Itâs the seventh book in a row this man
has just returned past its due (way pastâlike, the more recent one is seven
months late). Kei stares at the due date written on the back of the book, at
the log on the computer, and then at the man. Who is leaning casually against
the counter with a grin on his face, as if heâs not adding more work for Kei
right at the last second before the library is closed.
âHave trouble keeping track of time, donât
you,â Kei says as he scans the book and puts it aside, typing into the program
because the book is, apparently, fifteen months late. Jesus.
Itâs not the first time Kei interacts
with this man, though usually heâs the one who starts it. Be it about the
weather (the weather) to Keiâs
sweater brand, this man is a champion in making Kei feel bad enough for the
lame attempt that heâs forced to reply. Kuroo Tetsurou, his computer says the
manâs name is. Not that he cares.
Kuroo Tetsurouâs grin gets wider at
this. âYeah, especially when somethingâs catching my attention more.â
There are a few things that make Kei question his life
decisions, the mistakes heâs made that put him in a certain questionable point
in life. Volleyball in general, as lukewarm as his feeling is right now towards
the sport, is one. Being in the same team as the Oddball Duo, is another.
Stopping when Kuroo and Bokuto called out to him in front of the gym is
certainly up there.
But nothing beats this
right here, being pressed against the wall by Levâs body, mouth firm against
his own. And, yep, thereâs tongue there.
Kei likes to think that heâs
logical and level-headed, so he doesnât know what possesses him to allow
himself to be in this position.
test 