#its hard being this beautiful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

atsoomi · 2 years

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When you first see Sakusa, it’s at a regular coffee shop.

He stands tall, intimidatingly towering over other people as he reads the menu with a disgruntled expression. You take notice of him while you wait for your usual drink, and you can tell you’re going to think about the attractive stranger at your favorite coffee shop for weeks.

His mask conceals most of his face, but his eyes catch your attention. The striking pools of onyx scan the menu rapidly as he seems to lose patience, his frown growing more by the second.

You don’t stare at him for longer than five minutes, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to overcome the embarrassment of being caught. But the outline of his figure burns in your mind as you turn to follow the worker who’s making your drink, a Mari who you’ve befriended during the frequent visits to this shop.

You think about whether he’s just having a bad day or if he’s always like this, whether he’s going to order from here or not, whether he’s ordering for just himself or others as well— friends or a girlfriend. Or someone he just likes, no tags.

You don’t hear the sound of someone approaching you over the sound of your own thoughts; in fact, you don’t even notice his presence over your shoulder until he clears his throat.

Turning to face him, you feel caught. Your cheeks warm in embarrassment, as if he could hear all the obsessive thoughts you were having about him. He stares at you blankly, and you realize his eyes are not only nicer up close, but also sharper. Being close to him also allows you to take notice of his other features— like his moles, the curve of his eyebrows, his cupid’s bow.

He leans down to your level, still keeping a safe distance like you’re carrying an infectious disease. Must be a germaphobe, you think. Getting the hint, you turn your ear to him.

“Do they add nuts to every drink on the menu?”

His voice is pleasantly deep and the whisper-tone makes him insanely attractive to you, but he asks the question with such genuine distress that you have to suppress a giggle. You turn your head back slightly to face him with a smile.

“Yeah, they’re big on the nuts thing. If you’re not a fan, you can ask them to not add nuts to your order, that’s what I do.”

He nods, still seemingly unsure, and you reflexively continue talking.

“But the coffee is really good, trust me, it makes up for the nut craze.” He stares at you with a blank expression, “trust you?”

You pale slightly, feeling like you’ve overstepped with the friendliness. But thankfully, Mari comes up to the counter, chiming in with your drink. “Here’s your usual,” she chirps as she hands you the straw.

You smile thankfully at her and she gives you a questioning look as her eyes shift between you and the tall stranger. She smiles slyly at you and you ignore her as you grab your cup.

“Well, uh, it’s up to you really.” You turn to him one more time, “You’d be the one missing out after all.”

And then you’re out the door as fast as you can. When Mari calls you that night, she’s disappointed to say the least, but she provides you with crucial information: he ended up asking for whatever you had.

The second time you see him, it’s on the court.

You learn that the guy you crushed on in a coffee shop is actually the outside hitter for MSBY Black Jackals, Sakusa Kiyoomi. Mari, who sits next to you during the game, nearly screams when she recognizes him.

She jokes about how you could’ve asked for his autograph or became a micro celebrity by dating him if you had a single romantic bone in your body; you tell her you have plenty of romantic bones in your body but he was just too intimidating.

The teasing goes on throughout the game as you both continue to be completely oblivious to the volleyball game around you. The tickets to this game weren’t cheap, and if Mari didn’t beg you to accompany her because her cousin plays for one of the teams and bought her tickets, you would’ve never found yourself seated at the front row of a volleyball game.

Granted, it’s one of the least violent sports and it’s entertaining to watch for a while. But you just couldn’t be any less interested in adult men throwing a ball around.

This game, however, seems to be much more interesting to you. Whether that’s because Sakusa is unreasonably gorgeous on court, or because Mari makes really entertaining comments on the game, you couldn’t really be sure. But watching Sakusa play was a life altering experience, you’d think about him in those shorts for months to come.

Your eyes follow him the whole time; you take notice of all his physical assets and find yourself giggling like a schoolgirl with Mari about all the athletes’ physical builds by the end of the game. She teases you about having a favorite and you can’t find anything to say in denial.

When the game ends, you’re almost disappointed that you can’t watch Sakusa in action anymore.

Later, when you’re standing outside the huge stadium as Mari talks to her cousin, you spot Sakusa’s team celebrating their win, circulating around him like a tornado. He stands in the middle of the chaos rigidly, and his ability to not crack a single smile around such cheery people astonishes you. You smile to yourself at the thought of how practice goes for the team if this is how it was when they won.

While MSBY’s blond setter (you were too focused on Sakusa during the game to catch anybody else's name) is aggressively throwing an arm around him, speaking loudly over the others, his eyes fleetingly meet yours. Your throat constricts at the brief eye contact and you reflexively stand up straight. When his teammate has moved on from annoying him, he looks back at you, and this time, the stare lingers.

He’s so intimidating and yet so breathtaking to you— standing in the middle of his friends, he seems to stick out like a sore thumb. You wonder if there’s any emotion behind his stare, if he’s judging you or if he thinks that you’re hideous and that you coming to his game is an insult— or if he finds you pretty and intriguing the way you do him.

You wonder about his dating history and his type of woman.

Before you’re too far gone in the land of delusion, Mari is back with a wide grin and mischief written all over her face.

“You should really talk to mr.loverboy at one point. I’d like to attend a wedding once in my life.”

You laugh at her as you both walk to your car. Turns out both of you are already too far gone in the land of delusion.

The third time you see him, you’re not doing too well.

The walls of Onigiri Miya are terribly familiar to you because you find yourself in the same spot every few weeks. In your mid-twenties, you’ve discovered that one of the few things that lighten the burden of existence is food— good food, something that the gracious Osamu Miya always offers at his shop.

While the world constricts around you, the place offers you the kind of comfort that only a warm meal could. Your stomach is full even if your heart feels empty, and that makes you feel a bit better.

Your monthly breakdowns at the onigiri restaurant aren’t new to you.

What you didn’t plan for, however, is the unfamiliar voice that calls your name.

You push your head off the table with a grunt to look at the caller and you’re, once more, facing the beautiful stranger that you stumbled across in a coffee shop— Sakusa Kiyoomi.

His eyes widen slightly at your face and you suddenly feel self-conscious, you don’t particularly look your best on a night like this. Out of all the times to actually meet him. The surprise on your face must have offended him because his expression reverts to his usual frown.

He stands rigidly with his hands in the pockets of his coat. His mask is pulled down for a change and you finally see the rest of his face at a closer distance; if you weren’t in emotional shambles, you’d be much more thrilled right now.

His frown is heavy as he looks at you, almost like frowning helps him think.

But before either of you have the time to think, the blond setter from the game you went to barges in on your moment and casually swings an arm around Sakusa’s shoulder. Sakusa shoots him a deathly glare but he doesn’t waver. Must be pretty good friends, you think.

“Hey omi-kun, who’s your little friend?” he asks, eyeing you with growing interest, a crooked grin on his face.

“She’s not my friend miya, get your arm off my shoulder.” Sakusa grumbles as he attempts to shake the blond’s arm off, but it stays planted on his shoulder firmly as they begin to bicker like an old married couple. Yeah, definitely good friends, you smile to yourself despite the gloomy cloud hanging over your head.

You realize that the guy Sakusa not-so-affectionately called Miya looked similar to Osamu, and you vaguely remember Osamu mentioning a brother before— a twin to be exact. The puzzle pieces come together and you’re amazed at the way fate connects people. The restaurant you visit frequently is owned by the twin brother of Sakusa’s teammate.

How many times did you come close to meeting?

Osamu comes out of the kitchen and the bickering evolves into sibling arguments as you zone out in the corner. The familial scene with Sakusa in the middle makes you bite back a smile, who thought that something so silly could be so entertaining? And entertaining enough to distract you from the things weighing you down.

The blond twin suddenly turns to you and you instinctively flinch, realizing you’re about to become part of the conversation unwillingly.

“Are we annoying you, doll?” he asks.

You hesitantly shake your head and the blond jumps to grab a paper bag out of Osamu’s hands, “See?” Osamu gives him a blank look, “you literally pressured her.”

“Did not. Now come on Omi-kun, we’ve got places to be. Everyone must be starving.” You turn to look at Sakusa (Omi-kun, as you know him now), only just realizing that he’s standing closer to you than before.

He gives the blond a stare that you’re oblivious to, and they share a moment of silent communication. Osamu looks between them and momentarily at you, seeming to understand something you don’t.

The blond twin, whose name you still haven’t discovered , slowly smirks at you with recognition. “Oh yes, I’ll go ahead. Don’t take too long now Omi.”

Then he’s out of the door, and Osamu retires to the kitchen with a knowing smile. You wonder what secret they were sharing in front of you.

Now that it’s just you and Sakusa in a nearly empty restaurant so late at night, the realness of the situation hits you like a cold gust of wind. You slowly turn your face towards him only to find him already looking at you.

Unsurely, you smile politely at him. He doesn’t return it, but he doesn’t seem like the kind to anyways. Instead, he drags the chair across from you back and plops down in front of you. The fact that you’re sitting across from the mysterious attractive guy you saw in that coffee shop is surreal.

His face finally relaxes and you notice how much prettier he looks when he’s not frowning. In this state, you don’t find it in yourself to look away from him. The dim lights of the shop illuminate his face and he’s almost god-like with his pushy brows and sharp eyes.

He seems okay with the attention you’re giving him, and you’re not sure if it’s the midnight paranoia but you swear his cheeks go pink at one point.

You’re too engrossed in admiring his physical features to notice how he hesitates to talk.

“You’re.. are.. are you okay?” His question brings you out of your lavender haze and you don’t process the question at first.

“Am I okay?” you retort in confusion.

He nods reluctantly.

Your hand comes up to cup your cheek when you realize that they’re wet, and suddenly you realize what he’s asking about. Your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment.

“Oh yeah yeah, I’m fine. Or I will be.” That explains why he was surprised when you lifted your head.

He observes you with interest and it’s your turn to feel embarrassed at the attention.

The intimacy of the scene isn’t lost on you. You sit like old lovers who never fell out of love, admiring each other in a public place that feels like it only contains the two of you. You sit together like you’ve known each other for years. You want to salvage the intimacy of the moment but a burning question comes to the front of your mind.

“How’d you know my name?”

He blinks at you, seemingly confused by the question.

“When you got here, you called out to me.” You continue unsurely. “We’ve never spoken before, how do you know my name?”

He blinks at you again as the gears in his head turn. When he realizes that he did in fact call out your name despite never asking you about it, the tips of his ears turn red. You observe the changes in his face with a slowly growing smile; you’ve noticed something he hoped you wouldn’t.

“It was on the cup. Caught it when you were leaving.”

The cup. The cup of coffee you ordered at the coffee shop you first met at. When you ran away from him. You raise your eyebrows in amusement, how did he manage to catch that? Moreover, how did he manage to remember it for weeks when you’d barely talked.

The thought of Sakusa having an interest in you since the first meeting makes you feel like a teenager getting asked out for the first time.

You look at him across the table, observing his face and everything you’ve grown to like about it. Suddenly, you think about meeting him like this more often, about getting to see him much closer than this, about being the kind of woman he’d date, and about tracing his lips with something other than your eyes.

When you notice his eyes traveling across your face, you wonder if he possesses any similar thoughts, any burning urges to reach across and touch you and set off the reaction that's been brewing for weeks.

It's so close you can almost taste it.

You lock eyes and you slowly realize that neither of you are ready to jump straight into anything. He's as hesitant as you are, maybe even more. But, if you've got to start somewhere, you know exactly where to take him.

“Sakusa," you start, already smiling, “would you like to get coffee with me sometime?"