There's a void Oikawa Tooru needs to fill. It is slowly consuming him, slowly taking away his humanity, until he will be nothing but skin and dust no more. He tries to fill this black hole with girls, drugs, and sex, but nothing seems to work. It ju...
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『𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞.』
He's walking down the boardwalk on his sixteenth birthday, wearing simple shorts and a shirt with a graphic design on it. Simple, yet effective. He catches stares from women and men alike. He's scrolling through his phone, listening to some music, "strawberries and cigarettes" to be exact.
It's a beautiful day, the sunset was hues of crimson, papaya, indigo, rouge, coral. He loves staring at it. The breeze was soft and warm, a perfect combination for the day. He takes a sip of his iced tea, the refreshing dose of coolness melting on his tongue.
He's awfully popular as well; you may be wondering why he's out alone. It's because when he's alone it's the only time he can think straight. He doesn't have to be surrounded by hordes of lovesick girls or boys wanting to hang out or students pestering him for tutoring. It's peaceful when he's alone.
But maybe that isn't such a good thing.
When he's alone, his thoughts tend to get the better of him.
He shakes his head clear once more and hums along to "your text."
...Hey, pretty stranger, I think you look cute. Can I have your number, I wanna know you- ♬
He's so lost he doesn't hear the car honk. "Ah, sorry sir!" he yells after.
"Be more careful, you idiot!" A boy (probably around his age) replies as he drives past. He has dark hair and blue eyes. (dam twice)
"Okay, I'm sorry!"
Tell me your secrets, tell me your fears. Nobody will notice, let's get out of here- ♬
He continues on, nodding his head to the rhythm. The lights by the side of the road slowly flicker on as the sunset starts to darken into twilight. The birds utter a quick string of melodies before it's silent, sky purple and pink and orange. He breathes in the sweet summer air.
It smells like sweet coffee, with mangoes and roses laced in the scent.
Deja vu overcomes the boy, and he almost stumbles from the impact.
Weird.
He shakes it off and continues on his day. A boy walks by, wearing a pale blue hoodie, his hair up in a spiky style. He's sipping coffee and glances up for a second at him. The spiky-haired boy gives him a look, as if he suddenly saw a long lost friend, before tripping on a rock. Coffee spills all over his shirt and he down at the spiky-haired boy in annoyance. "Crap!" He tries to dry off the brown liquid, but of course, coffee always stains. "Well? Are you going to apologize?!"
