#rewriting and rewriting because i was so afraid to get iwa's character wrong

[tomasweetheart]

I'M NOT A VIOLENT DOG, I DON'T KNOW WHY I BITE.

pairing: i. hajime x gn!reader

includes: hurt/no comfort, iwa gets into a fight, blood mention, cursing, iwa and reader are friends, reader refuses to be with iwaizumi due to emotional constipation, pre-timeskip, w.c 3.0k

notes: "always an angel never a god", "i don't know why i am the way i am ; not strong enough to be your man", "i can't love you how you want me too", yeah. i'm having a fucking field day.

soundtrack: not strong enough, bite the hand

It's nearly midnight when you hear the soft raps against your front door. You cautiously open it to find a disheveled Hajime, bruised and battered with red blood trickling down his nose.

"...The other guy looks worse..." he mumbles, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck, "...I didn't know where else to go, (y/n) I'm sorry. I had a fight with my dad and Oikawa is asleep for once — "

"Haji, just..." you say, holding up your hand with a sigh, moving to the side, "...just get inside, it's cold."

He's the last face you wanna see and the last person you want to offer a semblance of comfort for right now, but even though you haven't talked in weeks, he's still your friend.

"What was it this time?" you whisper, leading him in the bathroom. He sits on the edge of the tub and watches you rummage through the cabinet to find a first aid kit.

He can't help the way his eyes trail over your body, he wants to hold you. That was his first thought, he wants to hold you, feel you pressed against him while he sobs and apologizes for every little thing he's ever done wrong by you.

But he won't.

"Some guy, said somethin' stupid to me," he mumbled, looking down at his lap where his fists lay clenched in anger, "I don't...it's not right, I know, I know it isn't (y/n). I can't help it, I get so worked up over everything and then..."

He stops mid-sentence, breathing hitching as he raises his head to look at you. His gaze is pleading, begging you to understand a part of him that he won't even show you.

You offer him a sympathetic look for a split second before your eyebrows furrow, pressing the tissue against his nose and tilting his head up higher with your other hand on his chin.

"You can help it, Haji," you muttered, pulling back to look at him, your gaze almost pitying and it makes him sick to his stomach, "I know you can. You know what your problem is? You never know what you're feeling because all your emotions stack on top of each other like a jenga tower waiting to fall."

His own brows knit together, his own expression slowly turning to frustration, "You don't know shit about how I feel," he growls, "you don't know anything."

"You're right, I don't," you quip back, hand gripping his chin tighter, "how should I? You want me to love you, but you won't show every part of yourself. You're scared and you don't trust me enough to love you past all of it."

His gaze softens once more, pulling your hand away with a gentle tug and looking down at the bathroom floor in shame.

"I know you're scared, Haji," you whispered again, voice cracking with emotion as your eyes glazed over with tears, "I can't expect you not to be, but...you don't trust me. I get it, okay? It's hard to open up right away and that's not what I expect. I just want you to find a way to sort through it yourself."

How could he open up? Hajime Iwaizumi, the hothead, Oikawa Tooru's best friend. A side character to everything who's only there for the development of the main guy. It doesn't matter how he feels, it's a burden. It's who he is, what defines him. He loses that and he loses everything...except you, but he's not sure how much he wants to trade in his reputation for you yet.

And here you are, waiting for a man who doesn't know if he wants to change. Waiting for someone who you know is so much more than anger, than the side character. Waiting and waiting for when he sees that himself, but to no avail.

When he slowly lifts his head up to meet your gaze, you expect an apology. You expect a change in heart from him, a promise to figure out how to sort through it all. You can see his own eyes are watery, ironic the way he wouldn't let you see him cry. You expect everything except what he actually confesses.

"I'm moving to California."