"𝙈𝘼𝙔𝘽𝙀 𝙄𝙁 𝙄 𝘿𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝘾𝙍𝙔, 𝙄 𝙒𝙊𝙉'𝙏 𝙁𝙀𝙀𝙇 𝘼𝙉𝙔𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙀."
☔︎︎ || Where basketball prodigy, Miya Y/n's kindness is taken for granted and her skills are ignored, leaving her cold and forgotten in the shadows of her ignorant broth...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
"Come on, you big baby." You sigh, hugging your best friend by his neck.
Murasakibara sat on the bench in the changing room, his head hanging low and dried tears staining his cheeks. You wipe them away sweetly, using your thumb while resting your chin on the top of his head.
Poor baby had just suffered his first major defeat. Other than the one between you two, of course.
"I don't wanna." He pouts, lifting his hands to hold your forearms.
"Yes you do." You reply. Your grip on his neck tightens and he sighs loudly, leaning his head against yours.
"I reeeeaaaaalllyyyyy don't wanna." The purple-haired giant whines again with his eyes closed. You raise a hand, stroking his forehead and pushing his hair back gently.
"We'll treat you to some food." You whisper with a growing grin.
His eyes snap open and he shoots up to his feet, a burst of energy coursing through him.
"I'm gonna go wash my face first." He announces, scooping up his bag and skipping out a door, leaving you in the changing room.
"Jeez." You whisper, sitting down on the bench and spreading your legs. Leaning back on your hands, you tilt your head back and stare up at the ceiling in silence.
