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CONSIDER gakuen au where dazai and chuuya have been in love with each other since GRADE SCHOOL but they aren’t friends and have no mutual friends, so they have to yearn from afar
and they both believe the other doesn’t know they exist bc they don’t exist in the same space
and they both believe the other doesn’t know they exist bc they don’t exist in the same space
like Chuuya’s on the soccer team, so he’s friends with all the jocks and Dazai is on student council and hangs out with Kunikida, Yosano, and Ranpo, so their paths don’t particularly coincide.
they aren’t in the same classes either, so there’s no chance of them interacting
they aren’t in the same classes either, so there’s no chance of them interacting
so they see each other in the hallways, Dazai goes to all of Chuuya’s games under the pretense that he /has/ to be there for student gov, and Chuuya always lingers near the council classroom so he can just glimpse Dazai leaving
neither of them have the courage to talk to each
neither of them have the courage to talk to each
other because they don’t wanna risk hearing “oh, what’s your name again?” or “sorry, do I know you?”
and it’s just utterly /painful/, because none of their /friends/ even know about their crushes, since all they’ll get is “oh, I’ve never seen you talk to him before?”
and it’s just utterly /painful/, because none of their /friends/ even know about their crushes, since all they’ll get is “oh, I’ve never seen you talk to him before?”
and neither Chuuya or Dazai are up for explaining their awful, terrible crushes because—
how does Dazai explain that this boy touched his hand at a park and made his heart race?
how can he explain the tender touch of his scars, the scalding blue eyes that firmly said,
how does Dazai explain that this boy touched his hand at a park and made his heart race?
how can he explain the tender touch of his scars, the scalding blue eyes that firmly said,
“Your scars don’t matter. You are still Osamu.”
how can he put into /words/ how much that meant to him? (he can’t, he’s tried and never could.)
because people see Chuuya as a school star, a friend, a classmate, but Dazai can only see Chuuya as his angel, his saving grace.
how can he put into /words/ how much that meant to him? (he can’t, he’s tried and never could.)
because people see Chuuya as a school star, a friend, a classmate, but Dazai can only see Chuuya as his angel, his saving grace.
and how does Chuuya explain the way he felt when that small hand, smaller than his and wrapped tightly in bandages, fit so neatly into his own?
how does he explain butterfly spring warmth in his chest when this boy, this /stranger/, found him when no one else would, and told him
how does he explain butterfly spring warmth in his chest when this boy, this /stranger/, found him when no one else would, and told him
“I know you’re never alone, but if you ever feel like you are, please know I’ll be here whenever.”
how does he explain /that/, that squirming tinge of emptiness tucked away in the corner of his heart, and how it’s only filled when he sees that boy, /Dazai/, smiling so discreetly
how does he explain /that/, that squirming tinge of emptiness tucked away in the corner of his heart, and how it’s only filled when he sees that boy, /Dazai/, smiling so discreetly
in hallways, like he has a secret he won’t tell?
how does Chuuya explain him?
how does Dazai explain him?
it’s not a crush, it’s not simple infatuation, it’s—
it’s more than that, more than /them/, and it exists only in the quiet cohort of their heart that refuses to speak.
how does Chuuya explain him?
how does Dazai explain him?
it’s not a crush, it’s not simple infatuation, it’s—
it’s more than that, more than /them/, and it exists only in the quiet cohort of their heart that refuses to speak.
i want you, it insists softly, barely heard by the ear. i want you, over and over again because you have saved me in a way that I can’t explain and I never will.
but dazai is terrified. chuuya is scared.
and they pine from afar. no one knows a thing. no one even catches a hint.
but dazai is terrified. chuuya is scared.
and they pine from afar. no one knows a thing. no one even catches a hint.
(and there are those moments, those so fleetingly brief glimpses of something that could be—
the ones where Chuuya looks and finds Dazai watching him from afar with the fondest smile one his face.
the ones where Dazai’s hand brushes Chuuya’s arm in the hallways, and they both
the ones where Chuuya looks and finds Dazai watching him from afar with the fondest smile one his face.
the ones where Dazai’s hand brushes Chuuya’s arm in the hallways, and they both
stop to look at each other, hearts rattling in their empty cages and pleading, yearning—
touch me, touch me, come closer, love me.
and they keep walking.)
those are the ones that could be, until they aren’t and they both look away.
(it’s not meant to be. not this lifetime.)
touch me, touch me, come closer, love me.
and they keep walking.)
those are the ones that could be, until they aren’t and they both look away.
(it’s not meant to be. not this lifetime.)
it comes to a halt on graduation day.
they’ve spoken less than fifty words to each other the whole year, and yet—
something knots in dazai’s chest when he grips his diploma and watches chuuya get herded off with his soccer team for dinner.
something twists in chuuya’s stomach
they’ve spoken less than fifty words to each other the whole year, and yet—
something knots in dazai’s chest when he grips his diploma and watches chuuya get herded off with his soccer team for dinner.
something twists in chuuya’s stomach
when he catches dazai looking wistfully at him, like there’s something between them that they’ve missed.
(maybe there was.)
and he opens his mouth, impulsive and determined and wondering and just (wanting you, wanting me) hopeful, but—
“Oi! Chuuya, we’re gonna lose our seat!”
(maybe there was.)
and he opens his mouth, impulsive and determined and wondering and just (wanting you, wanting me) hopeful, but—
“Oi! Chuuya, we’re gonna lose our seat!”
he closes his mouth and when he looks at dazai, he’s already walking away. maybe it’s for the best.
(maybe it’s not, but it’s not like you’ve talked to him at all this year anyways.)
Chuuya looks back at Tachihara and yells, “Coming!”
(he runs to catch up and looks back only
(maybe it’s not, but it’s not like you’ve talked to him at all this year anyways.)
Chuuya looks back at Tachihara and yells, “Coming!”
(he runs to catch up and looks back only
once. dazai is walking down the sidewalk by himself and he looks solemn, hunched over and so alone.)
(what he doesn’t know is that if he looked, just one second earlier, he would’ve seen dazai looking at him too.)
and life goes on.
—
dazai lands a cushy job at a classy office
(what he doesn’t know is that if he looked, just one second earlier, he would’ve seen dazai looking at him too.)
and life goes on.
—
dazai lands a cushy job at a classy office
in a big city where no one knows his name. amongst the tide of endless people, he is nameless, nobody, nothing.
he lives day to day, never paycheck to paycheck, and finds himself in an empty penthouse overlooking the cityscape.
it’s comfortable. (it’s missing something.)
he lives day to day, never paycheck to paycheck, and finds himself in an empty penthouse overlooking the cityscape.
it’s comfortable. (it’s missing something.)
it’s on a whim Dazai books a weekend ticket back to his hometown of Yokohama (because there’s nothing for him in his nameless city where he does not matter).
his arrival home feels fuller. the train platform feels just a little more livelier than the streets where he lives, even
his arrival home feels fuller. the train platform feels just a little more livelier than the streets where he lives, even
if they aren’t as crowded. (home, this is home.)
Dazai spends his weekend wandering: in and out of candy shops he loved as a child, taking trains to the end of town and back, pacing the bay where the water gleams just as brightly as the sky.
quiet, fulfilling, and he wonders
Dazai spends his weekend wandering: in and out of candy shops he loved as a child, taking trains to the end of town and back, pacing the bay where the water gleams just as brightly as the sky.
quiet, fulfilling, and he wonders
what would’ve happened if he stayed.
(and for a brief, split second moment, he wonders where chuuya is now.
is he happy? is he married? is he in love with someone else? does he live here still?)
(do you remember me?)
dazai doubts it. he hasn’t spoken to chuuya — properly —
(and for a brief, split second moment, he wonders where chuuya is now.
is he happy? is he married? is he in love with someone else? does he live here still?)
(do you remember me?)
dazai doubts it. he hasn’t spoken to chuuya — properly —
since childhood. in Chuuya’s brilliant, lively, beautiful life, Dazai doesn’t even make a blip in his lifetime.
(oh, but he does, he does.)
something nudges his ankle and he blinks down, peering at the brightly colored beach ball.
“Oi! So sorry, that’s ours!” A child, followed
(oh, but he does, he does.)
something nudges his ankle and he blinks down, peering at the brightly colored beach ball.
“Oi! So sorry, that’s ours!” A child, followed
by a young, lithe figure races his way. A tiny girl is at his knee, small hand tugging at the hem of his shirt.
“Mister! Can I have my ball back?”
“Aya, don’t talk to him like that, be polite—“
Red hair flashes in his vision and Dazai’s eyes snap from the girl to the young man
“Mister! Can I have my ball back?”
“Aya, don’t talk to him like that, be polite—“
Red hair flashes in his vision and Dazai’s eyes snap from the girl to the young man
in front of him.
/Speak of the devil./
There’s a sheen of sweat across his brow and loose red hair is falling out of his ponytail, but the breath is knocked away from Dazai’s lungs and it’s like seeing him for the very first time.
Sure in the grand scheme of things, he’s dated
/Speak of the devil./
There’s a sheen of sweat across his brow and loose red hair is falling out of his ponytail, but the breath is knocked away from Dazai’s lungs and it’s like seeing him for the very first time.
Sure in the grand scheme of things, he’s dated
people, but nothing, no one, compares to the way he feels about Nakahara Chuuya.
(He swears he got over him.)
(Looking now, it’s so obvious he didn’t.)
His name balances on the tip of Dazai’s tongue and his mouth opens, forming the words he’s waited years to say—
“Dazai?”
(He swears he got over him.)
(Looking now, it’s so obvious he didn’t.)
His name balances on the tip of Dazai’s tongue and his mouth opens, forming the words he’s waited years to say—
“Dazai?”
Nakahara Chuuya tilts his head, eyes wider than the sky, and his heart perishes.
(he knows my name, he remembers my name, why does he still remember—)
“You-You’re Dazai, right? We went to the same high school?”
(and junior high and grade school and we met at a park even before
(he knows my name, he remembers my name, why does he still remember—)
“You-You’re Dazai, right? We went to the same high school?”
(and junior high and grade school and we met at a park even before
we went to school together, and I fell in love with you for the first time—)
“You remember me?” he croaks and god, dear /god/, Chuuya’s got this blush across his skin that rivals the pink of the sunrise at dawn.
“I—would it be weird to say if I could never forget you?” Chuuya’s
“You remember me?” he croaks and god, dear /god/, Chuuya’s got this blush across his skin that rivals the pink of the sunrise at dawn.
“I—would it be weird to say if I could never forget you?” Chuuya’s
fiddling with his shirt, suddenly looking unsure, and Dazai doesn’t remember how he could ever be in love with someone else.
(He feels 18 again, 8 again. He feels like a teenager again, yearning and dreaming and praying for Chuuya to glance his way.)
(Ten years, twenty years
(He feels 18 again, 8 again. He feels like a teenager again, yearning and dreaming and praying for Chuuya to glance his way.)
(Ten years, twenty years
later, he finally does.)
(Ten, twenty years later, they finally look at each other the same way.)
“I know we didn’t really talk that much so I get if this is totally awkward, but I just thought—I maybe—“
“Chuuya.”
Chuuya looks at him, cheeks flushed and eyes flitting around
(Ten, twenty years later, they finally look at each other the same way.)
“I know we didn’t really talk that much so I get if this is totally awkward, but I just thought—I maybe—“
“Chuuya.”
Chuuya looks at him, cheeks flushed and eyes flitting around
like he’s lost, like he’s scared.
(He is, he is. He feels 18 again, he feels 8 again, and he’s only dreamt of this moment for so long that it’s surreal it’s happening ten, twenty years too late.)
(Is it too late? Because his name sounds as perfect as he imagined from Dazai’s
(He is, he is. He feels 18 again, he feels 8 again, and he’s only dreamt of this moment for so long that it’s surreal it’s happening ten, twenty years too late.)
(Is it too late? Because his name sounds as perfect as he imagined from Dazai’s
lips when he was a teenager.)
/Say my name again./
“Chuuya,” Dazai repeats, voice timbre low, raspy and so /heated/ that it warms his skin. “I remember you. And—“
(Oh, he was so much more than just a blip in the timeline of his existence.)
“I could never forget you either.”
/Say my name again./
“Chuuya,” Dazai repeats, voice timbre low, raspy and so /heated/ that it warms his skin. “I remember you. And—“
(Oh, he was so much more than just a blip in the timeline of his existence.)
“I could never forget you either.”
(and they are eighteen again, catching glimpses of each other through a crowded hallway, except now they’re twenty-eight and finding each other on the shore of Yokohama Bay.)
(and Dazai recalls how he only sees a blur of faces every day, but Chuuya’s is the only one he remembers
(and Dazai recalls how he only sees a blur of faces every day, but Chuuya’s is the only one he remembers
crystalline clear, like they’ve only met a few moments ago.)
(and Chuuya remembers being empty even though he’s surrounded by everyone he knows, but with Dazai in front of him, it’s like the world has righted itself once again.)
Aya tugs at Dazai’s shirt, oblivious. “Hey Mister
(and Chuuya remembers being empty even though he’s surrounded by everyone he knows, but with Dazai in front of him, it’s like the world has righted itself once again.)
Aya tugs at Dazai’s shirt, oblivious. “Hey Mister
can I get my ball back?”
/Right,/ there is a child.
Then—
Oh /fuck/, there is a child.
Dazai’s head spins. Is she Chuuya’s, does Chuuya have a family now, is he too late—
“Y-Yeah, here you go, kiddo.” He pushes the ball into her hands with a shaky smile. “All yours.”
The
/Right,/ there is a child.
Then—
Oh /fuck/, there is a child.
Dazai’s head spins. Is she Chuuya’s, does Chuuya have a family now, is he too late—
“Y-Yeah, here you go, kiddo.” He pushes the ball into her hands with a shaky smile. “All yours.”
The
girl beams. “Thanks!”
Without waiting for Chuuya, she races off in the opposite direction towards a small group of kids in the far-off distance.
Silence descends upon them and Dazai wonders if he should ask. (He wants to, he’s spent so many years not asking.)
“Is she yours?”
Without waiting for Chuuya, she races off in the opposite direction towards a small group of kids in the far-off distance.
Silence descends upon them and Dazai wonders if he should ask. (He wants to, he’s spent so many years not asking.)
“Is she yours?”
Chuuya blinks rapidly. “Aya? /God/, no, I’m not—“ He clears his throat. “I’m not with anyone right now.”
/Halle-fucking-lujah./
“Then—“
“I’m a kindergarten teacher.” Chuuya gestures helplessly to the kids in the distance. “Decided to take them out for a bit, and you know. They
/Halle-fucking-lujah./
“Then—“
“I’m a kindergarten teacher.” Chuuya gestures helplessly to the kids in the distance. “Decided to take them out for a bit, and you know. They
get rowdy and messy, but...” A fond smile toys on his lips and Dazai /shatters/.
(He’d long cut his heart into tiny slivers, only giving pieces to those he deemed worthy, but there never /was/ anyone.)
(No one but Chuuya, for whom he’d shatter his heart a million times over.)
(He’d long cut his heart into tiny slivers, only giving pieces to those he deemed worthy, but there never /was/ anyone.)
(No one but Chuuya, for whom he’d shatter his heart a million times over.)
“They’re worth it.”
(You’re worth it, this is worth it, and it’s ten years so late, but please—)
“I didn’t think this would be the route you’d take, Mr. Soccer Star,” Dazai quips and Chuuya /laughs/.
(The sound he’s only heard from a distance, in his dreams, for so long and it
(You’re worth it, this is worth it, and it’s ten years so late, but please—)
“I didn’t think this would be the route you’d take, Mr. Soccer Star,” Dazai quips and Chuuya /laughs/.
(The sound he’s only heard from a distance, in his dreams, for so long and it
is more perfect than he ever imagined.)
“Yeah, me neither.” Chuuya grins at him, looking shy and sheepish all at once. “Honestly, I didn’t know what I wanted to do early on, but I loved kids and I was always good with them, so...” He inclines his head to the group. “I became a
“Yeah, me neither.” Chuuya grins at him, looking shy and sheepish all at once. “Honestly, I didn’t know what I wanted to do early on, but I loved kids and I was always good with them, so...” He inclines his head to the group. “I became a
teaching assistant and now I’m here.”
(And now, they are here. And now, they’ve found a way to face each other and hope that /maybe/, they aren’t too late.)
“That sounds really nice,” Dazai says softly. “You make a great teacher.”
Chuuya’s cheeks darken. “Thank. And you? What
(And now, they are here. And now, they’ve found a way to face each other and hope that /maybe/, they aren’t too late.)
“That sounds really nice,” Dazai says softly. “You make a great teacher.”
Chuuya’s cheeks darken. “Thank. And you? What
do you do?”
/I breathe. I exist. I survive. I don’t remember the last time I felt anything other than exhaustion./
“Office job. Pretty cushy, but...” Dazai shrugs idly. “Leaves a lot to be desired and nowhere near as exciting as kids.”
“Ah, I see. It...” Chuuya hesitates,
/I breathe. I exist. I survive. I don’t remember the last time I felt anything other than exhaustion./
“Office job. Pretty cushy, but...” Dazai shrugs idly. “Leaves a lot to be desired and nowhere near as exciting as kids.”
“Ah, I see. It...” Chuuya hesitates,
/It suits you,/ is what he plans to say.
(He doesn’t know Dazai, but he already feels that it doesn’t. Dazai, quiet and brilliant and beautifully curious, is wasting away.)
“Does it make you happy?” he asks instead.
(Are you happy where you are? Did it feel good to leave?)
(He doesn’t know Dazai, but he already feels that it doesn’t. Dazai, quiet and brilliant and beautifully curious, is wasting away.)
“Does it make you happy?” he asks instead.
(Are you happy where you are? Did it feel good to leave?)
Dazai’s smile: tired and listless, is answer enough. “It pays.”
(Where did your spark go? Does that prodigy genius still exist? Does that quietly funny boy still reside with you?)
(Are you still the same boy I remember from my childhood? Do I want you to be?)
(Chuuya has all
(Where did your spark go? Does that prodigy genius still exist? Does that quietly funny boy still reside with you?)
(Are you still the same boy I remember from my childhood? Do I want you to be?)
(Chuuya has all
questions he never asked from before. Years worth of them, twenty years to be exact.)
He exhales steadily, heart crowding in his throat like there’s a wave and nowhere else to go but drown.
“Dazai.”
“Yes?”
“Do you...” He licks his lips. “Do you remember when we first met?”
He exhales steadily, heart crowding in his throat like there’s a wave and nowhere else to go but drown.
“Dazai.”
“Yes?”
“Do you...” He licks his lips. “Do you remember when we first met?”
(Dazai does, how could he forget? It’s one memory that stuck to his skin for as long as he remembers. How does one forget their saving grace?)
(Chuuya couldn’t forget it, even if he tried. It’s stained on his skin like a watercolor painting, permanent and ornate and heart
(Chuuya couldn’t forget it, even if he tried. It’s stained on his skin like a watercolor painting, permanent and ornate and heart
thundering. How does one forget the person who made them whole again?)
“At a park,” Dazai rasps. “You told me that I was still /me/, scars and all.”
/You made me feel beautiful, when I believed I was a ruin./
“And you told me you would never let me feel lonely again.”
“At a park,” Dazai rasps. “You told me that I was still /me/, scars and all.”
/You made me feel beautiful, when I believed I was a ruin./
“And you told me you would never let me feel lonely again.”
(He succeeded. Twenty years with the bare minimum of conversation, and the feelings Chuuya’s harbored for each second of the day had made him feel complete.)
(This is why I could never forget you.)
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Are you lonely still? Were you lonely then?”
(This is why I could never forget you.)
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Are you lonely still? Were you lonely then?”
Chuuya offers a half shrug and a feigned smile. “Not back then. A little more now.”
(Because I spent my teenage years, comforted by the fact that you were so near, but now I spent the last ten years wondering if you still remembered my name.)
“And you?” Chuuya replies. “Do you
(Because I spent my teenage years, comforted by the fact that you were so near, but now I spent the last ten years wondering if you still remembered my name.)
“And you?” Chuuya replies. “Do you
feel like you aren’t yourself still?”
(Ever since you told me I was still me, I’ve never had to question if I was beautiful.)
“No. I am very much me.” Dazai spreads his hands. “You made me feel like I belonged.”
“And you made me feel like I could live fully and completely.”
(Ever since you told me I was still me, I’ve never had to question if I was beautiful.)
“No. I am very much me.” Dazai spreads his hands. “You made me feel like I belonged.”
“And you made me feel like I could live fully and completely.”
They look at each other then (and they don’t ever want to look away again).
(Chuuya wants to beg him to stay.)
(Dazai wonders if Chuuya would let him linger, for just a little while longer.)
/For I feel complete with you, and I only want to know if you feel the same way./
(Chuuya wants to beg him to stay.)
(Dazai wonders if Chuuya would let him linger, for just a little while longer.)
/For I feel complete with you, and I only want to know if you feel the same way./
“How long have you felt like this?”
Dazai shrugs, wondering if his words are as pathetic as he feels. “Since we first met. I always wanted to know you since, but...”
/I was scared. I didn’t know if you wanted to know me as much as I wanted to know you./
“I was scared too.”
Dazai shrugs, wondering if his words are as pathetic as he feels. “Since we first met. I always wanted to know you since, but...”
/I was scared. I didn’t know if you wanted to know me as much as I wanted to know you./
“I was scared too.”
Chuuya shrugs, hoping he doesn’t look as desperate as he feels. “I wanted to know you so badly and I spent so much time thinking about how we’d meet again—“
“—but we never did,” Dazai finishes. “Yeah. I spent so many hours dreaming about my first words to you—“
“—if we’d click
“—but we never did,” Dazai finishes. “Yeah. I spent so many hours dreaming about my first words to you—“
“—if we’d click
as well as did in my thoughts—“
“—if you’d look for me during yours games in the stands—“
“—if you’d notice me lingering by your council room and you’d stop and talk to me—“
“—if we’d end up in any of the same classes that year—“
“—if we’d have an accidental meeting in the
“—if you’d look for me during yours games in the stands—“
“—if you’d notice me lingering by your council room and you’d stop and talk to me—“
“—if we’d end up in any of the same classes that year—“
“—if we’d have an accidental meeting in the
hallways during break periods—“
“—if our friends ended up being mutual and introducing us to each other—“
“—if I’d get on the same train with you after school—“
“—if I could just say ‘good morning’ to you before classes—“
It could go on. And it does, they both know it could.
“—if our friends ended up being mutual and introducing us to each other—“
“—if I’d get on the same train with you after school—“
“—if I could just say ‘good morning’ to you before classes—“
It could go on. And it does, they both know it could.
(There are years wasted in between the shared split moments of contact, conversations that never happened tucked in the dreams in their days and nights.)
(And they think—)
“If only I had the bravery to introduce myself first.”
“If only I said good morning on that first day.”
(And they think—)
“If only I had the bravery to introduce myself first.”
“If only I said good morning on that first day.”
It’s so bittersweet now, at twenty eight and looking at the person they’ve loved for so long, at the best friend, boyfriend, husband, partner, /soulmate/, that could’ve been twenty years ago.
(If only I took that chance.)
(We could’ve been happy now.)
(I could’ve been yours.)
(If only I took that chance.)
(We could’ve been happy now.)
(I could’ve been yours.)
(I could’ve been holding your hand right now, basking in the sunlight and talking about how we wanted each other since we were eight.)
(I could’ve kissed you on the cheek and laughed and called you every name in the book — “angel, darling, sweetheart, only love of my life.”)
(I could’ve kissed you on the cheek and laughed and called you every name in the book — “angel, darling, sweetheart, only love of my life.”)
(We could’ve been here, visiting home and reminiscing on first dates and first kisses and the first meeting that started it all, that made me love you, want you so viscerally and painfully it almost scared me out of loving you.)
(Or, we wouldn’t have.)
(Or, we wouldn’t have.)
(Maybe we wouldn’t work out. Maybe I would’ve learned that you have a temper, or that you’re possessive, or that we’d argue over every single little thing along the way.)
(Maybe we wouldn’t be talking. Maybe I wouldn’t be wishing on you like I do every night. Maybe we’d have
(Maybe we wouldn’t be talking. Maybe I wouldn’t be wishing on you like I do every night. Maybe we’d have
learned that we aren’t soulmates,that we weren’t meant to be together.)
(But the only thing that we know now is—)
(—I regret not taking that chance.)
(I regret only dreaming on you, wishing that by some miracle, the cosmos would shove us together and we wouldn’t have to try.)
(But the only thing that we know now is—)
(—I regret not taking that chance.)
(I regret only dreaming on you, wishing that by some miracle, the cosmos would shove us together and we wouldn’t have to try.)
(But instead—)
(And now—)
We are here. So—
“If it’s not too late, do you want to take a chance on me now?”
(I am done with having dreams. I only want to know how it feels to have you.)
A smile. “Only if you think we can make this work.”
“Better late than never.”
(And now—)
We are here. So—
“If it’s not too late, do you want to take a chance on me now?”
(I am done with having dreams. I only want to know how it feels to have you.)
A smile. “Only if you think we can make this work.”
“Better late than never.”
(And yes, we’ve wasted years on fruitless daydreams, on wishing, on hoping, on waiting for the opportune time, instead of wondering about what we can do /now/, but—)
(—I want start living now, if only you’ll live right next to me.)
(—I want start living now, if only you’ll live right next to me.)
[ end ]
to the lovely person reading this: if you got this far, this is your reminder to to live, and to not waste your days because it might only happen once.
we are alive, so tell them you like their hair. tell them you think they’re cute. take your chance and don’t regret.
to the lovely person reading this: if you got this far, this is your reminder to to live, and to not waste your days because it might only happen once.
we are alive, so tell them you like their hair. tell them you think they’re cute. take your chance and don’t regret.
i based this whole thing off seeing my ex crush in the car next to mine, except this never happened, so uhh yeah have my bittersweet suppressed romance gn ilu
if you need more encouragement: I’m fucking terrified of living life and talking to people too, but yk yolo and fuck it lmaoooo
