𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨; r. suna

Chapter 12

SUNA'S POV

"Can we talk?"  I ask, I was nervous.

Y/n stared at me, almost frozen.

My heart began to pound in my chest. Thoughts flooded my mind, a million a second. I wasn't sure why I was doing this, but my body moved before my brain could contemplate what to do.

"Sure," I heard her say.

I found her voice soothing, especially since it wasn't super high. It was calm and down to earth.

My heart sped up, it already moving fast and hard.

I take a deep breath.

"Where did you go?"

I should start off normal. I've been questioning her all day now, so this shouldn't be too abnormal.

I stare her in her eyes as she loses eye contact with me. She begins to look everywhere but at me and for some reason, it hit a nerve.

I cross my arms and lean against her wall, kicking the door closed behind me.

"Well?" I say.

Her eyes snap back toward me.

"Why do you care?" she asks.

Everytime I ask her a question, she always asks why I care. I don't know why I care, I can never provide an answer.

I roll my eyes, "Why is that always your comeback when I ask you a question?"

"Why are you always asking me questions?"

I stare at the girl in front of me. She must be an idiot. But, the fact that she doesn't trust me enough to answer these simple questions bothers me more than I'd like to admit.

I didn't know what to do. I find myself wanting to know more about this girl that now lives with me, but her walls are high. It's almost as if the other night never happened.

Not to say she's obligated to tell me everything because of that one conversation, but after that night I find myself drawn to her in a way I haven't been drawn to other girls.

I look at my feet. How do I respond to this?

I sigh, "Does Akaashi at least know what's going on?"

She looks at her fingers and shakes her head.

I groan in frustration.

She could be in trouble, how are we supposed to help her, how am I supposed to help her, if she doesn't open up?

I return my eyes to hers and we stare at each other in silence.

It was only then that I finally realized: she didn't want help.

She doesn't want anyone offering it to her, if she needs it, she'll go and look for it.

The night of her nightmares, she mentioned she didn't like pity. I don't think she noticed she said it, she wasn't even looking at me, and she whispered it to herself.

But she had my undivided attention. I heard everything that came out of her mouth, I was completely captivated and drawn in.

Even as she talked about the horrendous things she's gone though, I couldn't help but to admire her. She was strong. Stronger than I'd ever be.

"You're an interesting person, you know?" I say to her, testing the waters a bit.

She titled her head to the side, confusion written on her face.

"What do you mean?" she asks.

"I pay a lot of attention to you, you're difficult to read, and I enjoy a challenge, but at the same time..." I trail off, not sure if I should finish my sentence.