Tooru Oikawa was laying on his back on his couch, staring vacantly at the ceiling. He was thinking of a certain someone again; about the way you moved your fingers to gently soothe your neck after sitting at your desk all day, the way you laughed when you thought no one was looking that charmed him so, and most of all, the way you couldn't be bothered to put up with the showy side of him. Only a few of his closest friends saw through that façade of his, but you had been able to spot it from the start.
He liked it. No. He loved that about you.
True. At first, he had hated that about you. It was too much like himself. He didn't like not being the most observant person in the room.
He generally portrayed himself in a way that made him popular, and he did have a lot of those traits, but he turned to that even when there were times he would have acted much differently if no one was around. He put on airs that he deserved to be the most popular person in the room at any given time. Pompous. That was the word you'd used.
In your second year, the two of you had been partnered up for a class assignment. He introduced himself the way he always did, hand on his hip, head cocked to the side, smile so wide and so fake he was amazed at how often it worked on anyone. People saw what they wanted to see, he supposed.
You looked annoyed at his entrance, rather than swooning or excitedly complimenting him like most of Aobajousai. You introduced yourself, but after that, you did your best to communicate as little as possible. It was irritating, to say the least.
"What's your problem?" he asked the next day in the library. "I'm a likable guy. Everybody says so."
You rolled your eyes, and glanced up from the project the two of you were working on.
Huffing with frustration at being interrupted, you said, "Look. Everybody has something they don't like about themselves, but the way you cover yours up is creepy. Maybe you are a good guy, but how would anyone know with the way you act? You can be insecure and still be likable, you know?"
His smile faltered, but only for a moment, before he responded in a sickly sweet voice, "You don't know the average person very well then. Being popular follows a certain set of rules."
"Oh. I didn't say you would be popular. I said you might still be likable," you answered, looking back in the textbook you were reading as reference. "By the way, 'everyone' does not say you're a likable guy. People that have been on your bad side actually say that your personality is disgusting."
"What?" he asks incredulously. "Who says that? Besides guys on the court?"
"The people that know you best don't count?" you asked off-handedly. "That's convenient."
Oikawa noticed that he was tapping his forefinger loudly and repetitively. "What have I ever done to you to make you this disagreeable?"
"I'm not being disagreeable. I already told you that maybe you're even likable, but I can't find out if you're going to pretend to be all sunshine and rainbows."
"You're not going to find out, at all. We can finish this project, and I certainly won't bother talking to you again. You're very rude, (F/n)-chan," he said, voice low and serious, not feigning mock hurt or surprise as he normally would.
Shrugging, you answered, "I definitely can be. It's not my fault if you don't like not being the only one who sees people's weaknesses. If you need to prance around like some pompous king of the school, whatever--just don't expect me to take you seriously."
He pursed his lips and crinkled his forehead, staring at you with irritation. Pompous king of the school? Obviously, you were just a hateful person. It didn't matter if one girl at school didn't like him...especially if it was just you. He didn't give a damn what you thought.
