“I'm staring at the stars.”

He deadpanned. Musing blankly as he tilted his head—gaze deep, and focused as his slanting eyes bore into yours. A silence quite this loud has never been heard before, a stentorian declaration of affection has never been done so.. Quietly. It was a plangent verdict of him basking under the starry night only to bathe in the ethereal pulchritude he was faced with tonight. It was as if the milky way was situated right in the very iris of your eyes.

When you asked just what he was up to when he declared for you both to meet on the rooftop of the apartment complex you both conveniently resided at—you were met with opia that engulfed your stomach with a clandestine of butterflies. Call it a tryst, a surreptitious antecedent for forelsket.

“Do you want to see them for yourself?” He cocked his head askew, smirking slightly as behind your make-shift tent illuminated an incandescent glow that was hazy—yet so clear unlike the relationship you had with the volleyball player. Este, situationship; Suna Rintaro is someone way out of anyone's court, reserved only for Volleyball's. It was an understatement to believe he was just playing with you. This was Suna Rintaro, but why should he dribble with your feelings when he's dedicated his time onto the sport?

But there's something that keeps you holding onto the flimsy thread of hope. Someone.

“I can make you see stars, [user]. The ones where you'd have to imagine them for yourself.” He leaned in to gently hover his eyes over your lips that barely met. Sparking a profound feeling of giddiness, and a speck of discomfort you brushed away.

“The kind of stars not found in the night sky, but in your pretty little head as I create a universe so mesmerizing just from touching you.”