This is the opposite of a majority of the kisses you shared lately his are more abrupt and sometimes yours are aggressive when you have a moment’s peace. Soft sighs and with a little courage, you walk forward, his limbs a tangled mess keeping you steady against him. He lets you lead this tender moment until he wants to return this act to you. The stove burner may be off, but the overhead light is on low. You’re kissing in a pianoforte manner, one he didn’t know you could entrance himself within the dimly lit room. You push yourself off the counter with your right hand and instead of resting it on your side, your fingers warp the fabric underneath. He’s handsomely childlike in your hands, you think, features filled with adoration, his breathing is a bit off, so you ignite his system into overdrive. The mug in your right hand is placed in the sink behind you with a slight clink!, your left comes up to his cheek, which rests easily in your palm.
Perhaps today is a bad day to stop by and drop the study materials, but here you are. The coaches sit or stand on one side of the court with a whiteboard displaying each team’s weakness, while the sponsors talk with the managers who swap notes. The noise of shouts and bouncing volleyballs makes you think of your favorite horror movies or carnival mazes. Your parents were off on some prospective business across the South China Sea and your uncle graciously agreed to ‘babysit,’ even if you are more than capable of handling yourself. Karasuno, the other team whom you’re more than acquainted with, was the powerhouse school your uncle had wanted to attend. One you knew to be Fukurodani because the chatter amongst the girls in your class this week was two schools from Tokyo were driving to practice with and against the so-called Grand King. There’s even a third and a fourth school. On the other side of the net, you see a team in red, white, and black. You round the corner and sneak a peek at your school’s volleyball team. Apparently, this practice before the final(?) matches of the inter-high prelims is a bit more intense. You are volun-told into doing it since your marks thus far had improved overall (most classmates envy your mind to retain information presented once or even twice to you), your average exam score is no higher than a 95/100.īy the time your ten minute walk across campus, you hear various voices of people you recognize and a few more you don’t.
A teacher asks for a student volunteer to take extra notes for exam week in order to ensure the athletic teams don’t fall too far behind academically. There is a match, or so you heard, against their rivals.
Your school is a formidable castle and instead of a joust, there is a net strewn up. You are not shy when coming face to face with him again especially in high school this time, they call him prince. You weren’t a botanist, but you were entranced by his honeyed words. Always going on about something called talent and making things bloom. It isn’t everyday you follow the same person who was essentially fawned over for more than just his athletic agility.
Judging by the way time moves in your mind, you think back to when you first spot an old friend from your shared middle school years. If you were to give into selfish ways, you would have done so ages ago.
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