Your Voice - Timeskip Kenma x Reader

Chapter 2

Kenma had no trouble getting to sleep. The sounds of your giggle, the way you thanked one of your viewers, it was all ingrained in Kenma's head as he slept. Everything that had happened replayed in his head, in small amounts, reminding him throughout the night.

What did you look like? You didn't use a camera to record your facial reactions, so your voice was the only thing memorable. Where did you come from? Those were the questions that rang in his head when he was stumbling to get to his bed. There was so much of you that he wanted to find out. He wanted to see your eye colour, see your smile, hear your laugh again and again. It was as if he was intoxicated with your voice.

There was still no reason for him to dream about you. The two of you hadn't even met. It was all the work that his sleepy mind did, his finger unknowingly tapping on the mouse button.

His eyes were forced open from the sunlight the poured in from the window, his feet shuffling from under the blanket, soles finding the floor. It took him a while to get out of bed, his head desperately wanting to stay where he was.

He knew it would be either late in the morning or early in the afternoon. He sat up slowly, not wanting to make himself dizzy. What time did he even go to sleep last night? His eyes caught a glimpse of the time: nearly twenty-five-to-two. This was just one of the perks, on downsides, to his gaming addiction.

He was always so focused on his games. The plots, the characters, getting a good score. This was the first time he was taken aback by another gamer.

That sweet laugh of yours, it had wormed its way deep inside his head. How was he going to get rid of something when he wanted to hear more of it?

He was going to watch you play again, but only after he got something to eat and drink. Volleyball had taken up so much of his energy that it was now wasted on his gaming.

His hands held onto his breakfast as he took it back to his gaming set up: a hot cup of coffee and a slice of toast that he had buttered a little too well.

His hand became sticky as the butter from the toast rank down his fingers. He turns his computer on and waits for it to start up. A little bit of anticipation ran through him as he sat there watching the screen.

He quickly got rid of the butter on his fingers, then took a bite of his toast. Your username wasn't something he thought to remember, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to give up that easily.

Luckily, your account was the last page he was on. A feeling o relief hit him as he browsed your page. You had only a few hundred followers like he saw last night. There were no links to any social media pages, meaning that he wouldn't be able to see your face.

He sighs as he leans back on his chair, taking another bite out of his toast. His headphones were already on his head again, his free hand on the mouse, clicking on the last stream you did.

There was nothing that recorded your face. Only the microphone picked up your voice as you talked to the few people that had watched you.

No attention was paid to those who were saying stuff in the chat. Thanks would be given out to the people who would say nice things, complimenting your gameplay.

Kenma watched the stream for a while, more enveloped with your voice and gameplay than anything else.

It was the shooter game you were playing last night. The comment that you were a good player already rung in his ears again.

You were stealthy, only moving around when you needed to, desperately avoiding the others as your character ran all over the map. Kenma could tell that you had a good level of concentration. Your movements were careful, only using the weapon when you needed to.

It's not that it wasn't fun watching you. It was just that Kenma was more interested in the sound of your voice.

You were mostly silent, only speaking up when a compliment was thrown your way. You must've been someone shy or quiet.

Such a sweet-sounding voice and it belong to someone who Kenma assumed was shy.

Minutes went by. Only short sentences would come out of your mouth.

"Well, guys, it's been fun. I'll play again sometime next week," were the last words you said before the stream ended.

Every week you had been doing this. It was less than the amount of time that Kenma would stream for. But next time, he would be ready to say something to you in the following stream of yours.