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lale-txt · 2 days ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 (𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐨 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫) ❦ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟎𝟑: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞

♫ Soko - See You in the Dark

Pull you closer just to feel you breathing, try to memorize the lines // Of your skin and your heart beating, two fragile lives collide // Wanna see you in the darkness when I close my eyes

word count: 2.2k

✰ 𝐜𝐰: brief mention of non-sexual nudity (bathing together)

⭅ back to m.list

Kuroo learned to love the rain. It reminded him of the day he met her.

Now, on this night a few months later, it is pouring again. The weather bureau urged everyone to stay home if they could to avoid getting caught in the monsoon, therefore the antique shop didn’t open its heavy wooden doors and Kuroo’s job at the delivery service called everything off for today as well. It was a blessing in disguise because it meant a rare day off for both of them around the same time. It’s not as if they’re not spending every free minute they got together, but there was something special about having a day off all responsibilities.

They didn’t get up until noon, listening to the pitter-patter of the rain and Jiji’s soft purrs at their feet (after he woke Kuroo at 5AM for a can of wet food–an unfortunate habit he established with the cat), sharing kisses and secrets in her canopy bed. It was rare for them to sleep alone these days, most of the time they did so only when one of them got sick, and even then they’d often prioritize comfort and shared warmth over not catching the other’s bug. They’ve become inseparable over time and lately Kuroo found himself struggling to remember what his life was like before her. He takes it as a good sign.

While Kuroo’s apartment was somewhat neat and tidy, paired with the struggle to fill up all the empty space and the high ceilings, hers seemed like an extension of the antique store below them. It’s lived in, an almost sacred space to be invited into. There’s bookshelves up to the ceiling, stacked with heavy and old art books and poetry in languages he doesn’t know, dried flowers in vases and hanging from the walls, a story attached to each. The wooden floor has uneven colors from ornamental carpets that barely get moved around, the sun and time working together to create unique patterns. Withered lines adorn the door frame from a time when her grandmother inhabited this space and carved a mark every time her granddaughter grew an inch or two.

It’s as if he’s discovering a new secret in every corner, like turning a page in his favorite book.

Jiji rubs against Kuroo’s legs when they’re in the kitchen together, meowing up at him till he puts him on his shoulders while he stirs the pot on the stove. The cat seems to enjoy the view from so high above and Kuroo gets to bask in her soft laughter every time she sees them like this.

“This cat is manipulating you to no end and you let him,” she huffs with a smile and looks back down at the broken fragments of a plate in front of her on the old kitchen table. Some parts of them are already glued back together, the former cracks now filled and held together by gold. Kuroo never gets tired of watching her work, of fixing things others would’ve thrown out by now. Not her though. Never her. Her hands hold all the patience of the world, tending to the shards as she pours love back into them.

Sometimes Kuroo catches himself thinking that maybe–maybe that’s exactly what she did to him, too.

The faint rumble of a thunder in the distance causes both of them to look out of the kitchen window. It is only early evening but the sky is pitch black, the storm and rain picking up and rattling against the old windows. Spooked out by the sounds of it, Jiji leaps down from Kuroo’s shoulders and retreats to the safety of his cave underneath the bed, eager to sit this one out. She seems calm though, which rubs off on Kuroo as well. He places a steaming bowl on an empty spot on the table close to her before pulling out a chair for himself, watching how she puts her work aside to pick up the spoon. She pauses as a thought crosses her mind, a small frown on her face.

“Did we remember to bring the laundry inside this time?”, she asks, already halfway up to check. Kuroo reaches for her wrist and gently pulls her back, urging her to sit. He smiles gently, his thumb brushing over her soft skin.

“Already did that earlier when you were absorbed in puzzling the pieces together,” he reassures her. The heavy laundry basket sits on the stairs connecting their apartments. Kuroo vividly remembers the last time it was pouring and they both ran outside to grab the clothes from the line in the backyard, already too late and getting soaked just as much in return. They sat an hour in his clawfoot bathtub together afterwards, trying to warm up again so they wouldn’t catch a cold. Her laughter was still ringing in his ears when she leaned back against his chest, nestled between his legs with her eyes closed as the hot water engulfed them, his hand splayed across her stomach. He remembers thinking that this might be the closest he ever got to heaven.

The storm outside picks up by the time they’re finished with dinner and the dirty dishes are left to soak in the sink for later. They find themselves huddled together in bed again. All the attempts of coaxing Jiji out from underneath it failed, but he seemed content with knowing they were closeby. He’d get his fair share of cuddles and treats once this passes.

“You still have gold dust on you,” Kuroo points out and brings one of her hands to his lips, kissing the shimmery fingertips gently.

“No way,” she protests with a small laugh, her expression softening underneath his caress. She rolls over to her side, head resting against his chest. His heartbeat picks up slightly. “I washed my hands a dozen times.”

“Then I guess you’re just that golden,” he retorts, his arm wrapping around her form and pulling her closer, wanting to feel more of her. He could never get enough of having her like this, her body heat seeping into him, their legs tangled together underneath the covers.

Another crashing thunder drowns out her reply, and then with one last flicker all light in the apartment dies down. The power went out. This was to be expected. Both of them are quiet for a few seconds before Kuroo presses a kiss to her crown, mumbling “want me to check that for you?” against her hair. Always in fix-it mode, like muscle memory to him.

She shakes her head and only inches closer to him, her hand slipping under the hem of his shirt to feel his warm skin. Kuroo lets out a quiet hum in return.

“No use in plugging the power back just now,” she mumbles and for a brief second the bedroom is illuminated from the lightning outside. “We’ll let the storm pass first. Plus, I don’t want to let you get up and go right now. Stay with me.”

Her last words seem to be laced with something else; a silent question and pleading. The unspoken desire to let the world spin without them for a while, enjoying these dead hours of the day when it can be just the two of them in perfect unison.

Kuroo tips her chin up with one finger. In the dark he can barely make out the silhouette of her but it doesn’t matter, he has memorized every inch of her with his fingertips alone a long time ago. He catches her lips with his, a gentle kiss exchanged between them, lasting for a few heartbeats.

“You don’t even have to ask”, he mutters against her lips, smiling when she steals another kiss from him. He lets her. She can have them all, all of him, his heart served on a silver platter if she wished for it. It baffles him sometimes, thinking how much of his life has gone by without getting to kiss her, until the sun, the moon and all of the stars set the waves in motion that lead to him finally meeting her.

When he told her back then that it all felt like a dream, one he’s scared of waking up anytime soon, he meant it. Sometimes it felt too good to be true, the way his life turned upside down only a few months ago. It’s in these moments that she’ll cup his face, not letting go until she covers every inch of it in kisses, one reminder at a time that he, too, deserves nice things. Great things, even. And the most miraculous one was right here in his arms, hiding her face in the crook of his neck and mumbling the sweetest words against his skin while the world outside is coming down.

Kuroo loves her.

He hasn’t said it out loud yet, but he feels it with every fiber of his heart and soul. He loves her, more than anything or anyone before. Some days it feels a little too big, a little too overwhelming, quite literally taking his breath away, and then she’ll call out his name and slip her hand into his and it drowns out all these loud thoughts again. She grounds him. She gave home a new meaning.

There’s this warmth about her that draws him to her like a moth to the flame–and he knows it’s not just him. The way she manages to bring people together in the shop never fails to amaze him, her quiet presence a lighthouse in the dark. He always laughs when she describes herself as some kind of hermit, spending hours alone as she sorts and catalogs whichever box of antiques washes up on her threshold that day. It’s almost as if she doesn’t recognize that she’s the center of this universe she built around herself; the bridge between the dead and the living. The one preserving love, till it’s ready to find a new pair of loving hands, cherishing these otherwise forgotten memories.

Then there’s her quirks, adding even more reasons to the endless list of why he fell in love with her. Whether it’s her grumpy expression whenever she has to do something on the computer (an ancient one in her back office which takes twenty minutes to boot up) or her habit of unprompted infodumping about a specific trinket that caught her attention–Kuroo loved all of it. It’s all part of her.

And while the big words still won’t fall from his lips just yet, he has his way of showing her, leaving no doubts that what he feels for her was true, unadulterated love. It’s in the sound of their shared laughter when she rides behind him on the bike, her arms wrapped around his middle and her face pressed against his broad back. It’s in the warm blanket thrown over her form after carrying her to bed when she fell asleep while reading on his couch. It’s in the kisses he trails down the side of her neck after she pushed a strawberry from the backyard between his lips.

He knows it’s only a matter of time till it feels right to put his feelings into actual words. It’s not like there’s a rush or expectations to do so. They do things in their own time, and right now there is not much to do except waiting for the storm to pass, till the sun brings a new dawn and they’ll pick themselves up again, hands intertwined.

Kuroo presses a soft kiss to her temple, one hand in her hair, the other on her thigh, keeping her pressed close to him.

“Sleepy much?”, he mumbles with a quiet laugh, feeling her breathing getting more steady and her body melting more into him. It isn’t late yet and it's not that long ago since they crawled out of these sheets earlier, but he doesn’t mind. His girl deserves all the rest she craves.

“You’re just so warm,” she mutters, her voice drowsy. Her fingertips draw small patterns against his collarbones. “Makes it hard not to doze off. Maybe I’m not so different from Jiji after all.”

This draws another laugh out of Kuroo. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, pulling the blanket up a bit higher to make sure she’s fully wrapped up in it.

“I’m nothing but a fool for both of you, that’s for sure,” Kuroo agrees with a soft chuckle, his head sinking against hers. The sound of the heavy rain drowns out everything else–his greedy heart, the overthinking, the words on the tip of his tongue. He feels content, safe; like he belongs. Like coming home after being on the run for too long.

“You know what they say about the fools,” she whispers back without lifting her head. Her fingertips dance across his chest now, until they find his stumbling heart against his ribcage. Her palm comes to rest right above it and in this moment Kuroo feels as if gold is poured in the cracks of his heart as well. Mending it, putting the pieces back together; not like something broken but something that’s worth being tended to with all the gentleness of the world.

“The fools, they’re the lovers and the lonely, knowing everything and nothing about love except that they’re full of it.”

a/n: i love writing Kuroo POV so much and i'm so excited to write the last two chapters to this

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