notes: uhm (y/n) isn't a stalker LMAO but i get her pov can be a bit intense ig? look, she's gay, pretentious and in love, leave her alone. also it's based on sappho's perspective, so <3
song recs °∴,*⋅✲ any raveena, beabadoobea <3
(Y/N) (L/N) would not call herself bold.
She was bold in many ways. Bold in the way in which she once bought an obsidian black BMW motorcycle for the mere sake of spiting her parents, bold in the way in which she didn't hesitate to speak her mind and bold in the way in which she wasn't ashamed to hide her love for women.
But she was not bold, eminently, when it came to her love for a very specific woman.
In her melodramatic eyes, this woman was something entirely beyond the comprehension of humans, never mind worthy of the understanding of men.
Men wouldn't have been able to regard everything delightful that this woman held.
She was a moon amongst stars, a sun blindingly bright amidst the boring blue that stretches across the sky. She was a dandelion hidden in a field of verdant green grass.
And, fuck, (Y/N) loved everything about her.
From the way she talked like the finest silk in China to the way she walked down the hallways of their school, as graceful as a swan drifting across the pristine waters of a lake.
And while most people's 'book of life' or whatever only had a few words or phrases thickened black for emphasis that serve as small spurts of bravery in their otherwise calming life, (Y/N)'s book was all in bold except for a few very specific words, said words being the times in which she was not as resolute.
(Y/N) (L/N) was not bold when it came to Kiyoko Shimizu.
Kiyoko was without a doubt the most popular person at school, attracting the attention of both boys and girls like flies. She had them falling at her feet as she passed, had them fainting and swooning at the sheer sight of her.
And (Y/N) couldn't blame them. How could she when, at the end of the day, she was the exact same.
Her heart burst when the wisps of black hair fluttered past, so dark they almost looked blue. Her breath hitched when light grey eyes, eyes that looked like a calm rainy day, flitted past her. The world seems a little less raging when her delicate voice, almost like crystal, spoke up during English literature.
It was her absolute favourite class. Not just because of the subject, although she did adore it with every fibre of her being, but because the girl she had come to admire sat right across from her.
(Y/N) loved not too many things. She loved the stars, space and anything to do with the celestial bodies that reside outside of the atmosphere, beyond her reach, and she loved Greek Mythology and Shakespeare, though said fondness originated from the names they assign to planets and moons and the stories behind their naming. Though those may not quite add up to the way she felt like she was truly on cloud nine when she watched the peaceful, yet concentrated, look that washed over Kiyoko's beautiful face when she read.
A Midsummer Night's Dream was held open against her desk today.
They shared interests.
It was more than distracting for (Y/N) to be within such close proximity of the goddess herself, but she was able to afford the lost class time. After all, it wasn't like she would be finishing the course.
The bell rang, pulling her away from her thoughts of admiration.
"Alright, class, that's it for today. Make sure you hand in your stories for the contest as you walk out the door," The teacher smiled, watching as students began to pool out of the classroom. They all dropped their papers on the polished wooden desk, chattering among themselves like birds.
(Y/N) was a little more lethargic, not exactly able to rush out into the crowded hallways like the others. She gave her teacher a lazy grin as she passed them the ink-filled paper she had spent hours on the previous night.
They raised a brow at her, "You shouldn't have to push yourself like this, (Y/N), you know that,"
She shrugged, already bored at the many people who had told her to take it easy. If she was dying, then she'd rather live her last days as she pleased. "Writing's good for me, sensei. Plus, you know I can't pass up the opportunity to whip up a greek myth," Her words were slow, eyes apathetic.
Her professor sat on the squeaky chair, taking the paper she held out to them, "Of course. I expect my best student to win," They shot her an encouraging look, but she saw the pity that was held in their eyes.
That morning in homeroom, (Y/N) had had her paper stolen by her best friends, both coincidentally part of the volleyball team that dear Kiyoko managed.
Sugawara Koushi and Sawamura Daichi. Two absolute idiots whom she loved with all her heart.
Though as they snatched the paper from her folder, she wished to punch them more than anything. She hated it when people read her work in front of her. Her brain couldn't work out the little expressions they made, so she has no idea what they were thinking. It was frustrating, not being able to just... think, make small things out.
Relief definitely filled her when Suga conjured up that kind smile that always, in any circumstance, managed to comfort her. "This is great, (Y/N)," He complimented, gesturing toward the paragraphs that looked like ants, "All of it,"
"Hey, you sure this isn't about Tsukishima? I mean, his name is the moon and everything," Daichi, always the tease, prodded.
The other boy shoved him lightly, brown chocolate eyes rolling in annoyance, "It's obviously about a girl, dumbass,"
Daichi shot up his arms, a guilty smile playing on his lips, "I know, I know. I doubt (Y/N) would be able to write a story about a boy, anyway,"
(Y/N)'s brow slowly raised, a slight hint of playfulness finding itself growing in her eyes, "You're right. You're just too simplistic for my writing,"
Suga's eyes softened, and Daichi's shoulders calmed just a little. It was a good day when she could tease back, or even when her eyes showed the slightest spark of emotion other than the exhausting dullness that usually swam around her (E/C) irises.
"So," Suga said and gave her a knowing look, "Mayhaps this be an allegory for, say, a certain black-haired goddess?"
The two knew as clear as day about (Y/N)'s crush on Shimizu. From the way she was the most emotional when she was around, it was more than obvious. Even the least enthusiastic person could appreciate a full moon, and they may even fall for it and its beauty. A person who couldn't care less about poetry might learn to love a specific poem.
The (H/T) scoffed, "It's not rocket science," She stood, taking the papers back and tucking them safely into her bag.
"You do know that if you win, it'll be published in the school newspaper," Daichi said as she began to walk away, slinging the dark leather over her shoulder as she glanced back slowly.
She paused for a second, her face as neutral as the colour white, "I know."
(Y/N) may not have been bold for Kiyoko Shimizu, but she figured it was a matter of time she made a move, no matter how hard it could be.
After all, it's easy being bold when you're dying.
----
"I'm happy to announce that the winner of the Karasuno Greek Myth contest is... (Y/N) (L/N)!"
Her waves were half-assed, eyes drooped as the crowd cheered.
She wouldn't care to admit it, but she was fairly popular. Something about the heavy eye-bags and indifferent manner made her what one would say.... hot.
She would be the stereotypical pretentious bad boy if he were a lesbian woman.
As she made her way up on stage, she looked quite lifeless. Not like a dying corpse or anything, but the mechanical movements of a skeleton. Skeletons do not have anything to live for, for they are already dead, so they lack the subsistence that living humans do, even when animated. (Y/N) was as good as dead.
Until, (E/C) eyes met ones like ash, tossed up with the wind.
And almost like that, she had gained life again.
Accepting the certificate with a somewhat sluggish grin, she turned to the podium with the mic, fingers tracing mahogany wood as her eyes skimmed the assembly, somehow always returning to the comfort of the grey ones, never wandering far.
She clicked her tongue, her smile growing just the tiniest bit into something that would resemble cockiness, her eyes fixed on one person's, "I'm sure all you ladies out here hope to find that this story's about you. And hey, maybe it is," Though her ears were barely bothered to work and catch it, she could've sworn she heard a squeal, "But, if it is about you, I'm more than certain that you know. Hit me up sometime, okay?" And with a wink, she began to walk off stage, almost as if not a care in the world.
Right now, though, she definitely cared for something. Never before had so many doubts swarmed her brain, and they all had to do with one person.
Had the goddess even noticed the mortal's confession of love? One could only hope.
you were the moon
bright and beautiful
whilst i was a mere star
limited to admiring you from afar