Silver Lining

Potato

Midorima didn’t want to tell her that he liked laying his head on her lap. If he did, she might think she was spoiling him and probably won’t do it again. He frowned at the thought of not being able to lie down on her lap. He was willing to spare her the credit for providing him with the most comfortable position ever just so he’d be able to do it again.

He realized that she had stopped stroking his hair. That was the other thing that lulled him to sleep. He loosely remembered her telling him right before he closed his eyes that he had the softest hair ever. But really, her hands were the soft ones.

He looked up and saw her holding a book above his head, blocking his view of her face. As she lifted her left hand to turn a page, he reached out to grab it, surprising her, and placed it on top of his head. He watched the book being moved away out of their view of each other.

“Oh, you’re awake,” she remarked. Perhaps if she had sung to him, he could’ve gone to sleep a little sooner, Midorima thought.

He closed his eyes and readjusted his head to get a more comfortable position. Once he’s settled, he let out an almost inaudible sigh and looked at her.

“Do it again. I like it,” he said with a hint of a smile on his lips, motioning with his hand.

She giggled; a soft melodious sound that prompted him to open his eyes. She smiled as she started caressing his tresses, carefully untangling his fringe and weaving her hand carefully around his hair.

Looking around, he realized there were only very few people at the park on such a beautiful hot day. He found it surprising, yet he didn’t have any complaints whatsoever. From afar, a boy was learning how to fly a kite with his mother, a man was playing fetch with his dog and an old man was feeding some pigeons.

He thought of how nice the world would be if they were to be like this always. Even winning championships never felt as satisfying and fulfilling as being at this moment; sitting on her lap under the shade and just... feeling her hand caressing his hair.

He didn’t realize that he had been staring at her. “What?” she asked. There was the slightest hint of worry in her expression. Apparently, she had been trying to catch his attention a bit too long. She had stopped stroking his hair.

He smiled. A lingering genuine smile that he reserved for rare, special occasions. And special people.

“Nothing,” he said and he once again closed his eyes with a peaceful expression on his face.