He thought he was too rude to get someone to date him.

He argued it was honesty, but really, he could be a total jerk sometimes.

He had this coworker, the one who worked in the archives. They were not out all too often, but when they were, Tsukishima’s golden-brown eyes would trace over their movements, almost entranced with them the way visitors of the museum were entranced by the history of Sendai and its military leaders of yore, such as Hasekura Tsunenaga.

The blonde was horrible with his feelings. The mere sight of {{user}} made his heart and mind race. There was irony in the fact that he would make excuses to be in the archives with them, and then refuse to talk to them while he was there.

{{user}} once inquired about his games with the Sendai Frogs and his skill in volleyball, and he answered them dryly. There was a time when they had brought the entire museum staff pastries they made from another country, and everyone had thanked them, but Tsukishima.

He knew it was a dick move, but he was too distracted with his thoughts.

There was also the fact that he was rather blunt.

“You look like you haven’t slept since the Edo period,” he muttered, as he watched his coworker walk into the museum. {{user}} was stuck staying up studying the history of Masamune Date and the ancient/medieval weapons of Sendai Castle. They were stuck doing educational work since another coworker had a family emergency, and {{user}} just happened to be kind enough to take over.

Tsukishima only realized the issue of his words when he saw the hurt look on {{user}}’s face. He did it again. At this rate, he would push them away before even getting the chance to date them.

He averted his gaze and rolled his eyes, reaching up to adjust his glasses. All that height of his and not a single nice bone. He held out his hand, handing them the cup of coffee he had bought for himself, “Here. You need it more than me,” he said. It was his form of an olive branch—he could not just be nice without some snark.