❝𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮. 𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨, 𝙬𝙚'𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙤𝙣 𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙨.❞
╰┈➤ IN WHICH a famous streamer who can't feel pain met a popular children's book author who finds pleasure in physical pain.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Post-Tim...
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You must have been quite tipsy last night, judging by the throbbing of your head and the urge to stay in bed for the rest of the day. You rolled around and slowly blink your eyes open, at least the bedroom is still dimly lit, though you know it's already mid-morning.
When your vision finally cleared, you looked to the side to check the time from the digital clock on the nightstand, it read 9:35.
You groaned, stretching your limbs before you sat up. Kenma isn't sleeping beside you, though you expected he'd still be in bed since he was the one who got tipsy first. But turns out, he's already up an hour before you woke up.
You decided to at least freshen up, soothing your headache with an otherwise cold shower and once you're done you wore one of Kenma's pullover sweaters and walked outside.
"Hey, do you mind if I borrow this?" you asked when you got in the kitchen and saw Kenma sitting on the stool, a mug of coffee in hand.
"You're already wearing it." He tore his gaze from your body and took a sip of the coffee.
"Well, I'll take it off had you said you'd mind." You walked over to the stool, taking a mug and pouring coffee. "Though I'd be half naked if I did."
"Can you not make sexual remarks so early in the morning?"
Kenma looks tired, well not that he never did. He always looks tired, but maybe because he had quite a few glasses of tequila that you bought, and you felt somewhat guilty that you had him drink that strong liquor. Though he wouldn't have to if he didn't like it.
A wave of silence engulfed you two, it lingered for a while, neither awkward nor comfortable, just silence. And in that moment you almost heard your thoughts, the thought of what Kenma told you the night prior.
"Come to think of it, you told me quite a few interesting things last night."
Kenma didn't say anything, he just finished his mug of coffee before he stood up.
"Don't you dare say you don't recall it, Kenma," you said, your finger touching the rim of the mug lightly, the liquid was so dark that you could see your reflection, the black coffee tasted bitter without a hint of sweetness, just like Kenma. But last night, you thought, he felt like a different person.
"You said you'd have to be sober to say it."
You took a sugar cube from the jar and let it fall in the coffee, and then another and another, letting them dissolve.
"So you'll be able to remember the face I'll make when you did say it."
You took a sip of the coffee, then wince when you realized it was too sweet to your liking. Just as when you were about to continue speaking, the stool you were sitting on moved and you came face to face with Kenma whose hands are propped on each side of you, cornering you like a prey.
