apologies.

|| miya atsumu. a thousand apologies for unreturned loves.
|| gender neutral! reader
|| 1234 words, angst, second person

--

( Atsumu loves you. )

Summer; think azure skies and fluffy cumulus clouds sailing like ships above the earth. Think vacations and roadtrips to the beach where you dip your toes in the sand or make violent splashes, disturbing the rythmic lull of blue ocean waves. Think the sound of cicadas blasting in your ears, redundant noises that grate when heard too much, the fascination of little children as they wander in evergreen forests and watch discarded shells of tiny insects.

Summer; you think of the start of small loves, ready to warm each other in the recesses of the cold autumn air, enjoy cups of chocolate cuddled in blankets and warmth provided by the crackling flames in the fireplace.

You think of youth.

You think of love.

You think of heartache.

Summer, but there's a storm raging across your visage, twisting your features in hatred and disappointment and negative feelings that have long since claimed every fiber of your being. Emotions that cling to the cells of your human body like a skin that refuses to be shed. All those emotions bottled up, now finally free for the world to see and they escape, in large quantities through harsh words that promise a whole world of pain.

( Before anything else, remember.

Atsumu loves you. )

"Atsumu, you're so unfair," the words come out like sharp blades intending to sever ligaments and bones. Hands shove him away, but he refuses to budge. "You're so damn unfair."

He calls your name. You wonder if it's a plead for mercy, a wish, a small hope that you'll turn your back away from all this and go back to your days of friendship, trekking paths made of eggshell. You ignore it. The burning sensation in your chest, the one that festers into your eyes drawing teardrops and rattles your fists, that one sensation will never go away until you purge it. "It's been years, Tsumu!"

"I've always been by your side since we were kids. Even when you spit out the harshest words. Even when you've ditched me so many times that my fingers aren't enough to count."

Even when he has numerous nasty impressions in his repertoire of expressions, his visage remains placid. You think of marmoreal thrones where celestial gods rest upon, unmoving and indomitable.

"I've put up with all the strangest requests you've had, stayed up with you until your midnight to comfort you because some person broke your heart. I've watched you flirt with so many people, become a third wheel in numerous occasions."

He calls for your name. He doesn't say anything else. You realize that it's because of the fact that he can't find words to soothe the aching. Or rather, he can't say those words and mean them. Those three fancy words that have been sung to death and mumbled by lovers who never intend to keep their foolish promises. I love you. A desperate, stupid part of you wants him to say it. Wants him to murmur those words in your ear and mean it.

He won't say it.

He'll never say it.

( He loves you. )

"I've tried running away, but every time I put distance between us, you cross my boundaries and cling to me."

He blinks and the words are genuine and easy on his tongue. "I don't want you to leave me..."

"You're so unfair, 'Tsumu."

He smirks. You curse yourself for thinking that he's still attractive in spite of everything. It's those eyes, they glint with something. And no matter how much his personality is linked with garbage steeped in sewage water, that passion of his, passion for the things he loves and his honest outlook of the world, you think that those things are wonderful.

"Hell, I always take your side when you fight with your twin even when you're wrong." Your voice breaks; the tears escape. Pathetic, you might think, but there's no stopping the onslaught of teardrops once they start going. "I love you, you idiot."

He manages a small smirk, but you can see the way his lips falter, you witness the uneasiness in his eyes and the almost indiscernible clench of his teeth. "I know..."

( He loves you. )

"I'm not saying that you're entitled to loving me in return just because of all the things I've done for you," you breathe out, a small reprieve from the tears which take your breath away. "I just want you to at least acknowledge my feelings and the fact that some of the things you put me through are cruel."

You pause, recounting all the times you've cried in your room because of his insensitivity. "Stop rubbing it in my face every time someone confesses to you. Or that you're going on a date or even worse, ask me for advice. It's so shitty of you when you ask me to deliver them the message that you want to break up with them."

He calls your name, puts his hands on your shoulders to steady them. They're shaking uncontrollably and Atsumu tries to wipe the tears that have slowly streamed from your face.

"All this..." he whispers. "Just because yer in love with me..."

A sob breaks out from your mouth. The crying worsens. You think you can hear a bitter, snarky voice. Pathetic, it says. Undone by a single boy. Unravelled until you're shaking and sobbing, teardrops plummeting and small wheezes escaping the confines of your mouth. A pain in your throat that burns so much you think it has plans to spread into your other systems and just transform you into a collection of ashes. Flakes of grey carried by the warm summer breeze.

( He loves you. )

He tries to wipe another droplet of tear. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you say, mustering a small smile in spite of your worsening condition. Your voice breaks when you choke out the syllables, tears still flowing from your eyes. You do not want an apology, you just want these feelings gone.

( He loves you. )

He calls your name and it's the way he says it which makes another sob escape the confines of your lips.

"I'm so sorry..."

The reality that he means those words brings forth another wave of pain, encapsulating the different barely functioning systems of your body.

Atsumu genuinely cares for you. He likes talking to you, appreciates your constant prescence around him and the way you support all the undertakings he has gone through. He's known you for so long, mapped the different features of your face and the sound of your voice and he may not be good at comforting others, but he will still offer a shoulder for you to cry on. He doesn't want you to hurt.

( He loves you. )

Atsumu's love is that of a friend who promises to stick by your side, it's one made over promises to stay up late chatting about your favorite shows. It's one that'll give him strength to carry you piggyback that one time you bruised your knee. It's one that makes him comfortable enough to sling a shoulder around you and make him murmur jokes that one doesn't necessarily find funny.

( He loves you. )

"Don't apologize, 'Tsumu," you manage to say, finally finding a semblance of evenness in your collapsing universe. "It's not your fault you don't love me."

( Atsumu loves you.

Just not in the way that you want him to. )

--

|| miya atsumu get the hell out of my mind challenge!
|| i swear i'm going to write for somebody else next. if not, then i'll be taking that clown makeup.
|| i've been doing my best to lessen my word count and so far i think i'm succeeding hahaha. i personally prefer reading short one-shots. writing is another story.
|| the line 'it's not your fault you don't...' was inspired by a scene from this filipino movie titled i'm drunk, i love you.
|| hope you guys enjoy!
|| kylalily, 2020