Where Every Scroll is a New Adventure
ding!
. . . tsukishima kei. sweeter when i’m with you.
“did you even use a recipe—“
“yes, tsukishima. i did.” you answer.
continuing to apply frosting to your freshly baked cupcakes, you did your best to ignore the man in front of you. culinary class was fun, especially if your class was tasked with making a simple dessert for a graded activity. however, it was not that fun when you have a snarky middle blocker who always had a way to get through your nerves—watching you work throughout the process of creating such a sweet dessert.
even your sweet desserts would turn salty whenever he was around.
kei hums, amused by your response. “did you now?” he replies with that all-knowing smirk plastered on his stupidly good-looking face. “and what happened to calling me by my first name?”
“i changed my mind, that’s all.” you shrug, and he has the audacity to be the one frowning in this conversation. “it’s better to keep things professional, tsukishima. wouldn’t you agree?”
he huffs. “whatever,” he murmurs, propping his elbows on the counter, his head resting on his palm as he gazes up at you—just . . . admiring how you skillfully worked with the fluffy strawberry frosting—not that he’d ever admit it out loud, no way.
with the silence that followed, he quickly grew bored. “can i have some?” kei asks, eyes darting toward the strawberries you had cut specifically in the shape of little hearts for decorations.
“i don’t know, can you? what’s the magic word?”
“fuck you.”
“that’s not the magic word,” you coyly said to him. “i guess i’ll just give these extra strawberries to the volleyball team,” the thought wasn’t a bad one either, “maybe even have hinata or kageyama try these cupcakes i made once it’s graded.”
“no,” he says, slightly glaring at you.
now, it’s your turn to be amused. “no? did i hear that correctly, tsukishima?”
“it’s kei to you,” he corrects, softly this time. his expression was no longer stern, but this time, rather, it was one of slight annoyance and even pouting. “and . . . can i please have the extra strawberries?” he tries again, and for the first time in all the time you’ve known him, he looks at you with this soft, endearing look—as if he were some sort of kicked puppy by the street, begging to be adopted.
“see? it doesn’t kill you to be nicer to me,” you say, feeding him a strawberry or two—which he didn’t mind.
from the other stations, your classmates watched with either surprised or puzzled expressions after they’d witnessed your interaction with kei. even your teacher couldn’t help but ask, “are those two. . . ?” to which your classmates couldn’t answer either.
kei is definitely sweeter when he’s with you.
noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.