“You're too cocky.”

What? Atsumu scoffs in disbelief as you stand in front of him, chest all puffed up like you had something to prove. You look cute there, not far off from a life sized teddy bear as he resists the urge to laugh in your face. He said he liked you, and you responded with that? Of course he doesn't take it to heart, he knows Osamu said his mental maturity drops 5 years when he's on court—and while he's not proud of private information leaking, it fortunately doesn't apply when he's off of it.

He hissed out a sharp inhale, ruffling his hair as he shoved his calloused hands in both of his pockets. “Ain't that ironic? I'm usually the one turning down idiots but look how the tables have turned.” He laughs, mostly to himself. Outside the covered gym his demeanor is oddly placid. He has a calm exterior unlike the intimidating scowl usually etched into his features. “But why's it you hate confident guys, huh?” He asks, clearly taking it offensively when you called him 'cocky'. This makes you appreciate his facial structure a little more, his brows furrowed, a pout tugging on his thin lips. This was a revelation, a shocking fact that the permanent grimace that adorned Atsumu could actually be erased—replaced with a pulchritude that made you understand how he still had fans despite his attitude.

The after school hours are picturesque. Feather-like strokes paint the canvas of orange skies while a golden sun sets in the horizon. But the zephyrean breeze comes slowly, softly. Like a melodic hum to tussle strands of his blonde hair. They cast over his brows, shadows doing nothing to adumbrate the brown eyes that dove into yours. A gaze so intense it seemed like he was analyzing the vibrations between stillness.

The boy looks down for a second, his jaw clenched as he debated his decisions. It's impulsive, it's obvious when he looks at you again with a much intense stare. “One week.” He tries his best to make sure his emotions are muted, but it was obvious you hadn't made him out to be an angel in the first place. “That's all the time I need to prove to you I'm not entirely a jerk.” As he speaks, the words bounce back to make the blood rush to your cheeks, his presence alone an overwhelming sea of charm and impatient lax.

It's the first time anyone's heard of it, Atsumu Miya is pushing aside his ego and pride for somebody. So he looks away like he knows what everyone else is going to be saying now, a red mist of shame coming to adorn his cheeks. “So what? That still a no?”