Just A Little Bit Shy

Destabilized - 9

Unexpected.

Unbalanced.

Uneven.

Ahane did not understand. There were reasons Y/n had distanced himself after the incident; reasons he had let their friendship wither. They should not be abandoned so — so carelessly. But Y/n had never been able to refuse Ahane a thing. Y/n was not immune to the frustration this fatal flaw caused. Yet, Y/n was even less immune to Ahane's fingers in his hair, pushing through his (h/c) locks; tugging on an errant tangle. It was devastating for someone like Y/n; someone who had been depraved of pleasant touch for years.

It was the reason Y/n did not sleep that night, feeling the resurgence of obsession. Prickling, torturous thoughts nipped at his metaphorical heels. Y/n's mind would not stop catching upon the memory of Emica's... assets practically spilling over the table in order to entice Ahane's attention. The recollection of her offer of a duet; her hand on Ahane's arm. It was such raw, potent aggression that had Y/n angrily pacing his tiny room. It was, unfortunately, a self-feeding cycle. Every passing second that Y/n tried to mute it; such dangerous, destructive impulses, the angrier he became.

But the anger was not desirable. Yua's slaughter had been cold; detached. No different than any other mammal that had been hooked on the slaughterhouse line. Yes, Y/n had felt...

What was he to do? When the morning came; when he walked to school? Y/n had promised Ahane he would not ignore him anymore, but... but... Y/n's pacing came to a gradual stop. All the emotions surging in his chest, snarling and furious, flatlined unexpectedly. Y/n drifted towards the tiny window. There were bars over it, cutting into the view of the dark street below. Y/n's reflection lingered in the glass though; faint and phantom like. His hand lifted of its own accord and he ran it through his hair —

No.

The hand dropped back down to his side. The frustration returned.

Y/n had wanted to at least be able to speak with Ahane again, but this was... too much. Too soon. Y/n couldn't — couldn't go back to that. To what he had been before. It was too dangerous.

_____

Y/n still did not know what it meant: to not ignore Ahane. His morning routine did not face much change though before arriving to their school. His uniform was a little rumpled, he had not slept, and he kept his head down as per usual. He felt a little more stable as he passed the entrance gate without any discrepancies. Perhaps if Y/n walked ahead quickly and settled into class, Ahane would not suspect the (h/c) boy was ignoring him. Y/n just needed a moment to breathe without —

"Y/n!" a very familiar voice called out his name.

How.

Y/n had left earlier that morning, had gotten ready quicker, had arrived to the school far sooner than when he knew Ahane would come. That was the minor change to this morning, and yet now it was meaningless. Somehow, someway, Ahane had — what? Predicted his actions? Suspected that Y/n would avoid him —? No, no, that was not it. It could only be coincidence.

Bound by his word, Y/n stopped in his tracks. He would not ignore Ahane. He had told the other boy he wouldn't — and he won't.

And it wasn't like — Y/n swallowed. It wasn't like he did not want to see Ahane. It wasn't like Y/n did not constantly obsess over how tactile Ahane was during karaoke, or how much the other boy's attention was on him. It was just that...

Y/n's feelings ran a little too deeply. And that could morph into extremely dangerous impulses. The (h/c) boy, however, could not stand it any longer. To be away from Ahane entirely. He needed to be closer, but that goal was undefined; incomplete. Y/n didn't know its destination nor the journey it would take.