☆ In which you strike up a conversation with a pretty man while half-asleep. ☆
One does not often find oneself in a dilemma at such an ungodly hour of the night, and yet it's now something you've managed to cross off your bucket list.
You stand in the middle of the rooftop and it's as if your feet have grown roots. When you left your room in the middle of the night you came out to the roof in hopes of fresh air to aid your sleep, and perhaps for a view of the lights illuminating the unattended Tokyo.
The fresh air?
It seems to be caught in your throat.
But the view, you definitely got.
For better or for worse, you are not alone; sitting on the edge of the roof is the prettiest man you've ever seen. From where you stand rooted to the concrete, you could see a three-quarter view of his face. The moon, clearly as in awe of him as you, reaches out to caress his whole silhouette. His skin seemed to drink in the moonlight and his hair, dyed seemingly white unfolding from dark roots, was practically gossamer under the glow of the night sky. He's almost blurry, a vision of a dream through the haze of a memory. Many words flit through your mind, but the one that surfaces is 'untouchable'. And 'odd choice of dye job.'
You're not the type to blurt, or the type who's mouth runs faster than their brain can comprehend, but all rational thought is thrown to the wind as the words fall from your mouth.
"You're beautiful," you breathe.
Even with your sudden inability to inhale oxygen you do (in fact) live to regret this when the man spins around, eyes narrowed.
Your sleep deprived brain whirls. Oh my God, his eyes.
His eyes are dark and full of stars and somehow they leave you even more breathless than before. His lashline is so dark you could swear up and down it was eyeliner, each eyelash like an individual wish. Your gaze slides across his face to the beauty mark under his left eye and you realise he's not just beautiful, he's perfect.
If this were not the Borderlands, you would have asked for his number, or at the very least asked him out for coffee.
Your brain scrambles to find a fragment of this man in your memories at the Beach - there's no way you would've been able to forget such an incredible face. Surely you must have played a game with him at some point. After sifting through an assortment of names you come to the conclusion that this must be a member of the Beach's executive board; the infamous Chishiya, notorious for being cold of heart and smart of ass.
Ah.
Those speculated to be assholes do tend to be assholes, and Chishiya replies in kind.
His eyes flick up and down and with the combination of a smirk and the arch of his eyebrow, you are suddenly hyper-aware of your bedhead. "So I've been told," he replies dryly, and turns back to face the open view of Tokyo.
The silence that ensued could've brought a weaker person to tears.
Your mind is too foggy for small talk, and you can definitely tell that you're less than welcome here while Chishiya occupies the space next to you. Unable to leave but unsure of what to do next, you stand for another minute that seems to stretch on for eons. Eventually you decide to sit down next to Chishiya, because fresh air is what you came for and so fresh air you will get (or so you say).
You open your mouth to speak but then shut it again. The man next to you radiates the most "go away" energy you've ever felt, and it's not doing wonders for your self-esteem either.
"So...the Borderlands, huh?"
Your pathetic sentence hangs limp in the air and you clasp your hands, inwardly cursing yourself and all your ancestors.
Chishiya, however, looks mildly amused. He merely hums in response.
"Mm."
Alright, he doesn't want to talk to you. It's understandable, but you find yourself soldiering on for who knows what reason. In your barely conscious state, you're still grasping at straws.
"You're a Diamonds player, I'm guessing?"
"You guessed right," he replied, still facing away from you.
Maybe he's secretly an excellent conversationalist, but he's doing an even more excellent job of concealing it from you.
Perhaps this is the one conversation you cannot master. You're about to give up and walk dejectedly back to your room when he surprises you with another reply.
"And you?" He looks at you and you realise that he's holding your gaze directly.
A gorgeous Diamond player with heavy eye contact. You almost laugh. No wonder he comes across as a horrible person - no one likes to be eyeballed so intensely when they speak. Or maybe he really is a horrible person. Either or.
"Hearts," you tell him.
Chishiya's face moves into a controlled expression that shows a kind of condescending surprise, the slight raise of both eyebrows.
"Is that so."
"Were you expecting Clubs?"
"I can't say I wasn't." The corner of his mouth tilts upwards into a smirk, and you laugh.
This is great. It's turning into a conversation.
Only it isn't, and the chat fizzles out almost immediately. To try and keep talking would be a terrible idea - your eyelids are fluttering closed and you suppress a yawn, your body signaling it's time to go back to your room.
Wordlessly, you get to your feet. Smirking, Chishiya throws you a wave, which you sleepily return. You exit through the glass doors and the decision has already been made that you will come back the next night. A beginning has been established, and now you would like to see where it leads.
I'm not great at first chapters, but if you read past the next part you'll be golden, I promise! I hope you enjoy :D