♥︎༒-"𝗥𝗲𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗠𝘆 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲"
"A cute love story between an attractive curly head & a hopeless romantic? Absolutely not.
❥ This is the story of how you got Hanahaki Disease
❥will Sakusa able to Return Your...
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♥︎•♥︎
Writing in a journal, was something you found rather cliché.
Especially writing about things you found beautiful. "Isn't this creepy..?" The thought swirled though your mind, as your pen moved at tremendous speed, the words practically flowing out of your fingertips. The once blank paper was now overflowing with letters. Being a rather strange topic of think about, after seeing Sakusa's face, something lit up.
Did that even make sense? You had no clue. He was just... Beautiful. Elegant. Ethereal. And these weren't words you usually used to describe people. What was it about that Sakusa Kiyoomi? You had only met him today itself! How can you make so many accusations off just their physically appearance so quickly? Fact of the matter was: Sakusa was very, very attractive. It made sense why he got so many confessions. Why girls would swoon over him, despite the fact that he hated any physically contact, and denied gifts from fans.
But yet, why was it that the moment he removed the mask, your heart fluttered like a butterfly trapped in a cage? The air felt like it had gotten colder, as a breeze blew past you through your open window. Just as quickly as he lifted the mask, he pulled it back on, rushing out of your house as his phone rung again. His cousin was most likely growing impatient from waiting. He didn't smile, nor did his expression change. But it was rather strange for him to take off the mask for anyone.
This whole situation was strange.
"No, maybe it's just Sakusa." you wondered.
~•~
"No, maybe it's just stalker-san." Sakusa thought. It was as if in unison you both had the same connective thought. At the same time, no less. It was the general misunderstanding that the other party was the one causing this unusual rift in the perfect little bubble you both stayed in. Somewhat perfect bubble anyways. Or maybe not perfect at all. Sakusa sat idly in his bedroom. His face sat in his folded hands as he questioned why he even bothered to show you his face. Was it out of pity? No. Sakusa hated receiving or giving pity. And what was there to be pitiful about? Nothing. "So then why..?" he wondered.
