﹟CROSS THE LINE

18, i'm not a sore loser

now, he knows how to understand effort – but honestly, he could've done that himself. if he wanted to sit next to you, he would've made it work. and the thing is, he doesn't. he planned to take care of your bags, leave you his jacket and head first, then pretend to be asleep so you don't get to question him for anything. 

but now that you're sitting right next to him. . . well, that puts him in a fickle.

he hears you fumble with your seatbelt again, and the squeaks of your seat indicate that you stood up – to head to the restroom, most probably. in the beginning, he thought that maybe you just drank too much liquid prior to the plane ride, but this was your fourth time. and it hasn't been an hour yet.

get this, haitani rindou isn't the best at worrying or describing how he feels. he can't even show his appreciation towards his older brother without feeling embarrassed — so what more if it's for a woman? someone who verbally hates him, nonetheless? it makes him feel a little out of character.

he doesn't give a fuck about that, though. because right now, with his skin freezing due to the lack of thick clothing and you doubling back to the restroom every other minute — admitting that he's very much, in fact, worried, is the least of his concerns.

so, with a few stretches of his limbs that had fallen asleep before his brain could, he saunters on the plane aisle to follow you. everyone in the plane was minding their own business. some were watching on their phones, some had fallen asleep, and some were even eating snacks – but no, definitely not haitani rindou (only if it involves you, though).

when he reached the small hall, the rest room door was already locked. he doesn't know if you're the one who's currently occupying it, but that doesn't stop him from firmly knocking on the door.

"occupied –"

he doesn't have to second guess. that's definitely your voice, because he'd recognize it from anywhere. for a short while, relief washed over him, but that soon dissipated into thin air when your response was followed by a retching noise. rindou, who doesn't know what's currently happening behind the closed door, had panic marring his usually expressionless face.

he left another three knocks, the same firm as the early ones, but this time a little louder. "open up, it's me." 

"rindou?" he doesn't even have a moment to register that this is the first time that you had called him by his name, without anything negative by it — before the sound of your vomiting echoes in the small space once again.

was she heading back and forth here just to throw up?