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#user: kiyoowomi
chimielie · 2 years
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kiyoomi + exes to enemies to lovers but he’s the one chasing ME as he should and we butt heads and fight until someone gets enough of our shit and lock us up together in a room hehe (fluff or angst..? choose your own adventure!)
"This is childish!" You call, shoving the door with your shoulder. "Are you seriously just going to leave us here?"
"They're already gone," says Kiyoomi from where he's seated himself on the floor, back against the wall, wrists crossed as he stretches his arms out. "No one's going to answer."
"I thought it was worth a shot," you retort, pulling out your phone and pacing back and forth—as much as you can in the tiny space, anyway. "But that's very on brand for you, isn't it?"
"And what's that supposed to mean?" You used to think that daring, condescending voice was hot, the way he always paired it with an arched brow and a tilt of his head. You shiver a little, in disgust, you insist to yourself.
"Oh, you know, Sakusa." It's impossible to say that you don't enjoy the way he flinches, his shoulders rising up to his ears when you call him by his family name. "You didn't bother trying to fight for our two year relationship, why would you try to fight this stupid prank?"
"You can't say I didn't fight for our relationship," Kiyoomi snaps back. "You're the one who keeps rejecting me, even though I said I was sorry—"
"You broke up with me!" You shout over him, surprising even yourself with your volume. "You broke up with me over something so trivial it shouldn't have been worth even a day's argument, and you think you can apologize and pretend it never happened?"
"I said sorry many times," the man on the floor says stiffly. "You didn't listen."
"I hate you," you say fruitlessly. A sob wells up in your throat and you sit down, rather heavily, on the floor. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you."
You cry into your hands for a few minutes more, until a featherweight settles on your knee. Through watery eyes, you see: Kiyoomi's handkerchief, a soothing gray with a blue border. You don't bother to thank him for it as you dab at your eyes, rolling them back into your head so you don't have to see his judgmental stare.
"Do you really hate me so much?" He breaks the silence with a question, his voice muted, almost ashamed. You look over at him and are surprised at what you see. His own eyes are rimmed with red, his pale skin flushed with color. His trained posture is slumped and downtrodden.
"No," you choke on teary laughter, the truth escaping you without permission. "I don't think so, you—you—Kiyoomi. You broke my heart, that's all."
"I want to fix it," he says, and you wish his hands weren't as comforting as they are when he leans over to take both your hands in his. "Show me what I can do."
"You can't," you wish he would understand. You wish he weren't the stubborn, stubborn man you fell in love with. He says your name, and you fall right into his slate-dark eyes, bottomless pools of hopeful—hopeless—emotion.
"One word from you will silence me on the subject forever," Kiyoomi promises, confesses, begs. "Let me love you again. I'll do it right this time."
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