take a seat beside the bed Rin is currently sitting on. You peer at him through your lashes—over your shoulder with a solemn expression, "Keep your head pointed upwards, otherwise you'll lose too much blood and feel light-headed."
No longer does he snark back a sassy quip or even call you mediocre (or any variant), he simply does what he is told and it gives you immense satisfaction. But it's still not enough. Not enough for you to forgive him for this whole stunt he's pulled, anyway. That part... really pissed you off.
A manager will be chosen to represent Blue Lock... and if that manager isn't me... Your eyes narrow. I'll have no one to blame but them.
You type on the computer harder than you should—fingers smashing into each letter like it insulted your mother and your jaw taut shut. It's so obvious (oblivious to yourself only) that even Rin gives you a strange stare from how his head is awkwardly turned upwards, long lashes almost covering the teal of his eyes.
"You and Shidou..." You finally spit out, when you finish up the report after about ten minutes. Your posture is completely rigid and you can't stop glaring when you finally turn to him, "Are fucking lunatics. Even worse. You ought to be locked up with him."
Rin clenches his teeth but immediately regrets that decision when a blaring, white-hot pain shoots through his nose at the action. He instinctively clutches his nose in retaliation, which makes you scoot your chair over and sit in front of him.
In your shared room—now, only shared between you and him for the prospect of your own safety around Shidou—Rin sits on the edge of the blue bed while you sit right in front of him, perched on a chair like a cat.
You lean forward, looking at his nose and inspecting it carefully. Rin almost feels embarrassed from how close you two are together—your eyes focusing on his face like it's art. A strange feeling wells up in his stomach, which confuses him, because he's never felt about you like this before.
You finally look away, only to appear back with gloves on your hand. You reach your hand up towards his face—only for Rin to slap it away with a glare, "What do you think you're doing?"
You glare right back—maybe as a fighting threat, who knows—with fury burning in your eyes. Even angrier than those soccer players Rin's so used to, you practically spit the words at him, "I'm. Helping. You. Because it's my job. Now, if you want to walk around with a potentially broken nose—you do you."
