tell me something i don't know | oikawa tooru ✔

Side Story IV | Normality

       Tooru was a quiet sleeper.

       She was in her room. It was winter break, and she decided to go back to her house in Miyagi, apart from her apartment in Tokyo that she lived in for college. Tooru decided he would come back too.

       And he was a quiet sleeper.

      Nozomi didn't really expect him to be. Well, to be fair, she wasn't really sure what she expected from him. It's not like this was the first time they slept together—with clothes on, they always slept together with clothes on, let's clear that up—it was just that, Nozomi never really thought about it until now.

      He didn't toss and turn that much. Didn't snore much either. His hair didn't waver much from his usual hairstyle. Tooru did get a haircut before—by haircut, she meant that Tooru only trimmed his bangs a bit, and made his hair the tiniest bit shorter—but it still looked the same. He claimed that he wanted to look "more mature" and Nozomi wasn't really sure where he was going with that when he showed up with this indifferent haircut.

       There wasn't nothing "mature" about Oikawa Tooru. Let's also address that as well.

       And his indifferent haircut was just the slightest tousled each morning. Nozomi tidied his brown locks a bit, the best she could when Tooru was still stock asleep on his side, an arm linked around her waist that she didn't bother to shake off. It was bothering. Maybe she should shake it off.

         But she didn't. Turns out Tooru wasn't stock asleep, and his eyes blinked open. He scrunched his eyebrows together for a second, before lazily  taking her hand with his, the one that was folded under a pillow, and kissed the underside of her wrist.

       "What time is it?" She heard him mumble, eyes closed again in fatigue. She glanced at the clock, "Seven."

        "Too early." And he bear-hugged her tightly, her face against his hot neck. She didn't resist. It was probably the morning fatigue she felt too.

       She breathed in the scent of his neck. It smelled like remnants of aloe vera body soap—the body soap she used—but mostly, it smelled solely him. "Jet lag?"

        She felt him shrug slightly. "I'm adjusting."

        Good. She didn't like it when he lazed around in Japan daytime.

         "Did you wake up?" Nozomi decided to ask. He sighed into her hair. "A few times."

        She untangled herself from his tight lazy grasp, throwing her legs off the bed and standing up. She took her phone from the bedside table. Tooru sat up, rubbing his face. He watched her. "Do you have any homework?"

       She was glad Tooru knew her college schedule enough to ask, 'Do you have homework.' The previous times he came back from Argentina, he kept on whining and complaining about wanting to spend time with her and that she should just screw college assignments.

      She said no.

      Nozomi nodded, opening a drawer of her simple, white, blank dresser. She didn't bring all of her clothes to her apartment, so she still had spare pants and sweaters she could wear.

        "Like what?" asked Tooru, who still sat on her bed under the covers with his eyes getting more awake by the minute. Nozomi folded her clothes over her forearm, and adjusted the shorts that she wore when sleeping. "I'm writing an essay."

       "Oh. Great. Then we can go somewhere today."

        She blinked at the floor. "What do you mean?"