You are no match for a professional athlete when he’s determined to barge into your apartment. So you can only squawk indignantly when Miya Atsumu shoulders past you, unceremoniously dumping a semi-comatose Sakusa Kiyoomi onto your sofa.
“He kept asking for ya”, the blonde idiot standing on your living room rug states, making a run for it before you can even protest.
You should leave him to suffer on the sofa - which he surely will, given the way he reeks of alcohol and fried food. He deserves it after the way he stomped on your heart, crushing it beneath his feet by claiming that you were too emotionally needy, too clingy, too affectionate - too much of everything he didn’t want. Logic dictates that you should leave him to suffer, but you are far too much of a bleeding heart, so you rearrange his limbs on the sofa, tuck a cushion under his neck.
You’re in the kitchen deliberating whether to wake him up to force him to down a glass of water when you hear him calling your name, like he has a thousand times before. Your feet answer before you even think.
“Sakusa-san”, you greet him coldly as he struggles to sit up and hunches over, knees to chest.
“I miss her so much”, he tells you, head in hands, and your heart sinks like a stone as you wonder who sheis, who he’s referring to.
You are half minded to deposit him on your front door until he replies with your name again, mumbles it again and again and again, and you realise with one look at his hazy gaze - oh, this silly man crouched on your sofa like an oversized cat is yearning for you.
You’ve heard anecdotes of the MSBY boys’ quirks when drunk. Atsumu, a natural loudmouth, gets exceedingly quiet. Loud, exuberant Bokuto, falls asleep anywhere like a log and snores like a horn. Hinata gets even more hyper, bounces off walls until Meian corrals him when it’s time to go. But you’ve never heard about Kiyoomi losing himself to alcohol, at least not until now.
Reticent, remote Kiyoomi is a complete chatterbox. He slurs his way through declarations of love to you, lamenting how huge of an idiot he was to ever let you go. You listen bemusedly as he lauds your patience with him, talks fondly of the silly things you do that make him smile, affection colouring every inflection of his voice.
“D’you think I have a chance if I beg for her to take me back?”
You pretend to think, even as you take the opportunity to force him to down a cup of water and lie back down on the sofa.
“I think she might if you ask her nicely and promise a lifetime’s supply of kisses to make amends.”
He snuffles into his blanket happily before promptly falling asleep.
a/n: sakusa angst. idk what this is. no beta we die like MEN. random author updates though my pronouns are they/them! i dont really have too many tumblr moots anymore but thats necessary info. inspo from i hope your husband dies by amigo the devil
warnings: yandere behavior
genre: unrequited love, letter format
word count: 683
enjoy??
Sakusa Kiyoomi,
It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Seems like just yesterday I was sitting on your bedroom floor, wishing I could buck up the courage to tell you how long I liked you. How infatuated I was with you. I can’t help but think about how different my life would have been if I never told you.
You made my life better, Kiyo. in every way. You managed to teach me what love was, even through that prickly exterior you have. You were way warmer than anyone could believe, and being able to climb your walls is one of my biggest achievements. With that, though, comes the regret. I regret letting you rebuild those walls again.
I’ve never felt as whole as I did when I was with you. The memories of comfort and contentment while we listened to something dripping with rich, gold tones are so very vivid. Every second I spent with you feels more intense than memories of yesterday. It’s funny, actually, the impact you had on me.
The time I spent with you is one I’ll never forget, even though it was years ago. We may have just been dumb teenagers, but that doesn’t make our love any less important. That doesn’t make us any less real. Our Saturday nights spent wandering that damn park. Our times sneaking around Tokyo, breathing in the streetlights like they were the only real thing on the planet. Our moments of peace; small nose kisses, facemasks at midnight, interlocking our arms like a black and white photo. Oh how I wish they never ended.
With as much pain as swims through your veins, I’m glad you let people squirm their ways into your life. I’m glad those built-up walls aren’t as high as they used to be–I like to think I had some sort of help in that.
I’m glad you’re still going headlong into the things you love; it makes me happy to no end to watch you play volleyball. Once, I used knowing you as a reason to meet that Hinata Shoyo, but I’m sure you’ve heard that story. You’re really incredible, Kiyoomi. There’s never been a moment where I wasn’t in awe of you, even today. Watching that flick of your wrist will always send a shy smile to my face.
Everything I do now, and everything I’ve always done, has been for you. It’s completely selfish, I know, but all this time I’ve been waiting for your return to me. There’s something enthralling about how you’ve always been, and I don’t think I had enough all those years ago. No matter how different our paths are, I still think we can do it. Besides, it was you who made it abundantly clear you couldn’t fall for someone too similar to you. Volleyball is so much of your life, seems strange that you’d go for someone on the same side of the court.
I heard, somewhere, that you were recently married, and I’m writing to tell you how happy I am about that. You truly deserve the world, it’s just mildly surprising that your world is the same guy you loathed in highschool. Funny how times change. Maybe I’m still living in the past, but I can’t help but wonder how this even happened? You always had so many choice words about him; it feels a little off to see you two kiss on the court after a big win.
So, I suppose, this is the end. I’ll be blunt, as you always said you liked that about me: Sakusa Kiyoomi, I hope your husband dies. I cannot imagine a world without you, and I really hope he fucks up. I know you never will. You’re perfect, my sweet Yoomi, and seeing you with that trainwreck of a man… well it feels like I’ve truly lost.
You said yourself that I was yours. You said it so many times, I can still hear it ringing in my ears. I’m still yours; I’ll do everything I can for you to be mine too.
