Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
sakusa is staring at you. this in itself is not unusual. he’s not one for words, and his tolerance for touch can be mostly unpredictable, so the staring is just a thing he ends up doing sometimes.
just your luck that today, he seems more intent on it than usual - on the exact day it makes your skin crawl more than usual. you feel gross. like he’s eyeing you the way he eyes tables that need to be wiped down.
“uhm.. omi?”
he hums. not even a worded response, just a hum.
“sorry.”
at that, he startles, pulling himself up straighter to his full sitting height. “wait, for what?”
“that i’m having a bad week.”
“‘s not your fault, though.”
“maybe, but it’s made my attitude absolutely horrible. and also… i’m going to have to ask you to leave. i need- i need space.”
“oh. uh…” sakusa is a little stuck. you’ve never directly asked him to leave before. while he could be offended, he’s a little more awed that you’re finally starting to make selfish demands of him. “okay. i’ll be at the gym, i guess. or home, depending how long you need. do you need me to do anything first or while i’m gone? groceries or anything?”
you just need him out so you can let yourself feel every holed up emotion you need to feel. “no, thank you. you can text me if you want, but i’m turning off my phone until my head is on right.”
“okay. take care, love. call me when you’re ready.”
even though you asked for it, the lack of omi is abrupt. but he’s not stupid. he’s pretty well-versed in the science of you, and he thinks he knows at least half of what’s going on in your head. if you told anyone else, they wouldn’t believe you, but omi writes you love letters pretty regularly, and that night, he pens another to slide under your door in the morning:
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