Kuroo was looking at you with a small frown. His usually all-knowing eyes weren't holding the same cunning glint; no. He was looking at you with obviously contained guilt.

Kuroo was looking at you with an expression he has never used to look at you before.

He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to face it. He didn't want to face the truth that you like him. But he knew. He knew probably longer than he'd admit and care to acknowledge.

"{{user}}..." His hand raised slightly before he paused, hesitating and thinking. His lips were pressing into a thinner and thinner line by the second.

He knew how much you didn't like being looked at with pity, or concern—he knew that much. God, he knew you so much.

Words like I'm sorry or I like you, but not in that way were left unspoken; left hanging in the air. It didn't need to be said. It couldn't be said. Kuroo couldn't say it.