I Was Literally Gasping And Giggling While Reading Y'all Oml - Blog Posts

This is so beautiful, literally got me smiling and blushing at 3am. Please read this 😔

COMFORTABLE SILENCE.

🫧 SUMMARY; — kozume kenma and gn!reader have a status quo to keep! only glances, only pining, yep, yep, nothing more.

🫧 WARNINGS; — none! just super fluff if you don't have a sweet tooth.

🫧 WORD COUNT; — 1309.

🫧 AUTHOR'S NOTE; — i love kenma. that's all!

please let me know what you think! -` ♡ ´-

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | final pt.

his hair fell into his eyes; dark strands slowly transitioning into blonde at the tips. even though the hair must be in his vision, those eyes of his were sharp. they always reminded you of the gaze of a predator. he wasn’t looking at you, yet as always, you felt a certain energy buzz around your skin at the watchfulness you could feel radiate off him. as if he was thoroughly and exceptionally aware of every fibre on your body.

kozume kenma did end up blowing the stray tangle of hair out of his way, “mhm, this level’s annoying.”

you looked away from your book again — it seemed like you couldn’t keep your eyes off him for more than a few minutes. he shifted a little on the couch, and his knee brushed yours by accident. ever so slightly. 

neither of you two acknowledged it, but your skin was humming at the contact, and a certain blush unfurled on your neck. a tinge of pink dusted the tip of his ears, and you tore your gaze away from him to the words swimming on the page in front of you.

you nodded at his words, your throat slightly dry and you peeled your tongue off the roof of your mouth, and despite not being done with the page you were reading, you turned to the next one, anyway, “must be an intense one. you haven’t looked so concentrated for the past ones.”

kenma glanced up to you, even though he had complained about having to time his attacks perfectly to be able to parry his opponents, but just as swiftly — lest anyone could accuse him of always getting distracted by you — his eyes wandered back to his console. 

for a while, there was only the noise of the clock ticking in the background, the boss music of kenma’s game, a page being flipped, the couch squeaking when somebody displaced their weight differently, slow breathing. you enjoyed those moments with him, when neither of you had the need to talk; basking in each other’s presence, warmth at the almost contact between both of your arms, a graze of skin, the sheepish glances stolen when neither one of you were looking.

“i like when it’s like this, you know?” you ended up muttering, quietly, almost to yourself, “when it’s quiet.”

“yeah. i get that.”

silence enveloped you both again, though not for too long.

kenma pressed the menu button, and the boss music dimmed into a muted version of itself. surprised, you looked up from your book, though you couldn’t even remember the last sentence you had just tried to pronounce in your head. your eyes met those of his, and he stared at you for a second, completely unabashed; the very golden of his iris growing smaller. your chest felt tight at the beat of your heart growing stronger, the centre of his attention. his throat bobbed and you half-expected him to say something, soft voice carrying words that meant something, but then his head lowered and his fingers were quick to return back to the game. 

you forced yourself to restore to the status quo, tearing your eyes away from him, even though your blood was rushing a thousand miles per hour through your ears, even though your breath was shaky when you exhaled quietly. you could swear that the air got a little heavier this time around, like a pause on your fragile friendship, teetering on the edge of unspoken sentences; potential large and unused in your hands.

you contemplated saying something, fingers creasing the edge of the page, eyes staring at the words, following the curve of the letters, wondering and yearning.

“...you’re here a lot lately,” when he spoke, his voice was soft, hesitant, hands caught in the automatic movement of trying to clear the level.

your own fingers stilled, and then you nodded, one shoulder heaving up defensively, “yeah. i like it here.”

“me too. it’s interesting.”

he responded quickly, like somebody who knew the answer to a question and didn’t bother to wait with the reply. like a fact, he said it and you couldn’t help it — glancing up to him, memorising the lines of his side profile, the soft curve of his nose, those watchful, scrutinising eyes of his, the brush of his lashes on his cheeks when he blinked, the slight twitch of his eyebrows at the concentration. he was pretty. kozume kenma was so pretty.

trying to evade your thoughts of painting him on your mind’s eye — the way you had done a thousand times during each and every moment you could lay your eyes on him — you allowed a small smile to grace your features.

“what is?”

kenma copied you, a swift meeting with golden attentiveness, and his voice seemed even smaller than before. his hand tightened around the console, and he cleared his throat, “you. i don’t know — you’re always here. always around. it’s...comfortable.” he was silent for a second, and he shifted again. this time, his shoulder grazed yours. warmth. again, it wasn’t acknowledged, but the small proximity felt different, “not everyone is, you know.”

you closed your book slowly — no chance that you could get any reading done anymore, “well. that’s good, because it would be impossible to get rid of me now.”

another stretch of silence passed between you, and it felt like something unnamed was lingering between you, a breath away from existing. kenma paused his game again, and now neither one of you had an excuse to divert your attention. except kenma really was a master at it, so he was still looking down, but your skin prickled; a cat playing coy yet giving the mouse all his utmost attention. 

his fingers scratched the skin next to his nail as he admitted, “not impossible. but…” — a quick lick of his dry lips — “i don’t want to...i guess i’m used to it now.”

he glanced up to you again, “i guess i don’t mind it.”

you were sure he could hear your heart beating for him, that he would still be able to discern the thunder of the muscle even if there were construction workers right next to you stealing the air and all its promises away. now it was your turn to clear your throat, and the music of the boss fight returned to its full volume. 

slowly, you got up, and though you weren’t going anywhere, his body turned slightly, following yours, a certain longing clear in the tautness of his shoulders that relaxed as soon as you spoke, “i don’t mind it either. i think i’ll get some water. you want some?”

“nah, i’m good.”

“okay then.”

you were about to leave for the kitchen, when you turned around, swiftly, not leaving him any space and chance to react, your heartbeat galloping through your entire body and carrying you along with its nonsense. an action that you were sure to embarrassedly mull over on the walk to the kitchen, but that grasped you with such conviction, you feared that you were not the owner of your own body anymore. 

a light kiss onto his cheek. lips meeting soft skin, his hair brushing your cheek, the surprised widening of his eyes, the gold darting over to you, but by then, you had already turned around to hurry away for some water. 

kenma wished he had said yes to your offer because his throat dried up instantly. thankfully, you also missed the very deep tulip red that rose from his neck, to his cheeks, to his ears; the hair on his neck rising in attentiveness to how close you had been, the feeling of your mouth, the residue of warmth on his cheek.

in the neighbouring house, kuroo tetsurou’s phone chimed once.

from: kenmaaaaaaah raaahhhh sjkhfdjd=(jdhfh”k hf ?????????? H EL PpPP