"Is it possible to fall in love with three boys?"
"Well ... I guess why not?"
⤷ IN WHICH
After having broken up with college fuckboy Tsukishima Kei, a young girl's friend sends her a link to a camboy stream - featuring Suna Rintarou, a boy from th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
♚ ♚ ♚
AKAASHI KEIJI WAS NOT A ROBOT. Most days, he put on a deadpan expression around other people, revealing not even a sliver of emotion, keeping his turquoise eyes blank and cool. He was polite, of course, and calm, controlled composure at all times. But there were times he showed care, real tenderness, and only to a select few. Bokuto Kotaro for example, and another case would be [Y/N] [L/N].
But he felt something more than friendship for her. Usually, Akaashi had perfect mastery over his feelings, never letting his emotions overrule his better judgement. However, he couldn't place a finger on what he felt for her, whether it crossed the line of friend and roommate. The fact that he couldn't figure it out irked him more than the feeling itself.
It distracted him too much, this feeling, always simmering below his thoughts and swirling like boiling soup. It broke through his emotionless cover, shone a true light on his feelings hiding behind the icy wall he always put up. Distracting him from his work, from his thoughts. And Akaashi did not like it.
Even now Akaashi felt it. It was a sort of magnetic pull, his eyes attracted to her unknowingly. The deep, faint longing to be with her eternally. And the fact that he couldn't saddened him more than he ever thought possible, like grasping for her behind a glass wall, able to look but unable to touch. It felt like he was drowning, a pool of thick, black, sticky substance that would hook and pull at him as if with tentacles, as he gasped, hands clawing desperately at the last shred of light.
Sometimes [Y/N] would catch him at it, though all he would reveal was a slight shimmering in his gunmetal eyes. A blank stare perpetually fixed on his face. And he reminded himself, that was all she would ever see. His cover and nothing else.
When she hung out with other guys, there was a stirring deep within him, an irritated one. He would put on his mask, a too-cold one, deadpan and never revealing anything more than a slight frown on his lips.
Her warm and cheery laughter bubbled in his mind. He missed her, more than he would ever admit. He missed the almost drunken invigoration he got from her. He missed the burst of energy, the intoxicating rush. But he would always remind himself, she wasn't his. She had her own thoughts, her own opinions. The realisation would stop his unwanted thoughts, though leaving behind a sticky, almost nauseous feeling.
Akaashi wasn't a horn dog, he respected women and allowed them to have their needs. But maybe he was ignoring his own. He was a man, as much as he hated to admit it, he had his own wants, a hunger that could never be satisfied. But no, he would remind himself. Control it. Master it.
