#D-2 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 NOV. 18

[kaiser1ns]

BOY IN LUV ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ ITOSHI SAE X FEM!READER .ᐟ you make me so angry and mad for no reason. i'm serious, but you make me into a loser who picks fights with you. why do i care so much about you? you're making a big boy act like a little kid but I'm going to flip the situation, from friends to lovers.

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Your profile picture is the same, but why does Itoshi Sae keep checking it? He sees you every day, why is it so different now? Even if he ignores you or acts cold, he can’t push you out of his mind. Five minutes until the clock strikes midnight, and for some reason, he's confused but also angry. So many questions as to why, how, and what but never a clear answer. He is getting nervous, but don’t misunderstand, he is not an easy guy. Pathetic. Who are you? Are you that great? 

yn: are you free tomorrow?

He saw your text message, but he isn’t pressing send. He suddenly froze and blinked as the phone screen went off, just like his mind, because for someone called a genius, he can’t make sense of this and the way you are shaking up his heart.

yn: sae, i know you are free~ so let’s go somewhere tomorrow night, my treat okay?

Why do you keep teasing him? Playing mind games? Two-timing? He is serious, but you make him into a loser who picks fights with you. Why does he care so much about you? You're making a big boy act like a little kid.

Sae is used to controlling things exactly as he plans. But now, he is standing in front of your door, a bunch of expensive chocolate bars in his hand, and he doesn’t even know why. Midnight has come and gone, and instead of ignoring your texts like he intended, he’s here.

Leaving you on read, hoping the silence would speak for itself. But it made it more confusing for him. The midfielder saw the way you’d tease him with emojis and little jokes, you'd nudge him to join you somewhere or try a new spot in the city. Usually, he'd find a way to brush it off, his replies short and dry, or nonexistent. But tonight? Tonight, his feet took him down familiar streets, past the corner store, until he was at the counter, holding a bar of chocolate he knew you'd like. 

He notices things about you he’d never let himself notice before—your expression, the flirting in your messages, the way you manage to be less annoying than anyone else who decides to talk to him. Say and do whatever you want, he ... he never had a problem with you. Always near him, even if he didn't want you to be.

The moment you open the door, eyes widening in surprise, he feels… something. Maybe it’s the way you look at him, surprised but pleased, or the way the midnight air feels charged between you. You glance down at the chocolate bar, one eyebrow raised, silently questioning him.

“Sae…?”

He almost rolls his eyes, but his hand extends forward. “Happy birthday,” he mumbles, almost cold. He doesn’t even know if that’s what he’s supposed to say, and what did he actually have to tell you? I don't know why you make me feel this way and do such ridiculous things, but here's the chocolate, and now please leave me alone because I don't know what to think when I'm next to you. His heart is racing, and he has no idea why he suddenly thought this was a good idea.  

Your smile makes something bubble inside him, something hot melting his icy shield. You step aside, letting him in, and as the door clicks shut behind him, he follows you into your living room. It’s decorated a little bit, but nothing fancy. A happy birthday sign, candy, and a picture of the two of you as kids that sat on the cabinet above the TV. He raised an eyebrow at the picture, it was from your birthday again, but as kids. He's got cake cream all over his nose and cheeks while the cream is on your fingers and you're giving the peace sign and smiling and he's still grumpy. Sae remembers how you kissed his cheek afterward, and it felt disgustingly nice.

“So to what can I owe your surprising visit, Mr. Prodigy?”

He’s silent and tense, but his heart races as you settle next to him on the couch, close enough that you lean your head on his shoulder as his hand drifts to rest on yours, fingers barely brushing yours, but it’s enough. He pretends not to notice how his hand starts to drift closer, how the warmth from your skin seeps into his.

"I didn’t feel like waiting till tonight," he murmurs, voice softer than usual, though his usual coldness is still held in his gaze. But his hand is another story—it’s more insistent, slowly interlacing his fingers with yours as though he’s grounding himself. "Don’t make me say it," he grumbles, eyes fixed ahead, but his thumb brushes over your knuckles in soft, deliberate circles. He pretends not to notice, but it’s clear—you got this man being impatient like a little kid. You’re both completely whipped for each other, so how about flipping the situation, from friends to lovers?

©2024 kaiser1ns nineteenth birthday party.