✧ "MY KIND OF WOMAN"
☆ summary ↺: finding out that your crush, chuuya nakahara's type is the complete opposite of you, his close friend.
☆ content ↺: small oneshot, fluff, highschool au, other mentions of bsd chars (+gin, tachihara, hirotsu & dazai)
☆ song ↺: my kind of woman by mac demarco <3
☆ w/c ↺: 2k
sometimes, you felt unsure of yourself.
your parents and the people around you assured that there will be someone—no, plenty of people that would love you and your personality. you were rowdy, energetic and outspoken. very honestly yelling about cringe phrases in public. loved ones around you such as friends, would often shush you or swear you're going to be the death of them.
no—you weren't really weird, just humourous, mischevious and cheeky. yes, sometimes, it affected your love life. nonetheless, the people in your life always said there is someone out there who wants someone exactly like you. you are the ideal in someone's heart.
it made you wonder if others accepted their partner's flaws because they love them, or love your significant other for their flaws.
"man, i don't know."
your eyes roll at the guy beside you, sweating in his basketball uniform and adjusting his sports headband as you two sat at the foot of the bleachers. "very helpful, chuuya."
he was wearing red.
his uniform was red, his hair a colour of copper—but in sunlight he could be mistaken for ginger. and he had this look in his eyes, a look you can't but admire. it was full of passion, but he always suppressed his emotions. chuuya never expressed his emotions well.
and that's how chuuya nakahara was, a complete idiot. you were talked your ear off back then by him geeking out over a girl he likes but can't seem to express it well. though you get teased by him for keeping your head deep in the books when it comes to romance, you found yourself comforting him at 3am when he can't get his mind off another girl, who probably broke his heart.
that was the past when you were both new to highschool, of course he wanted a girlfriend. which was especially difficult since he was best friends with the basketcase of the school—dazai osamu. well, even he had girls liking him, which was surprising since he's not exactly friends with this thing called deodorant.
"well, why would you see flaws in somebody you love and think it's something to be changed?" the boy inquires, chugging his waterbottle. "when you don't love them, flaws shouldn't matter, and when you do love them, their flaws should be part of the reason you do."
cute, you thought.
"that's how it should be!" — you pause, waving your hands all over the place trying to express yourself, "but not everyone thinks like that, y'know?"
he chuckles, "well, unlucky for you, some people's flaws can be unbearable." you shoot a glare at your friend, "the hell is 'unlucky for you' supposed to mean?"
chuuya snickers, "nothing." he looks up at the gym's ceiling, eyebrows scrunching when he sees the numerous dodgeballs stuck up there. how did that get up there? he thinks for a second. you wrinkle your nose in distaste, "—asshole." he quickly averts his gaze from the ceiling, to your scrunched up face.
"hey!"
after settling down from trying to flick each other's foreheads for an extended period of time, you squish your cheek onto your palm. "since we were on the topic of relationships, what is your type in a girl?" you ask casually, the usual hustle and bustle of basketball boys and their friends watching screaming in the gym. "my type in a girl?.."
he thinks for a second, finger tapping on his chin.
"i like elegant girls, girls who are super classy." he smirks, closing his eyes with confidence in his answer.
your eyes widen a bit,
—you were nothing like any of those things.
"well, my type is tall guys." you quickly retort, the redhead almost pouts, before refraining it to a scoff.
"chuuya, we need you on the court, man!" a firm call back runs from one of his teammates, "oh shit," the redhead quickly gets up, setting his waterbottle.
"see ya later, idiot." his lips curve up in a slight smile, ruffling your hair gently before returning to court.
this day sucked already.
"i've been good today.. i burnt 15 ants instead of the usual 30."
chuuya felt is eye twitch, standing near the incinerator with his childhood friend, dazai osamu. "i really fuckin' wish we weren't neighbours."
he remembers back then when his mother would tell the boy to play with his neighbour, dazai. unfortunately, he managed to stick with him forever and ever.
the brunette ruffles his wavy brown hair, crouching down to fiddle with a few new ants. "so what's new, midget?" chuuya almost swears he throws his lit lighter onto the kid right there, before scoffing, "don't call me that, bastard." the bandaged student looks at him blankly, as if he knew the redhead was bothered.
chuuya sighs, "okay, well, [y/n]'s been kinda off lately, and she won't tell me why."
dazai sighs, letting go of the ant he's been holding. "what did you do this time? if a woman is acting off, it's 100% your fault." the ginger scoffs in response, "well, our last conversation was at the bleachers. she asked me what my type was and i responded with elegant and classy girls, and she hasn't been the same since. she even said after her type was tall guys!"
the brunette smirks again, snickering devilshly for a good hot minute. "what the hell? cut it out, man. you're scarin' me!" chuuya protests, before dazai asks him:"you told [y/n] that you like elegant girls, and you have a crush on her?"
the redhead pauses and thinks about that statement for a while, "yeah, what's wrong with that?" he tilts his head in confusion. "you're so inconsiderate, chuuya." dazai hums, "[y/n]'s the polar opposite of elegant and classy."
it suddenly hits chuuya like a brick — but he still rummages to work against that statement.
"dude, you're wrong! she's got a super classy smile, and really elegant hands. even the way she moves is elegant. and—" dazai shoves a bandaged hand in his face, "please, i don't wanna hear it."
"if you want her to actually like you back, tell her that she's your type, and whatever you just said right now." dazai gets up, patting the dirt off his ass. "or, be like me, and invite her to a double suicide date."
chuuya closes his eyes in disdain, "kill yourself." the teenager smirks, "you don't have to tell me twice, slug."
"you don't understaaannndddd!!" you whine, playing the flute despondently at band practice. the girl beside you purses her lips, before writing in her pocket notebook — it's just his type. and i think you're elegant in your own way.
you pout at reading that, before sluggishly getting up. "thanks, gin..." you thank, before another redhead flashily enters band practice. "sorry for being late, mr. hirotsu, somethin' came up." your band teacher nods, before tachihara, an outspoken second year, strides up to you and gin.
"what's up with her?" the boy asks, before sitting down and fiddling with his trumphet. gin writes down — [y/n] found out chuuya's type was the complete opposite of her. tachihara looks for a moment, before laughing: "pfft.."
gin, a super pretty but androgynous second year then tells him to shut up by smacking his shoulder, earning a yelp from tachihara. "eek! well, listen, that guy is total shit anyway.. besides his super cool motorcycle, and killer smile, and his super cool motorcycle.. damn, wish i could get somethin' like that."
"shut up, tachihara." you mumble, as he scoffs dramatically, adjusting the bandage on his nose. "shouldn't you just continue talking to him? him having a type doesn't mean he doesn't like you." the redhead reasons, before reading the sheet music. "yeah but, now i think of all the girls he used to like.. and i'm nothing like them." you frown, slumping again onto the desk.
"y'know what they say.. the past is past, like how i thought gin was a boy." tachihara shrugs, frowning when he sees the middle finger she shoots at him, "i'm telling your brother you did that to me." he quips, before gin clears her throat, her silky raven hair tied back in a ponytail. "he'll beat your sorry ass." she says in the girliest voice possible.
tachihara yelps before your band teacher, mr. hirotsu reprimands you three for slacking off, frowning as you guys apologize, tachihara whispers: "point is, just talk to him." the boy says, as gin nods. "—unless you told him that you liked tall guys after, that would send him into cardiac arrest." he concluded, you gulped in slight guilt.
gin whispered in a gentle tone, "did you actually?.." you don't respond and frown even more.
"damn, you suck." tachihara finishes, yelping as the teacher yells at him again. "sorry, sir!"
it was another day, well, end of the day.
most students already went home, but you decided to stay at school to study for a bit. unbeknownst to your knowledge, it was raining heavily, and luckily for you, you had no umbrella. you sigh, jamming your earbuds in before walking out of the roof you covered yourself in.
except, upon your first step outside, you still felt no rain.
then, you saw chuuya's umbrella covering you. "hm?" you turn to him, surprised. "hey, you shouldn't get sick before my game, idiot." he chuckles as you two walked in the rain, under the same umbrella. "no way!" you smile.
an awkward silence came over you two. "uhm, about the other day," the boy starts off as you immediately flush — of course he noticed that you were upset. "hey! it's nothing serious, i—" chuuya shushes you by successfully flicking your head. you yelp, "ow.." rubbing your forehead. the boy swallows thickly, "i wanted to correct myself, actually."
raindrops. they moved at a steady pace, falling onto his black umbrella above you two, onto the pavement, and onto the cars passing by. you looked over at chuuya, who never followed dress-code, who had his button-up and tie neatly ironed. he strangely followed the dress-code perfectly today. "elegant and classy's not my type, actually."
you pause, thinking for a second. "then what is?"
"good question, actually." chuuya quips, adjusting his tie. he was completely confident when speaking, but you couldn't help but stare at the nervous quivering of his slender hands. "y'know that question you asked about flaws? it made me think that somewhere out there, every person is who someone has been exactly looking for. everyone in the world is someone's ideal type." he explained, inhaling sharply.
"—and i, uh," chuuya's words strained his throat, his cheeks are blazing and he has an odd coordination when walking. "you're my— ugh,"
cute, you thought, before internally slapping yourself.
"you're my kind of, mm, seriously?" the redhead stutters, rubbing two fingers against his temple, exhaling sharply. "you're my kind of girl, and—"
you felt a raindrop hit your cheek, it was cold and quick. but this feeling, it was slow and cherishing. warm, like a sunny day in a field of flowers, or another resting day of keeping your head in the books. after moping around for days, maybe tachihara was right. the whole ordeal was stupid, just like chuuya.
"—i like you too." you cut him off.
chuuya almost drops his umbrella in shock, as an abundance of rain water splashes onto you two. "shit!" he curses, feeling shitty for ruining the moment, but you laugh, extending out your hand to his, smiling brightly.
his lips curve into a smile, "okay, maybe this isn't that bad." chuuya quips, intertwining your fingers into his, before pressing a gentle kiss to the spot on your forehead he flicked earlier.
today, it felt like running through a field of flowers on a sunny day, even though it was raining and you got sick the next day. but it only felt that way because you had him next to you the entire time.
—in truth, he was your type too, and no, tall men were never your type.
✧ chocsra™
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