Philophobia || Shin Soukoku

7

Writing is hard, save me.

[Atsushi's POV]

-

Wait...

What?

Shit.

I sat there, questioning the all too familiar smell of medical supplies. I had a pounding headache, as per usual, just thrice as bad. It was bad enough I could pass out again from the pain. The lights were way too bright, it hurt. Everything hurt. The pain stung and it throbbed and it bit at my very being. I only got a nosebleed and now a have an incomprehensible migraine and stabbing pain everywhere because of these damn lights.

The tiredness piled weight on my face, forcing my gaze to the right. I was being stared at.

By the guy that probably broke my nose for all I know.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke.

Skunk-haired asshole.

Welcome to the Black Parade looking dickweed.

Get out.

I think he saw my death stare as he seemed pretty shaken when he saw me. He was an idiot who deserved my death stare. No matter how not-deadly it actually was.

"God damnit." I heard him grumbling under his breath... repeatedly and quickly.

It was obvious we both hated the sight of one another, but neither of us looked away or even attempted to break eye contact.

His eyes looked almost like a galaxy with the too-bright lights shining directly into them.

Pretty.

Not pretty.

Gay and pretty.

Shut up.

The never-breaking eye contact was more than uncomfortable, it was agonizing, unnatural, unnerving, almost numbing. And one thing that comes with being numb is a tingling feeling throughout my whole body. Not a good one, not even a bad one, just tingling. Shaking.

Shaking..?

The room wasn't shaking, he wasn't either, but I was shaking. Shivering seemed to be the right word, it was a little chilly in the hospital anyway.

Why would I be brought here just for a bloody nose?

-

So, apparently, said nose is broken.

Fun times.

How the hell does someone manage to throw a ball so hard it break someone's nose?! He must be fucking insane.

He is insane, who am I kidding.

I stood with my weight balanced on one leg, leaning against my locker in the near-empty hallway. A few scattered people walked, some grazing the linoleum floors with their shoes which made an annoying swiping sound.

I stared at the people one by one, still avoiding eye contact with anyone and everyone.

He walks past.

Probably just being late to class with some mundane and idiotic reason. He shot me a glance.

"Jerk." I hissed, still avoiding eye contact.

"Thanks." He said, voice monotone and quiet. He was tired; he seemed tired to say the least. His arm was in a cast, though, so who would I be to make his day more agonizing.