Desiderium || s. akashi

two

FOR THE SECOND time that day, Akashi lost.

While the teen was busy reeling from his loss, your eyes drifted over to the clock. It was already nearing 4:00 pm, and you had other obligations to tend to.

You eyed the red head and decided that he was definitely in a sour mood. No good would come from waiting around.

Sliding your chair back, you stood up with a sigh. "I thought based on your blatant disdain for me, you could at least beat me."

When Akashi finally looked up, he was met with your unmoving eyes and equally cold frown.

"It's rather disappointing."

◴◵◶◷

Akashi leaned against the passenger door, elbow resting where the edge of the window met the inner car padding. Looking outside, he saw everything yet could focus on nothing, completely immersed in thoughts of you.

Your display earlier that day showed a side of you that was entirely novel to Akashi. His mind kept replaying the scene, both vexed and helplessly perplexed by your actions.

He never thought you could be so...cold.

It completely clashed with his previous schema of you, the sunny compassionate [name], but oddly enough he found it irresistibly alluring.

He could not focus for the remaining time, not even at basketball practice. Your face popped up with every hoop he shot, reminding him with each victory that you still defeated him.

"Is everything alright Akashi-sama?" His designated driver asks, glancing back at the rear mirror in worry. He was a middle aged man with neatly combed back hair to match the formal uniform he wore.

"I'm fine."

The man quietly shuddered, feeling a scary chill fall onto his backside. He grew uneasy with the fact that a high school boy possessed such an intimidating aura.

An uncomfortable silence encircled the two until one's heterochromatic gaze caught a flash of (h/c).

"Wait, pull over."

The red head stared intently at the familiar figure while the car sharply veered right towards the curb.

"What's wro-."

"Stop talking." Akashi commanded, still not taking his gaze off of you.

Standing next to you was an elderly lady who lose arms trembled from the weight of her groceries. He watched as you dipped down slightly, sliding the bags off her arms and onto yours.

Was that your mother?

No. You behaved much too politely. She was likely just a random woman lucky enough to bump into you.

He restlessly watched your expression soften with a feeling foreign to him, a look that vastly differed from the ones he often received.

His fists clenched. He didn't understand how you could smile so genuinely at a stranger, yet towards him you remained so dispassionate — insincere.

Just as he was about to tear his gaze away in anger, you turned in his direction. For a brief moment, your eyes seemed to stare directly at him, and paired with the gentle smile on your face, he helplessly flushed an explosive red.

It was that feeling again: a churning in his stomach that left his palms sweaty and heart palpitating.

But you soon looked away, your features not showing a slightest hint of recognition. His windows were tinted a dark black, and you couldn't see him even if you tried.

For a brief moment, Akashi wondered if he should give you a ride home. The idea of you seated right next to him, your backpack perched atop your legs while you try to sneak a glance at him, was something he'd willingly entertain.

He also didn't want you walking home alone, especially since it was nearly pitch black outside.

However, the longer he stared at you, the longer he watched you charm the older woman — your soft hands every so often reaching out to support her when the walk light flashed green, the longer an unpleasant feeling simmered inside him.

"No, keep going," he spoke definitively.

Akashi decided you didn't deserve his help, but he was unable to pinpoint why.

Maybe it was because he found your little act of kindness annoying. Or maybe it was because you had such a p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶  stupid smile.

But why did his chest ache at the sight of you fading further into the distance?