#YOU COULDVE SAID I DONT RECIPROCATE SORRY MY BAD TOP G

[jadeoru]

BOKUTO EAT BRICKS AND SHIT THEM OUT CHALLENGE

DRUNK WALK HOME

prologue: rejection

masterlist

"and i sit on the curb 'cause it's the prettiest night / with no one else in sight / you know i wore this dress for you / these killer heels for you" -drunk walk home by mitski

She paces in the space behind the bar, by an overflowing dumpster and the piles of wooden crates. Her head is fuzzy and vision slightly blurred, the alcohol in her bloodstream making her feel slow and heavy. There’s a lit joint between her fingers, and she can hear the low thumping of bass pulsing through the walls.

The downing of three whiskey sours has done little to quell the budding nerves in her gut and in her chest. And she’s contemplating going back for fourth, wondering exactly how coherent she would need to be for her feelings to be taken seriously, and sincerely hoping that the answer is not at all.

She tries her best to keeps her thoughts from spiraling, to keep the words ‘failure’ and ‘rejection’ away from her conscious thoughts, abruptly and forcibly switching her train of thought every time they do. She inhales slowly, and tells herself that tonight, things will change, that one success will lead to others, and she won’t be the one shrouded in disappointment anymore.

And she’s grateful when she’s jerked from these thoughts by the excited exclamation of her name and a wind-knocking force that lifts her off the ground and spins her. She shrieks, briefly, as Bokuto laughs in her ear, holding her against his chest, keeping her arms pinned down to her side.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks as he eventually places her feet back down on the ground. “It’s no fun without you in there!”

Bokuto smiles, looking down at her, bright and wide, and it makes her smile. It’s hard not to smile around Bokuto, the energy he has is infectious. Persistently positive and unexpectedly wise. It fills her to the brim with something sweeping and sweet. “Just need a break,” she tells him, lifting her joint to her lips and inhaling briefly. She turns her head to exhale.

“Well, I’ll hang out here with you till you’re done,” he tells her, grin unrelenting.

And it’s a reassurance to her. The way he looks at her, bright shining eyes and warmth radiating, it makes her feel stupid for doubting him. Because she doesn’t see him look at any of his other friends like that. Because the way he talks to her, it’s different. She feels her smile grow, and her cheeks feel sore. It’s different, she tells herself.

“That’s good, actually, because I have something to tell you.”

Bokuto raises an eyebrow. “Something good I hope?”

She nods. “Yeah, I’d hope so.” She takes a moment to inhale, to try and steady her breath. “Bo, I’m in love with you. Like, in love with you.”

His smile falters. For a second. She notices it immediately, and her heart falls to her stomach. “In love? With me?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

And all confidence she had is siphoned out of her, drained and puddled on the floor around her. Her tongue dries, and she suddenly loses the ability to make eye contact. Her gaze is on her shoes when she says, “How-how do you feel? About me?”

The alcohol in her blood suddenly makes her dizzy. “I do love you,” Bokuto leads, “but I think I just love you like a friend. I don’t think it’s the same.”

His voice is different. It doesn’t sound like his. It’s all she can do to nod and blink the tears away. “Yeah,” she says, strained. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

Bokuto reaches a hand towards her. She steps away from it, and he drops it back to his side. “Thank you for telling me.”

She laughs. Quickly and bitterly. Her vision blurs worse. She can’t see anything except the pavement beneath her feet. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Do you, do you wanna go back in with me?”

“Nah, I’ll stay out here for a minute. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.”

Bokuto leaves her out there alone. She hears the door close behind him, metal creaking, and there are no reasons left to hold back her tears now. She drops the half-smoked joint and stomps out, before she starts on her long, drunk walk home.

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