𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 ---♡ V

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"holding hands;
led to midday confessions."

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y/n stared at her hand.

she remembered a conversation that had happened between her friends at school-- they compared hand sizes with each other.

her and fushiguro were awake together, haru had gone to bed leave then alone. and truthfully, she wanted to know what fushiguro's hands felt like.

she imagined they were soft.
almost like he knew how to take care of himself. it's what he gave her the impression of, or what she could get of him.

so she turned her head towards him. his eyes and entire focus was fixed on the television before them, the movie he picked out playing.

she wanted to hold his hand, or at least compare her own to his. she wanted to know or feel what it felt like when she watched her friends do it at school.

but she wasn't one to ask for it. she hated asking for it-- it was a bad habit of her's that often got her into trouble, or rather got her a scolding from her father.

she smiled to herself. she felt a small amount of love spread throughout her chest as she moved her eyes up towards fushiguro's face.

he was beautiful. something she found quite amazing, or rather she was mesmerized by his beauty.

"fushiguro-kun...?" she went quiet, she let her breath steadily pick up as she felt nervous. as she felt scared and afraid of asking him to hold his hand.

but she stopped breathing as he turned towards her. his scanned her entire being and then asked the exact thing she was waiting for.

"yes, l/n-san?" she felt her face slowly heat up. her ears burned as she became embarrassed by what she wanted to ask.

and it wasn't the fact that her heart seemed to be at faster as he stared at her with curious eyes, or that fact that he seemed so gentle with her. it was the fact that he seemed ready to help her with anything if she asked.

and that made her feel worse. it made her feel even more flustered than before.

she smiled and then looked down at his before she spoke.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 ♡ 𝙁𝙪𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙧𝙤Where stories live. Discover now