's not like I'm in love with him, '' you suggested. "I mean it, don't be hangin' round guys like Atsumu. They're only trouble" Osamu said, his nose scrunching as if he smelled a spoiled carton of milk. "Oh fuck, our soup is burning" Osamu exclaimed, rushing to the stove, accidentally grabbing the boiling hot pot of soup with his bare hand, forgetting that the pot was boiling hot, burning his palm, dropping the soup on the counter as he hissed in pain. "Holy shit, let me see it" you exclaimed, running towards him, Osamu's good hand gripping his wrist as he rotated his other hand, skin red and blistered, biting your tongue at the horrid sight. "It's that bad, huh?" Osamu chuckled, chewing on the insides of his cheek. "I-I have some antibiotic lotion and bandages in my bathroom, don't go anywhere" you advised, rubbing his back before you dashed up your stairs hearing Osamu yell from the distance, "it's not like I got anywhere else to go."

You slid open your bathroom's door, struggling to open the rusty cabinet that hung above the sink, grabbing the medical aids, almost dropping the antibiotic lotion and bandaging unwrapping down the stairs as you ran back to the kitchen. "T-this might sting a little" you uttered, screwing the cap off of the cream, looking up at Osamu for his response. "J-just do it" he murmured, nodding his head, his chest heaving up and down.

Osamu held his breath as he felt the stinging sensation of the cream across his palm, banging his other fist on the counter, drool coming out of his mouth as the pain ceased. "Guess I'm not fishin' on the trip with Kita' ' Osamu huffed, covering his pain with humor. "I'm so sorry, we can order some pizza if you want?" you offered, massaging his forearm. "Are ya tryin' to cover my pain with food, darlin?''Osamu scoffed, blowing a strand of hair off of his forehead, weakly pointing at you, "because if ya going try to bribe me, at least  make the pizza has extra black olives."

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Osamu struggled to transport the slice of pizza into his mouth with only his left hand, his other bandaged hand resting on his thigh, "this is harder than tryin' to get Atsumu to hand over the damn television's remote" he scoffed. "Maybe eating it would be easier if you had a fork?" you suggested, crossing your legs together, sitting on the new oversaturated indigo blue couch your mother brought because she said it'd add 'color' to the place. 

 "I'd rather throw myself off a cliff than eat pizza with a fork. '' Osamu grumbled, smashing greasy pizza into his mouth, cheese laying on his bottom lip. "Is your hand feeling better? '' You asked, leaning your body towards him, strands of your hair dangling off your face, chest innocently pressing on his forearm. "Ye-yeah, ya are pretty good at bandaging injuries" Osamu claimed, his cheeks slightly flustered, averting his eyes.

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