unwanted demons | iwaoi

Chapter 14

it was Monday.
The end of the short holiday and the start of the volleyball trip.

If it wasn't for Oikawa's pacing he would've made it to the bus in time. However it seemed that he'd also forgotten there was even a trip in the first place. He received a text from Kindaichi

'We're leaving in 30 minutes, where are you?'

Well that was when the brunette rushed and flurry of panic to pack everything he needed in a suitcase before rushing to the school. By the time he got there not only was he out of breath but he was also in-fact scolded by the coach for making them wait

"Sorry Coach! My alarm didn't go off" he made up the best excuse he could but he was simply waved off and told to get on the bus
The air seemed to become very stuffy from there. As he looked around the bus he noticed only one seat was left; it was the seat right next to Iwaizumi.

Not having any other choice he forced himself to move, not daring to make eye contact as he took his seat and put his suitcase in the storage cupboard above them.

A heavy silence settled over them, thicker then the uneasy tension in the atmosphere. Unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching other glances, specifically the ones from Makki and Matsu, they could tell something was wrong as oikawa had failed to call him 'iwa-chan' in the past 5o seconds.

They both shifted uncomfortably in their seat and others grasped their sweaty, nervous hands behind their phones.

Oikawa awkwardly took out his ipod and headphones, he didn't have a problem with untangling the wires as he had AirPods.

There were times it feels as if the music was teaching Oikawa's brain how to flow, how to be so peaceful. It is an invitation for slowness, the ever patient(not so patient 👀)version of him who waits to be spoken to, and is content to do so.(not)

The music was at times his external heartbeat and the lyrics spoke to him in more ways than one; He would find himself singing in his bedroom, sometimes even humming the tune to the song that was currently stuck in his head as he walked the school hallways.

Yet all of it came back to Iwaizumi
Back when Iwaizumi and him would share their tastes in music whilst they hung out in the playground as kids.

right there when in that momentary exchange of glances, when their eyes met and they smiled. Iwaizumi would always tell him his voice was amazing and it was for that matter, Tooru Just never believed him.

Love is music without volume...sometimes you just need the right person to come along to make that music louder, or maybe block it out?
All Oikawa knew was that he was going to be stuck like this for a 5hr road trip to the beach.

The things is that oikawa had been so lost in constructing scenarios for the evening ahead that He was surprised to hear the driving saying they were now only an hour away.
Guess time does fly

Neither of the pair even made an effort to talk to each other, god they could practically feel the tension in the air. The way they were trapped in a metaphorical bubble. No one could enter it and no one could leave, yet it would be so easy to just...pop
It was as if a single word, a single wrong movement could pull the whole world to a standstill.
So they didn't dare break that bubble, they stayed silent until they made it to the hotel.

However for Iwaizumi this was much more difficult for him. He wanted to ask so many questions, did oikawa really say that he wanted to kiss him? Did he mean it?

He hoped both of these were answered by a 'yes'

But he knew not to get his hopes up.
For Iwaizumi the silence between them was
Torturous, he didn't mind if he was called 'Iwa-Chan' or if he made another of his stupid faces; he just wanted to hear the brunettes voice once more.

But he couldn't, and he knew that...now wasn't the right time.

Not long later they arrived at the hotel, right next to the beach, around the facility was an abundance of shops and tourism attractions.
It wasn't too late when they arrived so everyone dropped off their bags and head down to the beach(of course changing into their bathing costumes first).

The cool water lapped at their feet, Even though the sun was beating on their backs, beaming in the whole teams eyes, even oikawa couldn't help but smile as the wind caresses his face.

Waves ahead roar and roll down, crashing onto the shore with a soft hiss; peeling away at the deep bronze sand beneath Iwaizumis feet. Without hesitation, He plunged into the blue-green water.
chill surged through him, but a small wave washed it away.
The beach stretched out alongside the water, constant friends chattering and talking about various Topics, from boyfriends to the dog they were currently walking.

Iwaizumi thought back to the last time him and oikawa went to a beach, when they were kids.

The boy laid in the sand like he's sleeping. Iwaizumi had watched him do this over and over. He would wait, cobra-like, until Iwaizumi gets right up close to his face. Then he jumps up, scattering the yellow grains with arms that fling wide, hands like starfish in the summer sun. Then he roars without shame, not the timid little expulsion of an adult playing "lets pretend," but the no-holes-barred lung-emptying of a prehistoric warrior. Then he stands there, his tousled brown locks falls back down into his eyes and all He could see is a white gap-toothed grin.

He remembered that day as if it was yesterday as he sat down along the shore, keeping a glance in Oikawa's direction a fair amount of feet away.

I should confront him...

The teen fought with his anxiety until he pulled up the courage to start walking towards the other. Wanting to talk to him and sort everything out, wanting to hear his voice.
"Hey Toor-"

"We're going back to the hotel!" The coach called to everyone.

Guess I'll talk to him later then...

The coach counted everyone before making them walk back to the hotel, tailing behind them so none of them got lost.

The hotel had a beach hut feel right from the lobby. If anything it works a little too well - the staff looking like they're on vacation too. From behind the low reception desk, a huge chunk of driftwood covered in sea shells, sits a man slumped in a deck chair. His straw hat is tilted to obscure his face as he dozes, hands over his stomach, knitted together by interlocked fingers.

The phone rings, jolting him from his slumber. At first he has wild eyes, alarmed by the telephone. Then he picks up the phone only to set it back on the receiver unanswered.
He was most definitely the manager. Behind the brunette could be heard the meme gods snickering.

A/n
This one is a little longer so I hope you guys enjoy it!
Votes and comments are appreciated ^^