Did he just… accidentally confess??
Frozen to the spot, he tried desperately to come up with a way to cover his blunder but his mind drew a blank. He watched (F/N)’s lips open and close, the frown on her face deepening as she tried to process what he had just said. Praying to whatever mighty powers on earth that she would not take his words seriously, a seeping chill creeped through his body with every second that passed.
He held his breath.
“Are you… feeling sick?”
Thank god. He exhaled slowly. “No… it’s nothing. I’m fine. I’m just… tired, that’s all.”
She took a step closer, scrutinizing his expression as if she knew he was telling a lie. Uncomfortable under her gaze, he turned away and retreated to the b
The gate opened and all four heads snapped up, eager to hear the story of wat had happened in the Soul Society, though they new the best they'd get is "It's taken care of" if he was in a good mood and "Shut up" if he was in a bad mood, but wat they saw pass through the gates was quite stunning, Ichigo Kurosaki with a distressed looking Rukia Kuchiki in tow, the former had a rather peeved "I-Hate-The-World" expression on his face and the latter had a very sulking "Why-Me?" expression on her face, of the four of them, Uryuu built up the nerves to ask first, Orihime was too poliete and Yoruichi and Urahara were still too stunned, "Wat the heck happened?!" the quincy nearly shouted, Ichigo gave his companion a slight push so that she was standing next to him rather than behind him and no longer could sulk in the privacy of his shadow, "Madame here thought she could take on the problum all by her little self, well, that certainly wasn't true was it?" the response wasn't either of hi
Yoosung sniffled from where he was curled against your side. "Still..." he trailed off, burying his face into your chest. "Mmm!!!"
"What?" Tilting your head to the side, you looked down at him questioningly, running a hand through his blonde locks.
Sitting up abruptly, Yoosung pouted, his face inches from yours. "It isn't manly!"
As you watched the poor boy's blush worsen you couldn't hold back any longer, full-on laughter escaping your compressed lips. He was just so freaking cute!
"(Y/n)!!!" he whined, small tears appearing in the corners of his eyes. "It's not funny! I'm an adult and I'm still getting voice cracks!!!"
"I-I know, I know. I'm sorry for laughing." Cupping his face in your hands, you placed an adoring kiss on his pouting lips. "You're just too cute, you know that?"
Before Yoosung turned his purple eyes away, you caught
I stare into the mirror of mine.
A twisted reflection back at me,
Are all the people I'll never be.
Teasing me with their perfect faces,
Gnarled into each others embraces.
To them it must be so routine,
I reach out to touch the puzzling scene.
On the wall,
Will I ever be as good as them all?
Inhuman, Inadequate, Defective, Imperfect.
Never as good, I had to disconnect.
So isolated in this dark room,
Content, yet trapped, in my self-built tomb.
As I twist into a distressing shape,
I cry and I try to find an escape.
Haunted by people who click so naturally,
I realize this world will never acknowledge me.
Bending down, he reached in, scooping a handful of clothes and transferring them into the basket until none were left. As he took out the last bunch, a faded white shirt caught his attention. Disentangling it from the other clothes, he flicked it twice to smooth out any wrinkles.
The material was thin and worn out, the collar slightly frayed. He examined it closely, his lips curling down upon seeing another button missing down the front of the shirt. It was his one and only formal shirt and he had to wear this for a job interview later in the afternoon. With a click of his tongue, he draped the shirt over his arm and carri