♡ — pairing: mitsuya x reader
♡ — tags/warnings: gn reader + no pronouns, birthdays, mitsuya owns his shop, fluff, very soft
♡ — words: 0.9k
♡ — a/n: this was written for my lovely @lemonadefortwo it's still your birthday in my country so HAH jokes on u (?? dfjkhds hope you like it and that it was a nice surprise!!! c:
♡ — masterlist
It doesn’t take much time until you finish cleaning up once your friends left. They didn’t want you to do most of the work on your birthday, so by the time they were gone, there were only a few things that were out of place― a couple of pillows and a chair that was facing the wrong way. you were thankful they had been so considerate; you wouldn’t have had the energy to clean everything on your own anyway. Now that the laughter was over, the idea of settling in bed and watching something until you fell asleep seemed as good an idea as any.
A knock on the door stops you on your way to your bedroom and you take a moment to look around your living room. Did any of your friends leave something behind? It didn’t seem so, but maybe there was a forgotten wallet or some earring in the kitchen you didn’t notice. Humming, as you try to guess which of your friends was the one that forgot an item, you walk to the door and open it without a second thought.
Out of all of the options running around your mind, a pair of lilac eyes are the last thing you were expecting to meet.
“Hey,” Mitsuya says, a soft smile drawing on his lips. “Happy birthday.”
Even if you know it was impossible, you hope he can’t tell how overwhelmingly fast your heart is beating.
“Hey,” you grin. “Thought you were working tonight.”
“I am. But I took a small break― wanted to bring you these.”
The hand he was keeping behind his back suddenly comes into the picture as he reveals a small bouquet of flowers. Your face warms up as you take them carefully, taking a moment to admire how beautiful the flowers are. If you’re not mistaken, they are tulips, five of them and so very red that you can’t help but wonder if it’s because he remembers your favourite colours. They’re wrapped in sheer, white fabric, helping with the ethereal feelings they give.
“Thank you,” you say, holding them close to your chest. “I like them. I really, really do.” You know your words don’t convey the true magnitude of your feelings, but hope that he somehow understands the deepness of your emotions.
By the way his lip quirk upwards, you think he maybe does.
“You want to come inside?” you offer, but his lips turn into a small pout.
“Wish I could,” he sighs, resting his weight on one of his legs. “I’m pulling an all-nighter at the shop― I really have to finish this project by tomorrow morning or else, I’d definitely stay.” Mitsuya bites his bottom lips, his face filled with guilt. “I’m sorry.”
You shake your head. “It’s okay! You have nothing to be sorry about.”
“That’s also why I could only bring you flowers tonight and―”
“Mitsuya.”
Your voice brings his eyes back to yours and, for the first time, you notice the insecurity in them.
“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “Means a lot you stopped by, especially if you were busy. And the flowers are beautiful― they’re not only flowers. I love them. This was very thoughtful of you.”
“Okay,” he sighs, a small smile appearing on his face. He takes a deep breath and looks around the building, gaining a little bit of confidence before he looks back at you. “I lied, by the way,” he says, his voice wavering the slightest bit in the end.
You blink.
“Huh?”
“I lied about the flowers― about them being the only thing I had for you,” he explains. The more Mitsuya talks, his cheeks and nose start imitating the tulips’ colour and a funny feeling starts twirling inside your chest . “I do have something else I want to give.”
You wish to ask what he’s trying to say but, as soon as you part your lips to speak, Mitsuya presses his against yours. It’s short-- over before you can understand how it came to this, before your brain wraps around the idea that the friend you’ve been in love with during all this time is kissing you on your doorstep on the day of your birthday. Your hands are holding the bouquet as a lifeline, still dazed at the interaction and wondering if it was part of a very intricate daydreaming spell.
Even if the jury is still out on your thoughts about the situation, you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. Mitsuya notices this and lets out a small chuckle.
“Fuck, I hate I have to go,” he whispers, passing a hand through his hair. “When you look like that, I really want to kiss you again.”
“I’ll walk you,” you say. Any other day, the offer might’ve come too fast for your liking, but you have different priorities now.
“To my shop? I rode my bike here.”
“I’ll walk you downstairs. To your bike.” A pause. You hope your message is getting across. “We can take the elevator.”
One, two, three. It takes three seconds for Mitsuya to understand your implication but, once he does, his boyish grin splashes on his face.
“Okay. Walk me down, then.”
It takes no time for you to leave the bouquet of tulips on the table near the door and take your keys before you close your apartment. A mischievous silence reigns inside your building corridor as he presses the elevator button and both of you wait for it to reach your floor. The moment it does, he gently guides you inside by softly pressing his hand against the small of your back. You turn to look into his lilac eyes and, balancing on your heels, you feel the words come out of your mouth on their own accord.
“I really like you.”
Before the doors close, his lips meet yours once more.
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