Perfectionist ✺ Sakusa Kiyoomi

7

𝐂𝐡 𝟕 —— 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐞

Nervous energy crackled within Kiyoomi as he twiddled his thumbs, the gusty wind a mere backdrop to the palpable, radiating presence beside him. Chiharu's mere proximity acted as an anchor for him, a source of unwavering strength. Despite this, a knotted anxiety coiled within Kiyoomi. He was incredibly nervous.

Chiharu, as if savoring the dramatic weight of the moment, held his words in the silence that was building like a bubble about to burst. Minutes stretched before his resolve crumbled into a sudden confession. "I really like you," the words burst from his throat, raw. "There's no eloquent way to say it. I just like you a lot... I might even love you."

Kiyoomi's fidgeting fingers stilled. In that charged moment, Kiyoomi felt a surge of energy coursing through him, an electrifying current that seemed to permeate his entire being. His pulse quickened, a flurry of emotions swirling within him, the intensity threatening to spill over in a cascade of words and feelings. It must have been mere seconds, but Kiyoomi felt as if the silence lasted several awkward hours. The weight of Chiharu's confession hung heavy in the air, wrapping around Kiyoomi like an embrace. His mind raced, thoughts colliding and jumbling into a whirlwind of emotions. He wanted desperately to reciprocate, to profess the depth of his own affection, to convey how much he cherished Chiharu, but his voice seemed trapped, his lips frozen as if the chill of the weather had seized his ability to speak.

A prickling warmth gathered behind his eyes, almost threatening to shed a tear, uncharacteristic for the stoic facade he always put on. Yet, on the verge of panic, Kiyoomi reminded himself what Chiharu had taught him in their time together, that he was free to be himself.

In a bid to bridge the gap between his silent turmoil and the overwhelming sentiment coursing through him, Kiyoomi's gloved left hand moved with a boldness born of longing, seeking solace in the warmth of Chiharu's grasp. It was his silent admission— the wordless dialogue and understanding between two souls that were intertwined simply through holding hands.

Chiharu, in a attempt to diffuse the tension, playfully swung their intertwined hands up and down. And just like every other time he had gotten this luckily close to Chiharu, Kiyoomi found himself too caught up in the moment to entertain his usual insecurities. "I like you too. You're amazing." he finally found it in himself to say, the words tumbling out in a flurry, barely audible.

Chiharu offered a humorous chuckle in response, drawing Kiyoomi into a tight embrace which was almost immediately reciprocated. It transcended mere labels of platonic or romantic: a spectrum of emotions that overflowed into an outpour of pure affection. Something that Kiyoomi realized encompassed all forms of love he had to offer.  Their embrace isn't hurried; it's a delicate dance, gentle and quiet. The tentative squeeze gradually deepens into an compressed and intimate hold.

Kiyoomi closed his eyes, and he felt every bit of the subtle exchange of warmth, a mingling of scents—Chiharu's subtle perfume, the familiar scent of his shampoo. Only then did he realize that he wasn't wearing his mask. In fact, he'd forgotten it by the door of his Inn. How it was possible that the self-proclaimed least forgetful person managed to lose track of his most essential item, and unknowingly ignore it for this long, was a phenomenon that needed to be studied. But that thought was shoved to the back of Kiyoomi's mind as soon as it came because, he would soon realize, he did not care. It was Chiharu after all.

"You know, the first thing we bonded over when we first met was your shampoo." Kiyoomi commented lightheartedly, feeling relaxed under Chiharu's hold.

"How could I forget." the libero replied with a smirk. Funny to think that all this happened because of the butterfly effect of some Aveda shampoo.