SOOBIN :: DREAMER @ ACT : PROMISE ENCORE IN SEOUL DAY 3
rota fortunae rtrn but i got distracted by how handsome ratio is
Respire
Part of my Ashes collection
doodles after watching the movie! 🐱🐦⬛
If we don't win, it's all over. And it's too soon for things to end for us here.
▸Blue Lock S2 •EP10 •Nagi & Reo
character: kiyoomi sakusa (timeskip!sakusa)
word count: 865
warning(s): angst-ish to fluff, nothing explicitly stated about the timeskip, soft moment with omi
content: when sakusa's own mind is his worst enemy, you are his deliverance.
a/n: this idea has been in my head for WEEKS.
The mixture of winter air and pure exhaustion crept into Sakusa’s bones, chilling him to the core. He let out a weary sigh, grateful for his mask providing a little warmth for his face.
Despite being known as one of the best and most powerful players in the volleyball world, there were rare moments where his mind was his most formidable opponent; where the small monsters of insecurity and fatigue ate away at his psyche until there was nothing left. His usual stamina that he’d always been praised for was gone—his body now in autopilot mode and running low on fumes. Weighing him down like one-ton bricks, lethargy flooded his being and caused all his thoughts to flatline, devoid of energy.
As he opened the door to his apartment, nothing seemed more appealing to him than a shower and twelve hours of sleep. However, his body barely even had the strength to walk himself through the doorway and set his bag down, let alone stay awake long enough to shower, force himself to eat, and walk to his room for bed.
“‘Omi?” your sweet voice called from the kitchen. His half-lidded eyes fluttered closed with a sigh of relief, his body feeling slightly recharged just from knowing you were there.
He trudged into the kitchen and leaned his head against the doorway as he watched you cook with your back to him. He observed how your hips casually swayed in time with the soft music playing in the background, listened to how you hummed along to your favorite parts. Focusing on you breathed some life back into his body, especially after such long and arduous days apart from you.
You eventually looked back, sensing Sakusa’s presence in the kitchen. “Long week?”
All he did was nod with drooping eyes, barely registering that you removed his mask. “You’re freezing, ‘Omi,” you gently chided, slipping your hands into his to warm them up. Looking into his onyx eyes, you saw something foreign swirling within them, and you reached up to his face, running a gentle thumb over his cheek.
“What’s going on?” you asked with a voice barely above a whisper, as if you’d scare him away if you spoke any louder, “You look so troubled.”
He quietly nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, his hands moving around your body to bring you close. The sudden physical affection was unlike Sakusa, but you welcomed it all the same. He reveled in your embrace; your arms were his sanctuary, always open to rescue him from himself.
“I’m so tired,” Sakusa’s words slurred into your skin, unfamiliar with feeling so raw, so vulnerable, “of everything.”
And that was what led him to now: him, standing undressed as you drew a bath.
The hot water slowly brought relief to his aching muscles and frigid bones as he slowly immersed himself in the bathtub. He let out a sigh, his head dropping back as he allowed himself to finally let go of the week’s stresses. You sat beside him, squeezing out a generous amount of his shampoo. He opened one eye, silently asking what you were doing.
“Please, let me take care of you,” you requested, moving to kneel behind him, and he gave a small nod.
With the scent of lavender flooding his senses and the feeling of your hands in his curls, Sakusa’s mind went silent once again, but now for a much different reason. The serenity of your touch, the comfort of your presence, was his salvation. His body was no longer cold, like a corpse, but felt warm, thawing from the rays of sunshine that beamed from your soul.
Your fingers slowly massaged his scalp, making sure to do your best to knead his troubles away. You leaned in to the shell of his ear, whispering, “Is this okay?” He gave another small nod in response, his eyes now fully closed.
With a small smile, you continued washing his hair for several minutes longer, hoping your actions were at least a little relaxing.
But you didn’t see how you practically revived Sakusa’s frozen heart, how you brought color back into his face. You made him feel at peace, leading him to believe that true love was real—that love was meant for him too.
What on earth did he do to deserve you?
“Thank you,” he whispered, slowly surrendering to sleep, “I love you.” His eyelids were so heavy, his words barely coherent. He didn’t even realize he said it: those three powerful words.
As you rinsed out his hair, you couldn’t fight off the smile that made your face hurt or the blush that made your cheeks burn scarlet. “C’mon, let’s get you to bed.”
While snuggling in your shared bed, Sakusa relished the heat of your body against his. With a soft gaze, you looked up and took his face in your hands. You leaned in, your lips grazing his forehead: one kiss on each freckle. Breathing in his lavender scent, you contentedly sighed, “I love you too, ‘Omi. Goodnight.”
Sakusa knew that no matter what freezing darkness tried to overwhelm him, you—his dayspring—would always be there to shine his way back home.
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