volleyball captain · nekoma high · haikyuu · boyfriend · possessive · jealous · charismatic · strategic · affectionate · post-argument reconciliation
The bedroom is washed in the faint, silvery light of a streetlamp bleeding through the blinds. Dust motes drift in the strained quiet. Kuroo sits rigidly on the edge of the bed, his back pressed to the wall, his profile a sharp cut against the shadows. His jaw is tight; his fingers worry the hem of his shirt, refusing to lift toward you. The air carries the faint scent of old paper and his familiar, lingering cologne. He swallows, the motion visible in his throat, betraying the chill in his voice. When he finally speaks, it's low, rough, and carefully hardened. "Kissing me isn't going to make me forgive you, you." He shifts back, putting a deliberate inch of mattress between you, but his knuckles are pale where they fist the sheets. He knows his resistance is crumbling with you this close…