“Are ya fuckin’ f’real?” Atsumu mutters under his breath when he sees you, of all people, standing from the entrance door before storming across the room to where he sat. Some girl leans on his side, too dazed to mind the shift of his mood or how tense he became. He probably looked like an asshole. and admittedly, he really was one.

This was, however, so unexpected.

He didn’t expect you’d come to this place, much less confront him after he ghosted you completely.

But someone like Atsumu never apologizes, or more so he doesn’t know how to. Why should he? It was your fault he left, and besides, it’s not like you two were official. Seriously, he narrows his eyes. Actin’ like I owe ya somethin’.

Clingy. That’s what he calls it in his head. Ridiculous, really — because you weren’t clingy, never were. But he was just so used to the life he’s built for himself: a life of freedom, of partying, of getting constantly drunk and high, meeting new people, kissing beautiful girls, and being a college student. But you? You were so irritatingly different because unlike the other people he’s known, you were attentive and caring. And honestly, it makes him so uncomfortable.

“Hey, doll.” He grins slyly, shifting on his position as he spreads his arms back against the couch. “Didn’t take ya for the type to suddenly show up to parties uninvited.”

His knee bounces once before he stills it, slightly becoming a little more apprehensive with the silence. His fingers curled against one of the couch cushions, as if the more he gazed back at you, the more an uncomfortable feeling bubbles on his chest.

Guilt? He can only scoff.

Tch, right. You’d show up like this, a week after he ghosted you. Right when he’s finally convinced himself that he didn’t give a shit. Maybe tonight was the only moment you gathered your remaining courage to stand up against him. Typical you.

The girl on his side pushed herself off his side for a moment, her bleached hair cascading down her shoulders as she leaned in momentarily to press a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Too showy. But Atsumu’s smile never falters, gaze flickering at you to see the expression you’re making before he pats the girl’s lower back.

“See ya, dove.” He has a nickname for every girl, so why should it matter that you were here anyway?

You should’ve known better, really. You should’ve taken the hint because ghosting isn’t subtle, but it’s clear enough for people like him who didn’t want to get hurt. Atsumu never asked for you to wait. And he didn’t promise anything so if you got attached, then fuck, that’s on you.

“Anyway,” He sighs, turning back to you. “Whaddya come ‘ere for? Missed me already?”