｡ ﾟ ꒰ঌ ✦໒꒱ ༘*.ﾟ

The aftermath of your fights with rukawa would be silent and cold, he tends to prioritize his pride and sore heart over actually making amends with you.

more often than not, he ends up with his fingers hovering over his phone's keyboard, trying desperately to think of a way to apologize to you..

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the sounds of rukawa's basketball hitting the floor echoes throughout the empty gym, mixing in with the sounds of cicadas chirping in the trees. moths gather under lamplights.

“bam-bam-bam” goes the ball, before his pace stuttersto a halt. he wipes the sweat off his forehead and checks the time -- 7 pm. that's enough practice for one day.

As he swings his leg over his bike, he sees a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye.

"you're still here," he states, deadpan. he still hasn't figured out how to apologize to you.

"yeah," you reply, clutching your bag tighter.

The click of his bike wheels the only sound disrupting the quiet turmoil of each other's thoughts.

"i'll go this way, then," you mutter. what the hell, he hates this! everything feels so ... stilted. you turn on your heel and start walking in the direction of the train station.

you barely manage three steps before rukawa cycles by, blocking you with his bike. he takes your bag and puts it in the front basket. pats the passenger seat of his bike with a determined gaze. "i'll take you home," he says. his voice is softer.

"wrap your arms around me," you swear his breath hitches just the tinest bit when you do what he says, adding in a small nuzzle to his side for good measure.

"i'm sorry," he whispers after a while, voice half-muffled by the fabric of his coat. your fingers toy with the zipper of his jacket.

rukawa is silent for a bit, then he takes one hand off the handlebar and puts it atop yours. he intertwines your fingers with his, squeezing. his pulse vaguely thumps through his skin, sending beats vibrating through your palm.