Tumgik
#indifferent but afraid
short666bread · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
2days journal (8/3/23)
14 notes · View notes
vivienna-vivid · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
If you know, you know
<3<3
54 notes · View notes
zibah-ho · 8 months
Text
babysitting and they have a cat and this little guy is following me around the house sitting two feet away and side eyeing me girl I am just trying to read till your parents get home please
3 notes · View notes
miscellaneousqueer · 8 months
Text
Everyone else has already been burned, swallowed up in matchsticks and flames and dead dreams. I think then, I’m all wasted potential. All missed opportunities and false hope. A girl made up of wet matchsticks. I’m invisible ink; I’m a still and quiet wind chime. Like a clock with no hands I watch, ticking quietly, as nothing changes by my presence.
2 notes · View notes
phantombs · 1 year
Note
❛ how is it that you never seem scared? ❜
𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝, 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: still accepting.
“What's there to be scared of?” Everything, they’ve told him. Or anything at all. Cường, you are, believe you me, an odd one. After all, for as long aged as he is, wisdom beset in his star-dark eyes, death, as always, has strayed not far. He'll yet fall when ran through, still bruise when struck, and when the moon in the sky hangs swollen and keen, he looks, no, feels, like something dead. By all accounts, really, that should have been enough: the fear of anguish alone should drop him... But it doesn’t. He gardens. He seems at ease.
“I’m still young, you know?” he explains, head canted lowly. Here, his incense smokes, his wind chimes twinkle, and Antonín, pale, lights up the dark. “But even though I am, I’ve seen a lot of scary things. Hear them in my head when I finally go to sleep. And when that's not enough,” as it often isn’t, “they’ll reach right out and feel me, too.” Right there in my skin. He looks sideways. Antonín stands there, watchful, curious, and Cường, feeling their air, massacre-heavy and reaper-thick, pots his spring-green sapling.
Pretty. Young, fresh, promising, and even after winter, death, alive. Cường turns to the devil standing tall in his greenhouse. “So, I like to think these days that I look forward to anything now. And I am. Eager for it, actually. Why ask?” After all this time... “Do you plan to remind me what it's like to be scared?”
3 notes · View notes
mimnghs · 1 year
Text
maddy is a.... "i would let you k*ll me" kind of lover,,, a... "i would k*ll us both" kind of gf....
2 notes · View notes
hufflpuffin · 1 year
Text
God it feels nice to finally block my abuser's number and social media. I already had lost any good will for her and tonight she just pissed away any chance of ever talking to me again, and im no longer going to pretend that we have a happy relationship to our mutual friends, which is something I've been doing out of kindness to not embarrass her or ruin her relationships. I wish I could just block her irl too
Tonight she screamed at me and blamed me for my dog getting sick and having to have emergency surgery, like its my fault my dog had bladder stones lol??? Along with a tirade of other nasty spiteful shit. All this because I dared to call her out when she tried to destroy her 13 y/o daughter's phone because shes mad her daughter has a phone and pictures with friends, some of whom are boys...like any middleschooler has. She then attempted to kidnap her daughter (who hates her) tonight because we took her daughters side. We didnt let it happen of course but if she pulls some shit I wont hesitate to drag her ass to court. Im so sick of this shit, i dont care if her life gets ruined at this point. She deserves to have it ruined. She deserves every terrible thing that happens to her. im so fucking out of sympathy, empathy, pity
2 notes · View notes
sunflowerpossum · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Moodboard of the day. D;
1 note · View note
cutesyh · 1 month
Text
If a scene feels flat and you can't figure it out, ask yourself:
• What can MC smell? Is there an ocean breeze, sweat, a cinnamon roll fresh out the oven?
• What can MC hear, besides the dialogue? Is a bird singing, river flowing, a car speeding, clock ticking?
• Can they taste something, even if they're not eating? Previously drunk alcohol or juice, aftertaste of a cigarette, smog, too instense perfume?
• Can they feel something on their skin? Rough clothes or delicate material, blowing wind, an allergy or a rash, grass that theyre laying on?
• What does the character see, besides other characters? Is the room dark or is sunlight coming in nicely? Are the colours vibrant or dull? Are there any plants?
• What's the weather? Is it snowing and the cold is making goosebumps appear on their arms? Is it hot and sweaty and clothes are clinging to their body?
• HOW DOES IT MAKE THEM FEEL? To any of the above.
Do they like the smell of cinnamon rolls or are they weirdos (I'm a weirdo, I don't fit in).
Does the clock ticking calm them down or annoy them?
Do they enjoy the aftertaste of a cig and like how dirty it makes them feel?
Are they sensitive to touch and how their clothing feels on their skin or are they indifferent?
Would they enjoy the scenery more if it was more sunny out, because they're afraid of the darkness?
Do they like it snowy or are they always cold and hate winter?
Come on, give them persoanlity, likes and dislikes, don't be scared to make them people and not only likeable characters.
4K notes · View notes
wilwheaton · 1 year
Text
"i wanna be the person i needed when i was her age”
Tumblr media
I hear other adults who also suffered as kids talk about how we want to be the person we needed when we were young. And it is beginning to dawn on me that on the other side of that choice are the people who needed someone, didn't have that person, and instead of choosing to be that person when they grew up, they chose to perpetuate cruelty and selfishness.
And they act like they are tough and strong and powerful because they don't let anything get to them ... but that's all a lie they tell themselves.
The truth is, they're weak and afraid.And when they can’t sleep at night, they know it. And the scariest thing in their reality, the thing they will run from their entire lives, is that they will be found out and exposed.
It takes courage and strength, vulnerability and dedication to be the person you needed, because when you are that person for someone else, part of you remembers and relives that you never had that. The people who choose indifference or cruelty aren't strong or courageous enough to allow themselves to feel that pain all over again, so they just inflict it on others. They know they're weak, they know that beneath the mask they are afraid. So all they have is cruelty, which is honestly the easiest thing in the world. It's the path of least resistance for the people of least courage.
Being cruel is so boring. It's lazy. Anyone can be cruel. It takes real hard work to be kind.
Make the choice to be the person you needed, and commit to doing the work. Practice it, and break the cycle.
15K notes · View notes
wyvernest · 5 months
Text
back massages
Tumblr media
pairing: miguel o'hara x college roommate f!reader
warnings: smut, miguel is a bit cocky, unprotected piv, suggestive massages, dry jumping
summary: you give miguel the proverbial back massage, and he returns the favour
"Ugh, my back-" he groans loudly, entering the cramped dorm room and slamming the creaking door shut in frustration.
"Still?" you reply, absent-mindedly, not looking away from your laptop screen and the from project you're working on for tonight's delivery. "Didn't the trellises at the gym help?"
You hear the cot springs coil under his weight as he drops to the bed on his stomach. "Couldn't even use them."
"Hm?" You're still half focused on your research, briefly catching the last words of his replies.
"The gym was full." He groans, shuffling on the mattress.
He is increasingly frustrated with the lack of attention he's receiving from you. You two have been teasing eachother for a while; enough of a while to get him riled up late at night, and to considerably speed up your heart rate whenever he was around.
But even now, you were afraid of being more obvious than necessary. He seemed so confident and easy to talk to, but sometimes you could only wonder if that's just what he was like with everyone else.
He wasn't. He was only this open to you. This relaxed. At least he wasn't aware of how attractive and intimidating his confidence could be to you.
Your delicate fingers kept tapping on the keyboard, unrelenting. Nearly indifferent.
"Didn't you say you'd finish it this morning?" he groans, slightly muffled by the pillow he rested his head against.
"Yeah." You aren't paying attention. Truthfully, beneath the façade, you can barely understand what you're reading, your eyes mechanically darting across the text in front of you. All you can think about is how much you'd want to straddle him and make out right now. Especially with the way he's groaning from the back pain-
"- I overslept." You explain, scarce and somewhat cold. He sighs deeply, and you feel your heart sink into your stomach. Fuck. You don't even know if being roommates is either a blessing or a curse. How are you even supposed to study with-
"Can't you take a break? Por favor." He speaks, his voice down an octave. You can't take it anymore. You peek at him over your shoulder, pondering.
He's shirtless. Of course. He has to be doing it on purpose at this point.
Your attention drifts over the line of his back that bends just slightly for him to hold his beefy arms under his pillow. His muscles ripple as he shifts to get more comfortable into the greyish bedsheets.
"Give me a back rub." He challenges, squinting his eyes and watching your face drop the second his request is processed in your brain.
"Come on." He chuckles lowly. A few ruffled strands of hair on his face make it look like he had just woken up. You can't resist. "Help me feel better."
Raising from the desk chair and moving to sit on the edge of the bed, you place your hands on his shoulder blades, pushing gently, kneading the tensed muscles there. He sighs deeply once again as he feels your small, warm palms on his broad back.
"Ugh." he groans, relaxing under your touch. "Push harder."
You comply, applying more pressure, digging the heels of your hands into his toned muscles.
Your vision washes over his body, comforted by the fact that he can't see you. His back is so much bigger than your whole body. You feel an unfathomably strong need to lay on him, to feel the heat of his skin invade yours. Or better yet, have him lay on you, feel the whole weight of him, cozy and constant.
"Oh-" He moans, raspy and low when you find another tensed up knot, "-feels so good." You're starting to soak your panties from the sounds he's making.
"You're so good at this." He halfly speaks into his pillow, evidently pleased with the special treatment. "Ah, yeah, right there- oh-"
Insisting on the spot, you start putting your upper body weight into the strokes, not having any more force in your arms. He groans again at the sudden change, only this time it comes out very much like a prolonged moan.
Soon enough your own back starts to hurt from the twisted position you're in, legs dangling on one side of the mattress and your torso turned to him. Ceasing your movements, you bring your hands to your lower back, pushing so you could straighten your spine as a faint ache begins to form.
"Get on the bed." He moves his head to gaze up at you over his shoulder. "Straddle my waist. Better for the both of us.", He advices, as if it's nothing.
Your heart rate picks up as uneasiness shoots through your veins as in a lighting strike. You've never been this close to him before. This physical, this intimate. Heart fluttering at the faint hope of reciprocated feelings and the possibility of something more, you silently accept the suggestion.
Climbing on the bed, you hop on his lower back, gradually and slowly laying your bodyweight on him.
"Is this okay?" You're finally settled, and he groans in an infinitely relieved exhale.
"More than okay." One of his hands slips away from under his pillow to tap on your thigh, nearly making you jump. "Continue, it was so good."
Trying to ignore his hand still resting two millimetres away from your leg, you resume the massage, searching for more knots over his broad back.
"That's it, that's it, oh fuck- ugh" His voice sultry and raspier, he flexes his back muscles involuntarily the second you finally reach the spot.
You have to use all that's left of your self control not to accidentally clench your cunt on his lower back. But you can't help it. Wearing a skirt wasn't the best idea today.
The way he's slightly squirming underneath you as you massage his huge shoulders, the way your clothed clit rubs against his skin with the motions have you shivering lightly.
"Yeah- oh, fuck" Your hands are behind his neck, undoing all the aches and rigidity from hours of hunching over his desk, of not taking long coveted breaks.
"I'm done, my arms are starting to hurt." You announce, partially true. You also couldn't stand his noises anymore, all the obscene groans and rough moans, fearing he might start feeling now wet you've actually gotten in the meantime.
In a surge of confidence, you lean forward, more or less intentionally letting your breasts squeeze flush against his back, and you kiss his cheek, soft and tender.
He's surprised and flustered for a flashing second, before letting a smirk tug at the corners of his mouth.
"Let me give you one too, cariño."
You shiver at the pet name, hearing him talk this way to you for the first time.
How could you possibly say no?
You lay on the bed where he had been, feeling the clean sheets warm and infused with his musk.
The mattress dips, springs creaking slightly as he adjusts his weight, finally straddling your upper thighs. Your breathing quickens in shock, not having expected him to take the same position as you did. You feel his weight on you, grounding you.
His broad hands start at your shoulders, questionably innocent at first. But just as you start to think that there isn't more to the way he's sat behind your ass, to the way he's touching you, his palms drift away from the usual motions of the massage he is supposed to give you.
Expert, cursory fingers pretend to knead down, to your waist, gripping hard.
You start feeling your pulse in your neck.
One of his thighs flexes on your side as he slightly adjusts, lifting himself a mere inch above you and settling back down. Only this time, you can feel his erection through his sweats, snugly sat between the globes of your ass.
Leaning forward, his grip on your waist remains strong as he slightly grinds his cock on you from behind, his hands mimicking his rhythm as if things aren't already obvious. It's still a massage, it's just not his main goal.
"Mm- Miguel-" you attempt to protest, only it comes out as a moan laced with anticipating pleasure.
A broad, warm hand slowly and unabashedly moves from your waist up to your shoulder, only for a mere second kneading the tensed muscles before drifting down. His fingers ever so slightly slip underneath you as he palms your right breast, not stopping his hips from rubbing his dick against you.
He's slow and careful, as if still hoping you hadn't noticed or aren't bothered to ask him to get off, even through your mewls and his moaned name.
“You're so..” He speaks quietly, for himself, “soft, and fragile-” He leans forward, much like you did, but instead he kisses your neck, down your spine. “I wanna-”
He leaves the voiced desire unfinished as he picks your torso up to his chest, his arms encompassing you, flipping you around.
Now with your body trapped in his embrace, thighs between his and hands squished together, he kisses your flushed cheeks with fervour.
“Tell me to stop.” A low whisper below your ear. Watching your face for any trace of doubt, you shake your head, ‘no’.
‘Don’t stop.’
Placing you back down on the mattress, he bunches your skirt up to your middle, moving your panties to the side as his other hand takes his rock hard cock out of his sweats.
You feel the precum coated head flush against your pussy lips, pushing in with a gravel groan.
As soon as he gathers the courage to advance, his length grazes your clit, your hips automatically jerking away, akin to having touched hot coal.
A shiver runs down your spine that makes your cunt flutter, his awaiting cock twitching in enthusiasm. He feels you spasm and grow wetter.
“Ugh, that- you feel so good-”
He’s only taking his time before he can bottom out inside you. With a look over your shoulder, you don’t trust your voice to respond. You nod and clench your pussy around him, aiming to viciously drive him mad.
He suddenly pushes forward, hands forcing you onto him, the contact with his own blazing flesh making your brain melt and eyes roll back into your head. You can almost feel his bulbous tip in your guts, messing with your nerves and sinews.
Quickly adapting to the new conditions your body has given him, he corrects his grip on your waist, hoisting you until your feet lose contact with the bed. Back now arched, ass well-adjusted to meet his height, upper body rested on the plush pillows. He drags out halfway before sinking back in.
His hips slowly rotate against yours, his tense abdomen waving into you
You can’t take it anymore. Your limbs feel like radio-static, heart sending its pulse into your pussy, breathing laboured and synced with his. The broad head flicks a spot deep inside you that curves your spine this time, feet no longer able to find balance away from the stimulation.
A strong forearm curls around your middle with snake-like speed. You settle obediently back into his hold.
Your hips wiggle closer into his, apologetically stuffing yourself full of him. He smirks at the gesture, satisfied.
“Fuck, Miguel-”, you moan for him, giving him exactly what he wanted before he started pounding into you.
A combination of his pelvis slamming into yours and his hands violently dragging you back onto his dick has high-pitched whimpers crawling out of your throat. Your head rings with the sound of the bed squeaking back and forth along with the harsh returns of his cock in between your come-soaked folds.
His firm hands hold you from flinching, fingers digging into your waist while his thumbs press down into your lower back.
It's when he changes his angle that you scream out, all consciousness dissolving into raw, carnal bliss. Ruptured cries and fractions of his name bloom out of your nearly-dry throat.
He feels his heavy cock pulsate as your ass jolts with each slap, your pussy choking his dick in the process.
With a suffocating groan, he releases inside you, his ecstasy drawn-out into fractured grunts blended with heavy breaths.
You sense his warm come spilling inside you. Your own climax sends your head spinning, your loud pulse dropping in your ears.
The thunder subsides through your veins like a candle being put out by the cold.
Tumblr media
a/n: sorry for the delay i have a ton of stuff to do for college 💀
5K notes · View notes
lo-carb · 1 year
Text
Made the babies a space in the coop, first night out!
Tumblr media
0 notes
Text
why do I hate when ppl text me and why do I want to ghost this person so bad ?
0 notes
nitw · 6 months
Text
OKAY REAL TALK. i'm on episode 5 rn. if this keeps up the way i think it is then this show is such a fucking genius adaptation, and i never would've seen it coming
like yeah, an animated scott pilgrim series authentic to the comics and the story bryan originally wanted to tell would've been amazing too. but when you think about it, SCOTT'S story has already been told to us more than a few times now. even if the live action movie took a different turn by accident, the overall message of "well-intentioned people can still make, and should still take responsibility for, mistakes that hurt those who care about them, and indifference will only end up hurting them back" still sticks for the most part.
but it's mainly been from scott's perspective. which makes sense! he's the main character, so, obviously!! but here's the thing: ramona has ALWAYS served as a reflection of scott's issues. ngl i think this is one of the most consistent things in the entire franchise, and it's why i love ramona so much. as we dive further into her backstory we learn just how much of a wall she's built around herself, how she's afraid of trusting people, but especially that, as sympathetic as she is, she's also caused so much (unintentional) damage herself. although she's introduced as someone literally too good to be true and unreachable by scott's standards, it becomes more and more apparent how similar scott and ramona are, and so they're perfect for guiding each other towards a brighter path.
and what better way to highlight this than to flip the tables completely, putting RAMONA center stage aka making the audience intimately familiar with her immediately, making SCOTT the mysterious damsel in distress/goal at the finish line instead, driving ramona to face the 7 evil exes and making amends with them in a way scott never could???
also can i just say. HUGE SHOUTOUT to the marketing team for hiding this reveal SOOOOO well. like seriously, i was worried they were showing TOO MUCH in the trailers BUT I WAS WRONG. WE GOT PLAYED SO HARD
4K notes · View notes
blearyfaced · 1 year
Text
.
#why does it always have to be me#why am i always expected to be the bigger person why is it up to me especially when ive been wronged or hurt#why is it always like that#i thought home was supposed to be safe and its not in fact it all stems from here!!! wtf!!!!#im just so tired#its not my fault and im tired#im not the best at communicating im so aware of that but i did nothing wrong!! and more importantly i never give up i always keep on trying#and it just hurts because its very obvious that if i dont take the first step then things are lost!!! but maybe thats for the best idk#except i live here#i dont know but im tired#this time i refuse to do things about it if its never fixed then so be it#if no one cares and everyone is allowed to be indifferent then so am i#im done caring#i wonder if i just look or behave a certain way that makes others be like this with me#in the end it's like theres no value to anything i do#anything i say anything i am#nothing#so idk im done#no one cares if im hurt and im an idiot because in the end the only one who cares is me and i feel so alone#no ones afraid or worried to lose me or that ill leave because im dumb enough to stay/to ask to talk/to keep it all in and move on#to take on all the work and im always trying to make things right why does no one else care?? i sound so whiny and i hate it but im just so#it hurts????? why am i even here whats the point of me#and omg im not perfect i make mistakes i knowww but at least im here im trying im not giving up i say sorry and i tryyyyy and i keep at it#but what has that ever done for me maybe its time to stop for good#im so tired and no matter how much i care and no matter what i do im always falling short im never enough and things never change#its so unfair the way its almost always onesided always my fault its exhausting#funny how it also maybe feels like not even my family thinks im worth keeping or fighting for except i think i get it now it makes sense#its fine it doesnt matter im just really tired#personal
1 note · View note
vsimp · 10 months
Text
bitter
Tumblr media
pairing: kamisato ayato x f!reader
wc: 3k
genre: angst
summary: where you are in an arranged marriage with him and you rarely ever see him
warning: somewhat traditional housewife roles, negative thoughts
Tumblr media
What a cruel fate it was, to fall in love with a man who neither loves or hates you.
To spend long, cold nights alone. A large, indifferent room divided by two separate futons.
You knew that your husband was a busy man. He worked all night, barely resting during the day, and every time you’ve caught glimpse of his office, there was always a huge mess laying around on his desk. But having been married to him for such a long time, you felt that the distance between you two grew longer and longer every day.
In the morning, you would greet him with the biggest smile you could muster. He would greet you back with the same gentle smile everyday. At this point, you knew what his real smile looked like. You don’t recall when the last time he’s ever given you one.
If Miss Ayaka and Thoma were busy, and you dined alone with your husband, the table would be silent. You didn’t know what to say, and he’d also be reading over papers while eating, so you were afraid to disturb him. If the two were present, or if there were any other guests, Ayato would be more active in the conversation, joking lightheartedly and appearing like he was actually enjoying himself.
This man did not treat you unkindly despite having these feelings that lurked in your chest. In fact, it was the opposite. He was a true gentleman every time you interacted with him. He would open the door for you while you two walked together. He would pull out the chair when you wanted to sit. He would hold your hand and escort you to any event, or if you were getting on/off a carriage.
But it was all superficial. It felt like he was forcing himself to do these actions for you. You couldn’t even tell what his intentions are for doing so. You couldn’t tell if he just disliked you, disliked this arranged marriage, or if he just wanted people to see what a loving husband he was, that everything was okay right now even though it really wasn’t.
From touchless nights to meaningless small talk, your heart ached at the thought of everything. You don’t ever recall the last time he’s kissed you on the lips in private. You don’t recall the last time he’s ever opened up to you about the depths of his heart, from the things that scared him the most, to the things that has made him truly happy.
And while you know that a relationship thrives off of communication, you couldn’t help but feel scared. You were scared that the man in front of you would grow even colder, shutting off the depths of his heart forever, pushing you away if you were to ever confront him. Maybe he’d even take it to an extreme and call off the marriage with you, telling you that he never loved you, as this was really only an arrangement between your two families. Maybe he was in love with someone else prior to this marriage, and he has only reserved his heart for them all of these years.
You have seen his darker sides. He doesn’t think that anyone has noticed, but you have. You were always watching him, after all.
A more mischievous side of him existed deep down in there, a certain sly foxiness that could even rival Guuji Yae herself. Sometimes, it would scare you to see that forced smile on his face as if what lingered in his mind were true thoughts darker than what he had initially led on.
But despite his flaws, despite the mask he constantly wore around, you loved him. You loved him so much it hurt. You loved how he cared for people despite them being complete strangers to him. You loved his gentle smile as he holds your hand so tenderly when you accidentally trip. How could a man be so kind, yet so cruel to your heart?
And even as you laid in bed most nights alone, shedding tears as if you were the dark side of the crystal moon longing for the light of the sun, you still loved him regardless.
You were in your futon all alone as of this moment, staring at the ceiling. The room was pitch black and silent, other than the occasional sounds of the residual droplets from the passing rain. Ayato would never let you rest in a room that was cold, so the temperature was heated comfortably, yet you couldn’t help but bundle yourself up under the covers even more.
It was cold without him. You didn’t even realize when the last time he had actually went to bed in this room you both allegedly shared.
But it didn’t matter anyways because his futon laid far away from yours.
Your own husband wouldn’t even come near you when you’re together in the same room. You didn’t know if he just wanted to be respectful as a formality between husband and wife, or if he is repulsed by being in the same vicinity as you, but it hurt regardless.
You sighed as you covered your face with the blanket, trying to get rid of these harboring thoughts. It was no use, no matter what you did, you couldn’t stop thinking about your relationship with him every single night. He is what plagues your mind at night, like a thorn lodged deep in a fingertip. It was only soon that you will be bleeding out your love for him.
How could you make a scene about all of this anyways? You've seen how hard he works. You knew that everything he did, it was for the sake of protecting his family and home. Who were you to complain about how busy he was? That was another reason why you continued to keep silent. You thought that your worries meant nothing compared to his own.
Your mind was racing a mile per minute, and you knew you weren't able to get any sleep like this. You got up and out of your futon as you decided to go for a stroll around the estate. The guards protected the outside and prevented from anybody from coming in. As long as you walked around inside, there should be no problem with you strolling the corridors, so long as you remained quiet.
Lighting up a candle, you started meandering through the halls, your footsteps nearly silent with no goal or destination in mind. You didn't even realize your feet had automatically taken you to the doors of his office, the same door that you have stared at many times, knowing that your husband was in there, but you had no reason or courage to open. You see the dimly lit light through the translucent paper sheets, and you knew that tonight was going to be another long night with no rest for him.
You sighed, not remembering the last time you had been in his office, and you were about to step away, but the door suddenly slides open rather violently. You flinch in shock because you didn’t expect for anything to happen, as he usually never notices your presence.
"Who is there?" He said in a serious tone, and you were finally greeted by the man who plagued your every thought and dreams. His hand laid on the hilt of his sword, almost as if he was ready to strike down any intruder who was lurking in the shadows. But instead of drawing his sword, he blinked a few times, realizing it was just you who stood there. He instantly let go of the sword and his expression relaxed a bit, although his eyebrows were furrowed slightly to show confusion. "Y/n? What are you doing here? It is almost 2am right now."
His presence stunned you for a second before you snapped out of the current awe-struck daze you were in. It had been quite a while since you've seen his face. He was rarely home anymore, but when he was, he would be holed up in his office. You only ever see him to greet him when he returned back home, and sometimes when he leaves, as he had a habit of sneaking out secretly every so often.
"Oh." You were flustered at this unexpected situation. "I had trouble sleeping, so I decided to go for a walk..."
"Is something troubling you?" He asked in concern. "If it is work-related with the household, then I know Ayaka would be happy to give you a hand.”
"It's not that..." You shook your head. You didn't want him to worry about you, so you tell him a small lie. "It's just one of those nights..."
"I see."
"Have you been faring well?" You then asked him.
He gave you a small, gentle smile, but you have seen this many times. It was one of the masks he wore when he wasn’t telling the truth.
"I've been doing alright," he replied. Anybody would've believed him, as he would never appear disheveled in front of anybody, but from the way his eyes had a slight dark tint underneath them and the mess that apparently was his desk with papers and pens strewn everywhere, you knew that he was far from so. "I was actually looking to take a break soon from my paperwork. Since you probably will be up for a little bit, would you care to join me?"
An invitation from him was rare, and you immediately jumped ship. You nodded. "Let me go prepare some tea."
"Oh, there's no need to do that."
"Nonsense," you gave him a reassuring smile, knowing what he was going to say. He was so considerate as always, not wanting to trouble you. "It will only be a few.”
You start to walk down the hall to head to the kitchen, but you were surprised to hear footsteps behind you. Before you knew it, Ayato was walking beside you, and you could hear your heart thumping in your chest.
"Ayato?" You questioned.
It was dim, as the candle was the only thing that lit the dark halls, so you can barely make out his expression.
"I'll tag along with you then." He said softly, as to not wake anybody else up. "It will be a good change of pace from being stuck in my office all night."
To you, he was so hard to read at times. If he was accompanying you, he surely must have his reasons, as he had never used any of his personal time on you before. He only accompanied you outside when he had a special meeting at an event that required for both spouses to arrive. Those were the only times when he was somewhat affectionate. That was why you were nervous when he decided to come along with you, thinking he had an ulterior motive like he usual does. But a small, small part of you hoped that it was something else; that he wanted to join you because he missed you and just wanted to idly chat.
You stepped into the kitchen and then lit a brighter lantern to illuminate the room using your own candle. But before you could do anything else, you watched as Ayato's hand pushed a portion of your hair aside. You couldn't help but feel your cheeks heat up at the action, your eyes making its way towards him now that you were able to see his face.
He wore a gentle smile on his face as he looked down at you tenderly. A rare expression indeed, you’ve only noted him to give this look to Ayaka. It made your heart hurt a little as it thumped away in your chest, feeling like you could soar to the moon and never come back.
"Your hair was getting close to the flames, so I didn't want it to burn,” he explained.
"Oh..." You didn't know what else you could say. "Thank you..."
With that, you started boiling the kettle of water, your body moving to find tea leaves. Ayato watches on without speaking a word, and you two drift into a somewhat lulling silence.
As you prepared your leaves, Ayato interrupted the silence no sooner than later.
“There’s another event that the Kanjou Commission is hosting,” he said. There it was. He needed you to attend another political event with him. You were once so naive to think that he would actually spend time with you just because he wanted to. You knew he hated small talk and would rather get straight to the point. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind attending it with me.”
Of course you didn’t mind, if it meant that you would be spending more time with him. But even if you did expect for this, you were still disappointed.
“Sure. When will it be?”
“In two months. They’re hosting a party event to discuss upcoming financial plans for the winter.”
You nodded, your hands a little rougher than usual as you crushed up the dried tea leaves in the mortar. Usually you would hide your emotions well, but it definitely showed in the way you pounded at the leaves.
If Ayato had noticed your switch in moods, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he went over to the cabinet to grab two cups for the tea.
“I appreciate it. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”
Another blatant lie fueled only by courtesy. He always says this whenever you did a favor for him. If you were to truly ask for a favor, he would have Thoma somehow fulfill it, or he would say that he was too busy to do it himself, and that he would make it up later. He would send a gift, picked out by either Thoma or Ayaka of course, to later apologize for not fulfilling your promise.
And although it has only happened four or five times before you’d stop asking him for favors, knowing that he was too busy to fulfill them, it still left a bitter feeling within you.
You felt that it was selfish for you to feel this way. You knew that he had lost his parents at a young age, having to resume the role as the leader of the Yashiro Commission and head of the Kamisato Clan very early in life. You thought it wasn’t right for you to feel bitter about small things like this. Yet, as you glanced at the man in front of you, who barely looked at you and instead stared at the bright full moon outside, your heart ached at this solemn expression— one that loomed with fatigue and tiredness.
Maybe what you truly longed for was his happiness. Maybe you wanted to share that happiness with him, although you knew it would be a long shot. So long as he was the head of the Yashiro Commission, the leader of the Shuumatsuban, there will always be a distance between you two, as he prioritized things differently from any other typical person. Even though he was in the same room as you right now, as the moon peaked through the small window, the cicadas singing in the distance, he still looked as alone as ever. Like there was an unmeasurable length between you two, and you were too afraid to cross it, in fear that you would never be able to reach him.
The kettle soon starts to heat up, and you take it off the flame to start steeping the tea leaves. A few minutes of silence passed, and you wondered then if he was going to leave immediately after he finished his tea. It was still hot, so you had a couple more minutes left with him, right?
You poured the tea carefully in the cup and then proceeded to hand it over to him.
“It’s hot, so be careful.”
“Thank you,” he smiled at you and graciously accepted the tea. He picked it up to his lips, blowing it a few times as he inhaled the scent. “This smells like a different type of tea than the one you served at the event the other day.”
You remembered that event. You were attending a birthday party for an old couple who were close friends with the Kamisato’s. You brewed that tea with extra care, knowing that Ayato was going to drink it on that very occasion.
“It was truly delicious,” he complimented and you felt your heart soar at his words once more. “I know I never told you this, but it was one of my favorite hot teas.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I smiled, making note to remember that information. “This one that I brewed helps with stress and calms the mind.”
He took a sip once the tea is cooled down a bit more. “I can see how this one can have that effect. It’s a very mild, but calming flavor. It’s a good choice for you to brew this, since it will probably help you sleep.”
Actually, you had brewed it for him, so that he wouldn’t stress so much, but you held your tongue back. Instead, you took a sip of the hot tea, trying to match his pace so that you both could finish at the same time.
“I hope you like it,” you said.
“I do enjoy it quite a bit,” he replied with a small smile on his face. “I will take it to my office and savor it. I appreciate you willing to spend time with me.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
“I hope you get some sleep soon, and try not to stay awake for too long,” your husband stated. “Please pardon me, I must return to my work.”
You forced out a smile in return, knowing that he had cut his time off with you short on purpose.
“Have a good night, Ayato.”
He gave a small nod as he walked out with the tea in his hand. You waited for the door to fully shut before you leaned on the counter with your back pressed to it.
He didn't even wait to finish the tea before he left. He just went straight to the point, pushing you aside as if your feelings had never mattered to him in the first place.
Your hands gripped the ceramic tea cup tightly. It felt like if you had held it tight enough, it would shatter and break, scalding your skin like the way your husband did just now.
Your tears dripped into the tea, the salty solution messing with the delicate taste of the drink as you sipped it, not wanting anything to go to waste. What was once a calming, smooth taste was now bitter.
So, so bitter.
It was another cruel, lonely night that awaited you.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
6K notes · View notes