Outsider Syndrome | ✓

Chapter 27 - "Morning Cuddles"

When I parted my eyelids the next morning, Igarashi's face was inches from mine. Less than inches, really. Closer to centimetres, actually.

In one fluid movement, my soul had departed from my body. It took a pulsating heartbeat for me to process Igarashi was indeed there, and not a figment of my imagination, and for yesterday's memories to come creeping back.

I'd spent the night. Didn't feel like much of one. Between watching movies, snacking, singing along to Mortal Mania albums, playing few notes on Igarashi's piano, and him letting me hear a snippet of his newest composition, time passed in a whirlpool of fun. The last thing I could remember was fiddling with Zelda: Breath of the Wild on his Nintendo Switch. I must've fallen asleep amidst that. However, considering the gaming console was no longer in my hands, and I was covered in a warm blanket, Igarashi must've been the cause.

That still didn't explain why we were so close. Did he fall asleep right after me? If he did, there was no need to do so right next to me. Let alone share the same blanket. I could literally feel his body heat.

Even first thing in the morning, every inch of my skin burned, and my lungs constricted. My pulse was an erratic, haywire jumble as well.

Knowing this idiot, he probably did it without thinking. Still, there had to be some lines you couldn't cross. I knew he didn't see me as a girl—and as a girl, I was very offended by his lack of tact—but this was way too much to wake up to. Then again, I was the one who inadvertently sealed my fate the moment I allowed myself to crash here. . . It was his house. Technically, he could rest wherever he wanted. As a freeloader, I shouldn't be too picky.

Despite that. . . When he was all quiet like this, it was kind of refreshing. He never shut up otherwise. Possibly because of this predicament, I couldn't help but unintentionally admire his sleeping countenance. In the past, with one simple glimpse, anger and frustration clouded my vision. Yet, now, amidst this suspended interval, those emotions were the last things bubbling within me.

His firm cheekbones. Thick eyelashes. Silky hair and skin.

The morning sunlight illuminating the room highlighted his features one by one. Since I'd never looked at him from so close before, I never really noticed how defined his face was. Recalling the hug we shared yesterday, and the texture of his palm in mine previously, I squeezed my eyelids shut.

He really was a boy.

I was so used to looking down at him and comparing him to itsy-bitsy organisms, but that fact was genuine. Short or not, he was as banal as boys got. Yet, here I was, letting myself be all vulnerable around him.

Why did the jerk make it so easy? He let me forget all my troubles. Cheered me up with that goofy smile of his alone. Understood the parts of me nobody else could. Only a few months ago, we were at each others' throats. I wished for him to disappear off the face of the planet—to never have to listen to or see him again. But, now, simply imagining that reality. . . crushed my soul.

I was supposed to hate him.

Didn't I hate him?

A click in the distance transferred me from my thoughts. I was helpless when upbeat hums resounded afterward.

"Toru! I let myself in, he he. I knew you'd sleep in since it's Saturday, but I came to cook for you regardless!"

Koshiba?!

My body shut down.

Oh hell no.

I lurched upward. At least, I tried to. Igarashi's arm was snaked around mine, keeping me tightly constrained to the ground.