twentytwo.

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~ Word Count: 3k

Yuuki's POV

My eyes fluttered open, noticing my body still wrapped in my warm comforter. I turn my body to face the outer side of my bed, not wanting to leave it just yet.

Was that all a dream? Th-that kiss? It has to be a dream.

I can feel my head stinging a little from a headache that seems to always happen whenever I wake up no matter what I do. A sigh leaves my lips, letting me still feel confused and a little disoriented from what I just woke up from.

Did Christine really take my lab report? How did my meeting go with Natsume? Ugh, why am I so confused waking up this morning? This sucks!

I flung out of bed from frustration, groaning in the process as I stumble over to my closet to grab the nearest clothes that catches my blurry eyes. I grabbed two hangers, both containing a sweater and pants, then stood in front of my mirror. My eyes stared at the pair I blindly chose in front of my body then lifted my gaze at the visible scratch lined on my right cheek.

I drop the clothing onto the ground from shock. I felt my legs lunge closer to the mirror, inspecting the dried up scratch that anyone can see from possibly a mile away. Or perhaps that's just me.

It is true.. That kiss with Tsubaki and that heated argument I had with Azusa really did happen. And that vile woman of the student body president stole my lab report that caused me to redo that challenging experiment!

Wow, what a day yesterday was for me.

I slump down on the ground, still staring at my reflection trying to process the events. My hand lightly scratching my scalp with a grimace frown.

Why did I let myself kiss him like that? Why did he kiss me like that? H-he, why me?

Then my eyes darts to my wrist that Azusa held onto really tightly last night. It seems it didn't bruise that much, but still. Why did he had to squeeze it so hard? I was so scared that I thought he might actually fracture my bone.

Note to self, never anger Azusa. Just stress him out a tab bit then run away before he might retort back to that version of himself.

But I don't want him to be that angry and stressful, it hurts me to see him like that. He looked like he needed my help.

UGH I hate my thoughts sometimes.

Why am I like this?

I lay head on the heap of scattered paper on the floor, gazing my eyes at my ceiling in an attempt to find nonexistent answers. It was like my vision morphed to an imagination blank composition sheet, filling up each stanza with questions that ran through my head like a marathon. Mainly on the subject of the twins that I adore so much.

Was Tsubaki confused with his emotions? Did he do that on purpose? But why would he do that on purpose when no one has ever loved me like that before in my entire life?

Wait- does Tsubaki love me?

The imaginary stanza that filled in the last question on Tsubaki's love stopped. I stared at it in wonder, tilting my head slowly.

Have I become delirious? This is not like me. We're talking about Tsubaki here. He's my step-brother, for crying out loud. He probably just loves me as a little sister just like I love him as my older brother.

Then the composition sheet vanished, replacing it with the memory of last night when Tsubaki stopped by my door before he left to his room. I can feel my cheeks flush at the thought of it.

Once Upon Too Many Times ~ Brothers Conflict x OCWhere stories live. Discover now