ᴛᴜᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ- ˢᵃⁿᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʲⁱʳᵒ

𝘛- ᵐᵉᵃᵈᵒʷˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱⁿᵈˢ

Sᴏ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴋɪssᴇs, sᴏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ
~ Aᴛᴛɪᴄᴜs

(Y/n) tried to find a solution.

She tried to simply brush aside the sudden request.

Coming home late at night, dizzy with the conversation running through her mind she couldn't help but believe it was just a nonsensical plea.

Somehow in this situation, she felt a sting in her veins that reminded her not to neglect the blonde.

What was this impatience?

The impatience of learning the true meaning behind Chifuyu's yet it was uneasy ask about.

But most of all, her dreams- no, nightmares- that left her mind numb with a certain sense of nostalgia and paranoia.

What was she tied down to?

This suffocating binds of her thoughts leaning unintentionally towards negativity.

Why was she suddenly overcome with worry for the strange leader of Toman?

Nobody knew the answer.

Presently, all that clogged her was the handsome sight of the blond leader looming over her during their first meeting.

His soft and pale blonde hair fell in neat locks, his obsidian eyes wired with a hidden emotion as his gaze pierced hers, his ever-changing demeanour, his skin that was pale but healthy and not pasty.

The aura he held as soon as he had to be serious, his lean body wrapped in the Toman uniform.

Why did she have to think of that?

"Yo, (Y/n)."

The voice belonged to none other than Mikey.

He advanced towards her, with a casual outfit rather than the Toman outfit.

A black coat hanging off his shoulders, a plain white t-shirt sticking to his chest, and simple black jeans.

"Hey, Mikey." She smiled through her words.

She walked towards him, meeting him halfway.

"I just went to buy Dorayaki for me but bumped into you. Wanna hang out if you're free?" He asked as he juggled the packet of food in his hands.

Her eyes widened ever so slightly at his invitation but she didn't mind.

"Sure. Where are we heading at?" She queried till they stood in front of a Cb350t motorcycle.

"It's a surprise! C'mon, (Y/n)." He said as he hopped onto the bike, he patted the rear seat.

She let out a small chuckle as she did as he told, only then realising one issue. She would have to wrap her arms around his body, more particularly his chest.

She hovered her arms, awkwardly over his chest not wanting to make him uncomfortable. As in, if he had a girlfriend then it would've been inappropriate from her perspective.

He checked her scrunched expression through the small round mirrors. Brandishing a small smile on his face, he spoke up:

"(Y/n) don't worry, I don't a bite." He chuckled at the end as he loudly revved his motorcycle.

Out of impulse, she enveloped the boy in an embrace believing that he was about to ride away without her having any support whatsoever.

He chuckled cheekily under his breath when he felt her chest pressed against her back. Now some may call him a pervert, but having the honour of a beautiful girl planting her palms to his chest was absolute heaven.