#this is the only comedic ease of tension i get during the story without having his even more chaotic bf around

[beaversatemygrandma]

It’s fun writing a character who has some major insomnia. First of all, relatable. Second: it’s fucking hilarious that each scene is like a d20 roll to see how much sleep he got the night before and it’s almost always a 1 or on the rare chance, a 20. There’s no in between. He’s either tired as shit and grumpy, or the most energetic character in the scene bc he has such a reliance on caffeine and it only works if he got a 20 that morning.

[yuusa]

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝟏𝟐

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐𝟑𝟏𝟑

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝟏𝟐:

You cracked the door open slightly, your eyes meeting with Yuki’s before unlocking the chain. You noticed he dressed formally most of the time, often sporting a long coat and a sweater of some kind. In contrast to yours, You were simply wearing a black turtleneck underneath your buttoned (f/c) cardigan and a pair of tights. You sweatdropped, why did he dress better than you? 

You internally cringed inside, realizing the stark difference between your styles. You expressed comedic drooping lines on your face as you stared at Yuki. 

“(L/n)-san, are you okay?” He asked, commenting on your inner conflict. 

“N-No, please come in.” You awkwardly opened the door, revealing more of your plain wardrobe to him. 

While it was simply just clothing, materials sewn together for the sake of modesty, you felt underdressed compared to Yuki. The only time you had to wear something extravagant was for the school festival and your cafe, which had a strict uniform that required a frilly apron. Even that apron was already too much for you.

You sighed on the inside, wanting to bury your face into your hands to avoid looking at Yuki’s nicely dressed form.

He silently eyed you, noticing how overdressed he was compared to you. Your simple cardigan complimented your beauty, the design not being too extreme that would drive the attention away from your face. You wore black tights, giving you a more comfortable and domestic aura. 

In other words, you have a soft housewife look. 

Oftentimes he would wear tighter Chinese-style clothing while you stuck with a comfortable style wardrobe that didn’t lean too much to different sides. You seemed so comfy in your choice of wardrobe and he almost felt as if he was the odd one out.

You guided him towards your table while you went to the kitchen to prepare two cups of tea. In your hands was a newly, unopened packet of oolong tea your coworker had given to you recently. While you handled the tea, Yuki opened his school bag and placed his books onto the table, noticing the variety of books you had on your shelves. He wondered why he didn’t notice it before, but most of your book spines matched, the gold lettering pairing well with the white covers. Did you buy specific sets of books? 

You returned to the table with two cups of oolong tea and opened your textbook that was laying on the ground. You had an array of school supplies that ranged from minimalistic to branded pens from stationery stories. When Yuki heard the comments from other boys saying you had the most girlish stationery, he could understand now. You placed the tip of your pencil on your rosy lips, thinking about the problem in front of you.

You weren’t really good at math but you desperately tried to make yourself look cool studying. It was part of your bad luck to pick up your math textbook in front of Yuki. 

"(L/n)-san. . . Are you bad at math?” He bluntly asked. 

You nervously started sweating, “haha. . . Of course not. . .” 

“But you’ve been staring at the same problem for a while now.” 

He found out?! You internally screamed. 

“H-Hmm. . .” You pouted, “I’m just a bit confused.”

That was a bit cute, Yuki thought diverting his eyes away from you and towards the math textbook that you just placed onto the table.

“I can explain it to you.” He smiled.

“Fine.” You huffed, trying to get this embarrassing subject out of the way as quickly as possible.

Yuki scooted over to your side as he lifted his pencil to tap on one specific problem. You tuned him out slightly on the inside, admiring the way his voice flowed. You wondered how nice it was to have someone as near perfect on the outside as Yuki was. Your emotions show too easily at times and you often resort to violent outbreaks as a way to control your bursts of frustration. But it seems like, for Yuki, he bottles it up on the inside, letting anything be able to tip it over and break.

Did it hurt? You wanted to ask. Did it hurt knowing that there were very little at the school who could understand your emotions? It must have hurt so much, the thought of it made your heart clench and gut curl up.

Emotions are so fragile.

Your eyes fluttered slowly as you became lost in thought.

If the Eagle was God’s Messenger, what would be the first message to be? Perhaps it could be the invitation to freedom or one last banquet together. Would they still remain by God’s side if they released an invitation for freedom?

You absentmindedly nodded to Yuki’s explanations, noting how precise his words were and how smooth each process was explained. His lips were softly tinted with pink while his eyelashes were long and slightly curled. You felt a bit envious of him at his natural beauty but diverted your attention back to your papers.

He looked really cool.

“You’ve been getting more distracted lately, is something on your mind (L/n)-san?” He asked, tapping the tip of his pencil against his paper.

“Not really. It just seems like you’re really good at this.” You glided your pencil across the paper, filling out each equation with ease, utilizing his explanations to the fullest.

“I usually help Honda-san study by making her study problems.”

The tip of your lead snapped, your writing pausing for a few seconds before continuing. “She must be very lucky.”

You focused on your paper, trying not to overthink Tohru’s kindness and presence. She was too nice to be subjected to your dark thoughts, too naive and innocent to ever be sullied that is your mind. You wished nothing but the best for her.

Yuki thought about you during the inn trip. He wondered what the two of you were. Even though you called each other friends, you still referred to each other with the same classroom respectfulness. There was this aura of distance that he could feel by just simply being near you. While he had Tohru in his life to give him happiness and comfort, did you really have anyone else in your life to give you that same pleasure?

Your blank walls had nothing but small scratches littering the walls, the paint chipping off in some areas but there was nothing hung up. No paintings or photos of friends and family to be seen whatsoever. Could it be that you were much lonelier than him, but you chose to ignore this feeling? He could see you simply withdrawing yourself from others, similar to the way you acted when Haru visited.

He wondered why you strayed so far away from the light. You never interacted with the other students unless it was for school purposes, and you only went out when it came to errands and work. You rarely talk to anyone about what truly goes inside your mind, then again. . . He wasn’t one to do that either.

You were so similar to him that it made him feel slightly guilty, feeling bad that he doesn’t know what he can for himself or for you.

“You shine too bright.” You muttered, keeping it low as you spoke your mind without knowing.

He shined so brightly you wondered if it was worth standing by his side in class. Everything he does look so clean and precise, calculative at times of the day, and relaxed. It reminded you too much of Tohru and more of what you hated about yourself. You were lonely and often kept it that way, never making an effort to break out of your habits when you’re constantly living in fear.

Constantly afraid of hurting others.

“Did you say something?” Yuki asked, the tension going between the two of you.

“Nothing.” You replied, finishing your math problem and closing your book. “It’s none of your concern.”

He brushed through the strands of his hair, trying to understand whether or not you ever wanted to talk to him after all this time. Even though he had confronted you about whether you hated him for that school event, you both left it unsaid or unconfirmed.

You pulled back the strands of hair in your face, your rosy lips glistening underneath the light as you diligently worked. You looked really cool to Yuki. You always had this aura of calmness in public, you talked with a strong voice and often wouldn’t take anything from other girls in the class. You almost never backed down from a challenge, like when one of Yuki’s fangirls wanted to ask you to a cooking contest. He wondered if the distant look you had was merely his projection.

“I think you’re quite cool (L/n)-san.” Yuki commented, putting his chin against the palm of his hand, “you always seem to know what to say and do.” 

“I wouldn’t quite say that.” You responded, tucking the strand of hair behind your ear. 

“It makes me feel a bit envious.” He said, staring at his paper with a gloomy look, trying to see if you might be able to open up to him. 

“. . . You’re cool too.” You whispered, only for him to barely hear. “You make everything look so easy and happy but in reality that is just a facade to your classmates.” 

Yuki stopped tapping his pencil against his paper, his eyes widening at your voice. 

“When you talk in front of everyone, you look really intimidating and cool. You have this nice aura around you and you tend to shine bright,” you ended, your head turning to the side to hide your slightly teary eyes, “I’m jealous of you too.” 

Yuki could see the small tears pooling at the corner of your eyes, noticing how you tried to hide the faint sight of weakness. You bit the bottom of your lip, feeling slightly exposed at the moment. Your eyes widened as you turned to him, realizing that you blurted out your own imaginative thoughts. He stared back at you with slightly tinted cheeks as you quivered under his gaze, feeling extremely embarrassed in the situation.

“A-Ah u-umm. . . I’m going to the toilet to fix myself.” You quickly excused yourself and ran to the bathroom, trying to save yourself from this humiliation.

As you locked the door you leaned against it and slid down, your face buried in your hands. You were so caught up in your thoughts you have forgotten to be more aware of your surroundings. You thought Yuki had said that in your mind and this was all just an imagination, but it was real and you just blurted out something really embarrassing.

“Idiot,” You whispered to yourself. “I’m such an idiot.”

You pulled your knees to your chest and laid your forehead against it, taking deep breaths to calm your rapidly beating heart. Why did I have to space out during this time? You thought.

Yuki pressed his hand against his cheek, feeling the temperature rise as he repeated the scene of you talking in his head. He never had anyone tell him that he was actually cool, genuinely cool in the way he wanted to be seen.

You looked really cute when you blushed.

He quickly shook his head, ridding himself of those strange thoughts and trying to focus on whats in front of him. He turned to the door, noticing that you were taking an awfully long time in the bathroom. Yuki slowly made his way to the door and softly knocked with the back of his hand.

“(L/n)-san, are you still there?” He asked. From the other side of the door, you could feel your face heat up even more. You softly knocked back, still not feeling well enough to speak for yourself without being reminded of your embarrassing speech.

“I’m surprised at how perceptive you are (L/n)-san,” he sat up against the door, the two of you separated by the thin material, “am I really as lonely as you said I was when we first met?”

“. . . You looked distant.” You said, fiddling with the ends of your hair, “you smile all the time, but they look. . . sad.”

“What makes you say that?” His eyes fluttered shut as he stayed leaning against the door.

“They. . . They remind me of someone I know.” Your hand brushed against your chest, your heartbeats finally slowing down.

His smile and eyes remind you so much of yourself, it hurts. It hurts so much to think that there is someone in this world so undeserving of pain and deprived of love that it makes you sick inside. You clutched onto the edge of your cardigan, feeling the soft material underneath your nails.

“Do you think. . . Your opinion of me would be different if I changed?” He asked, your lips parting slightly to give an answer but it slowly closed shut, “would you find me disgusting?”

You didn’t know exactly what he meant by this. Perhaps he was simply referring to when he purposefully stopped you during the school festival when he had pinned you against the wall.

“Not really. I don’t think the person you are at school matches your real personality either way. . . But. . . I think that. . .” You replied, “Sohma-san. . .”

Your fingers slipped underneath the door, feeling his warmth just barely on your fingertips. You could tell that he flinched just now.

“Even though you’re really cool on the outside. . . You’re a warm person inside, you must care a lot about people you love.”

A small smile crept on his face as he kept his hand in the same position, your backs still leaning against the door as you sat there in comfort.

“You’re a warm person too.”