#couldn’t help sneaking in one richard siken quote :>

[yuquinzel]

— singularity.

feat. mikage reo. gn!reader. implied fwb. suggestive. i’d call this toxic. wanted to write reo in a new light. thank u user @fallenssun aka rosie for hyping me for this <3

mikage reo resents you, that much, you are aware of.

maybe hate is too strong of a word. you are afraid to use it. resent rings the right way — the perfect adjective to explain his lasting glares, the twist of his lips followed by dismissive responses whenever you strike a conversation. you catch his eyes on you often, maybe looking for more reasons to abhor you. he doesn’t seem to hide it either, whenever you flash him a smile and he only scowls at you. curse him, he wears it dashingly.

but then again, for reo to resent you so much he can not stay in the same room as you must mean you have done something to be the subject of his bitterness.

that, is where you are clueless.

despite his resentment, reo is quite gentle with you. when he needs to be, at least.

is tragedy a strong word too? your relationship with reo resembles one strikingly. a bloody-eyed tragedy dressed as a daydream in which tongue and limbs entangle and fingers run through disheveled hair, thumbs trace the bruised skin of the other. your vision is blurred and memories are hazy when blinded by euphoria. you can taste nectar on reo’s lips. as much as he resents you, he can not deny you either.

which is why you are still in his life, you conclude. you wonder if you could ever have the power to ruin him like he does with you.

nagi seems to have a strange liking in stirring up the already uncomfortable atmosphere, “think i’m gonna go, ’m too tired. ’ts such a pain seeing you both act like nervous teenagers.”

reo pays him no mind, instead finding the empty ochoko in his hand more interesting. he traces a lazy finger on its outlines, breathing a sigh of content when he pours himself more of the saké the three of you had indulged in.

it had been nagi, who invited you. he did not tell you he would be companied by reo as well. you guess reo must’ve tried convincing him otherwise. but you know you’re just flattering yourself — reo does not think of you as often as delude yourself.

“nagi, shut up. you’re the one who asked me to come. it’s rude to leave after that.” you say with blush-stained cheeks and a slurred voice. you haven’t drunk much. but you have always been a lightweight. nagi had known that, you think.

“come with me, then.” reo stirs in his spot. nagi turns to him. as the snow-haired male speaks the next dragged and slow syllables, you feel reo’s eyes boring into you. in any other occasion, you would’ve pretended to ignore him and shrink in your spot further. but maybe the alcohol has settled in your system. you feel defiant under his gaze. “reo wouldn’t mind, will you?”

it takes countable, pathetic seconds for reo to respond. you would call it hesitation — the second reo steals for an answer, but you know better. “i am going to stay back for some time. you can leave if you want.” he wears an elegant smile, eyes set on you. it is something the poets would call enchanting. a long-drawn breath leaves you. reo’s eyes haven’t left you. not yet.

you know what he’s asking. he won’t verbalise it. you know him. you feel compelled to play along with him. he knows you. you don’t really give him this power over you. he just commands it like it has always been his.

“that so?” nagi waits for your answer.

which comes in the form of a hesitant nod, “i’m staying back too, i don’t wanna go home yet.” you mirror reo’s smile. he pretends to look away and take a sip of his drink.

“ah. can’t be helped. ’m leaving then.” the subtle stretch of lips on nagi’s face and the tone of his voice is a little teasing. one you’d call mocking if you couldn’t hear the fondness behind it.

a part of you feels betrayed. that nagi has left you alone here, fully aware of your shaky relationship with reo. the more braver part of you is thrilled. you blame the alcohol. reo has never initiated a normal time together besides the unassuming “7:30” texts followed by the address of some five-star luxury hotel he must frequent a lot.

you always tell yourself it will be the last time. you always end up going again.

you wonder if this unplanned business is the same one as well. you would be disappointed if so.

the silence that encompasses the quaint tatami room is oddly comforting. there is a faint glow of honey, its origin nothing but the paper lamps hung over the walls. you think the restaurant must’ve been reo’s choice.

“i did not try to convince him to not call you, if you are wondering.” reo begins, and you feel like a part of you — hidden somewhere deep within the confines of your secrets is scanned over and vulnerably exposed. “i was the one who asked him to call you.”

“ah. i didn’t assume anything.” you lie, for reasons you can’t pinpoint. you shouldn’t be drinking more than this, it would backfire later. but it’s a good distraction from being the centre of reo’s attention. it is unnerving. you are not supposed to enjoy it this much.

as if reo can see right through you, he lets a chuckle hum in the air. “i see. that’s good. i was afraid i gave that impression.”

you know he’s doing this on person. that’s just what he does. and you don’t really feel like entertaining his amusement tonight, “you didn’t. but i wouldn’t have come if i knew you asked for me.”

your words take him aback, you hope so. reo clears his throat. “mhm. that’s why i asked nagi to do so. i have something to say.”

“and it couldn’t be over texts?” you lie again, because it is easier than admitting you wanted to see him.

“it couldn’t be over texts.” he repeats. “i had to see you.”

maybe the alcohol was too strong. reo has never been a lightweight like you. and he does not give you the luxury to discern his words further.

“do you hate me?” he mutters after a bated breath.

“i wouldn’t want to see you if i did.”

your finger goes to rest on your lips, brushing a little over the slightly chapped skin. you don’t miss the way reo’s eyes follow your ministrations. you hadn’t expected yourself to answer so quickly, or at all. but it is almost as if it was scripted. like you had hoped for him to be the one in doubts and for once, you being the one who subjects him to your cruelty.

reo lets your words simmer in his mind, a ghost of a smile lingering on his lips. some phantom words slither through his teeth and rest on his tongue, tasting bittersweet and dangerously addictive.

it has always been like this with you. you have always made him like this.

“do you think i hate you?” he asks. you hold your breath.

“resent would be the right word. you resent me.”

reo sucks in a deep breath, you see yourself behind his eyes. it seemed to you as if he was in pain. you also know you are the cause of it. it is both solemn and exhilarating. you feel bad. but you really don’t.

then he smiles at you. one you have always thought charming and fake. “would you like to go on a walk with me?”

.

.

when nights ascends the city of tokyo, bringing along a rainshower of artificial lights reflecting on the damp asphalt, dwindling the city scrapers with stars and fluttering with the scent of cheap champagne and take-out food— it’s when the city truly comes alive.

reo and you walk side by side. it is a little cold, so reo has you wrapped in his coat. it has been quiet for moments, maybe he is giving you the time to prepare yourself.

“i’m sorry.” the sudden apology hits you like a train. you could not have expected it. your face contorts into something intangible. reo sees your confusion.

“...for what?” you ask when he does not elaborate. you figure he had waited for you to question it.

“for wanting you.”

a nervous breath makes it way past your lips, and you struggle to find it again. the air is knocked out of your lungs just like that, and your heart stalls and stutters in your chest. reo sense your tension. he knows only he is capable of this. he does not say anything about it. if he expects you to question him again, then you’re afraid the conversation will end here.

but then he continues, “i’m sorry for wanting you. and i’m sorry i made it your problem.”

“what? — what are you saying, reo—”

“you have always been the only thing i’ve wanted. so desperately.” this is where reo pauses, to look at you. the contrast to his words and the twist of his lips, paired with the knit between his brows — it’s dangerously charming. “you are also the only thing i’m not good at. it makes me resent you.”

hearing the words resent and you in the same sentence in reo’s voice, directed at you — it would’ve tore you apart, it would picked at your skin until you bleed and fire smokes your lungs. but it would be peaceful. you could accept it and eventually come to terms with it. however long that takes.

but right now, it only leaves you more conflicted. if reo intends to love you, then it is a torment in itself.

“i despise finding you in everything. even when i’m not looking for you. i thought my resentment would eventually overrule everything else. but it didn’t. i only want you more than i can deny. you are on my mind more than you should be — and all that is making me realise i don’t resent you after all.”

a faint glow of strawberries is dusted on reo’s cheeks. you can feel the head radiating off him. along with the scent of his expensive luxury cologne, one he has covered you in many times before. it seems like a lie. “i just resent wanting you when i know i should not.”

seconds seem melt into infinity. you think your thoughts are no less than your words. they are spoken the moment they come to mind. when you part your lips, the december winter of tokyo manifests as the condensed air with your words. reo feels the urge to brush his thumb over your flushed cheeks. something about the moment is making you seem oddly vulnerable. “if you love me, you do not love me in a way i understand.”

your voice comes hushed. reo tenses up. then you hear his chuckle. it does not make you look at him. it does not make him look away from you.

you know you should walk away. this is not good for your heart. it makes you sick. you should walk away and never look back.

but instead,

“will you teach me?”

you feel a sick urge to smile, as wide as you can when you see reo part his lips. a broken voice, nothing more than an incoherent blurb of sound, leaves his lips.

it seems reo and you are not much different.

“teach me, how to love you that way. the kind that is so intense, it becomes greater than love and manifests as resentment. the kind you are so afraid to show. let me see it.”

there is not much distance between reo’s fingers and the heat of your skin. not when he brushes them over the outlines of your jaw, and then the corner of your lips. the very spot your own finger has traced only moments prior.

“you will leave me.” he says, pressing his thumb a little harshly on your bottom lip.

“if i had plans on leaving,” you let yourself lean into his touch. reo seems to like that, “you wouldn’t have seen me tonight.”

“i am afraid of hurting you.” reo knows his voice is weak, uncharacteristic and in contrast to his usual charm. he can’t seem to hate it though. he reminds himself you have seen more vulnerable than this.

he knows you will probably see more of him than he ever has, when your lips brush against his thumb. he aches to make it last, but then you speak again. “of course you’ll hurt me. you already have. i can’t promise i will not hurt you either. but i have stayed. love is just a compromise between hurt and adoration. you should know only you could hurt me in ways i’d adore.”

reo closes his eyes. you watch the rise and fall of his shoulders. “i wanted to see you one last time today. because i’m leaving.”

reo lets his finger rest between the crease of you brows. he smooths it over with a subtle drag. he looks like a bittersweet teenage dream. when he smiles at you like that. you should’ve been at a loss for words. you can not ask him when, or where, how far, how close — you can not ask him anything. yet you find yourself speaking anyway. maybe to fill in the silence. “do you expect me to ask you to stay?”

at this, reo has to look away. it is the first time tonight he has actively avoided your eyes. “no, but if i do — if i stay, will i see you again? will you let me? not just in hotel rooms or dinners like these, but everywhere. i want to keep seeing you.”

it is weak, his voice. he seems to be at the mercy of your reactions. it’s a little odd. your heart shouldn’t skip a beat at this.

“i will.” you don’t say, instead letting your hand rest on top of his. the one that is still caressing the side of your face. “then see me.” you don’t demand, instead clutching onto his hand a little stronger.

reo seems to understand you anyway. he has been good at that.

so he lets his lips crash with yours. there is no hesitation, it’s brimming with fervent passion. reo steals your breaths, as if he’s never had enough of it. he has always been a little selfish when it came to you — but you like him like that, he knows. which is why when he pulls back — only because he was breathless — he would look at your lips, swollen and bruised. he relishes in seeing your flushed cheeks. your parted breaths.

he tells you he loves you. in this moment. and later when you’d find yourself in his room, on his bed, covered in his sheets that smell like him. after, when you wear his shirt that hangs loosely around your shoulders. and when he drops you home, when he bends down to place a kiss on the side of your neck.

mikage reo tells you he loves you. and if you believe him, then this time you have no one to blame but yourself.

© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]

unhealthy relationship based on physical attraction, which is mistaken for love. reo does not tell you he loves you, but you simply delude yourself into believing it. so when he does say it — you’re too in love to notice it doesn’t mean anything.

that’s what i was going for i mean but yeah ok. now back to characterizing reo right and writing fluff :> thanks for reading, cya !