I WAS LOOKING FOR THIS - Blog Posts

𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 | 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐈.

sakusa is rich, it comes as no secret, and that’s why you tell yourself this was never bound to work. you’re pretty sure he’s got tons of trust-fund-raised family friends that are after his heart anyway, so his options are surely plenty open.

he’ll do without you.

yet, why he’s incessantly knocking on your door, you can’t seem to figure out, the pounding sound ceaseless as he stays persistent. you’re nearly at your wit's end after thirty minutes, stomping over to open the door and face him.

“kiyoomi,” you growl, glaring daggers his way, but he only shoots sharper ones at you through his eyes, piercing you with the obsidian orbs you know all too well.

it feels like he can read right through you, and you hate yourself for letting him get so close—letting yourself get so attached.

“what’s your issue?” he presses.

right.

sakusa is probably the most stubborn, hardheaded, determined, and pettiest individual you’ve ever met. and it’s not exactly a surprise, you’ve learned he’s the youngest and he’s wealthy, a combination that makes it all add up. but still, you’d never expected someone as stoic as him to be so borderline bratty at times.

“my issue? i’m not the one pounding on a door at eleven pm with no pause. what’s your issue?”

“you’re ignoring me,” he pouts.

and there it is, the look that first made you really realize how smitten you truly are for the man before you, and how far from your reach he really is. you’ll never fit in with sakusa’s crowd, and you’re pretty sure he’ll never understand yours, and the inevitable heartbreak seems more crushing later rather than sooner.

so, with the utmost self-control that you never knew you could demonstrate, you force yourself to pull your eyes away from his face—that’s much too handsome to be fair—and look at your feet.

“kiyoomi, listen,” you begin, and his face falls immediately. and so does your heart, all the way down to the pit of your stomach at the look.

“you don’t like me anymore?” he asks almost like a child. “but…i did…i thought i did all the right things. the movies…it worked in the movies,” he insists.

“what movies?” you ask, face twisting in confusion. he looks down bashfully, his face a light shade of pink as he clears his throat.

you try to force your beating heart still at the sight.

“i…i’m not really good at this,” he admits. “i thought…j-just you know, i did…some…research,” he finally blurts out, voice strained.

if it weren’t for your current predicament, and the fact that you know yourself well, and you know you won’t pull away if you lean in, you would’ve kissed his lips senseless at this very moment.

“romance movies?” you grin slightly. he huffs, turning his face to the side as he shifts on his feet.

“yes, romance movies. we were pursuing a romantic relationship, and their genre is romance. it makes sense,” he mutters. and despite the way your head screams to end this conversation now before it’s too late, before you’re too in deep to let yourself pull away, you chuckle, smiling bigger as the flush of his cheeks only darkens.

“that’s cute,” you mumble to yourself. “really, really cute,” you admit.

“so then what’s the issue?” he raises a brow. and it all comes crashing down again, making your smile drop—and he notices, he notices right away.

sakusa kiyoomi may be a bit sheltered, but he’s quick on his feet, he’s perceptive, and he’s a fast learner. he’s learned all your signs and quirks faster than you could hope to teach him. all on his own.

“look,” you sigh, deciding to rip the bandaid off, no matter how bad the wound might sting. “my background isn’t like yours. i’ve never had to use more than one fork and i’ve never had a bread plate.” he crinkles his brows, staring at you bewildered.

“so? i’m dating you, not your forks.” groaning, you rub your temples, mentally rolling your eyes at how dense he can be.

“kiyoomi. your friends and family probably expect you to bring someone home that grew up like you, don’t you think? someone who’s from a bit more wealth?” he ponders your words for a moment before shrugging, nodding at them as though they were any normal topic.

“yeah, they probably do expect that,” he agrees. you blink.

“well i’m not that, am i?” you ask bitterly, flashing him a pained smile. it finally dawns on sakusa what you mean, his eyes widening a fraction before he quickly steps closer to you.

you should pull away, you really, really should—but you missed his warmth so much. indulging in one more moment with him couldn’t be so bad, you think.

“yeah, you’re not. but they never gave me anything even with all that money. nothing like what you give me anyway,” he shrugs. “i like you. a lot. i think…i think i might even…you know? love you?” he asks the last bit in a quiet voice, almost like he’s asking himself.

and under any other circumstance, you’d raise a brow at a man questioning his love for you, but it’s not like that with sakusa. you know him, and you know he’s trying to navigate what love feels like, he’s trying to find the warmth of its embrace in your arms.

it makes your heart skip a beat.

“what?” you breathe. and despite the palpable fear in his expression, sakusa presses his forehead to yours, staring at you with a hard determination you’ve grown to admire.

the same one he sports during games, and practice, and watching recaps to find his mistakes. he gives you that same passion, if not more.

“i think…no. no, i do. i love you,” he whispers. and sakusa kiyoomi is a star athlete, he’s got a car that’s worth more than your entire life savings at the moment being, he’s got trust funds waiting for him, and he’s got a snobby rich family back at home, but he’s got barely anything if not nothing at all without you.

the words knock the air out of your lungs and steal your breath.

“is this you trying to be like those movies you watched?” you murmur.

“i think we could be better. probably less cheesy,” he whispers back through a wet laugh. “but i kind of need a love interest for that.” the watery chuckle you let out makes his heart unclench, the relief rolling over him in waves.

he knows it’s a good sign. he knows everything about you. and even if you’re scared, you can’t help but trust him blindly.

“okay, omi. let’s be better than your stupid romance movies,” you grin. “i love you too.”

and for a second, you’re glad he’s not starring in a film, you don’t think you ever want to share the stupidly handsome smile he gives you with anyone else to see.

i am well aware he is in japan and uses chopstick and the forks part was a little inaccurate — this is a fictional drabble though, so if you comment on it i’ll block. you just enjoy the writing bro sobsobsob