Sobbing And Throwing Up - Tumblr Posts

Jammer: How much time y’all need?

Sam: What are we doing?

Jammer: Getting Evan back.

Sam: I don’t need any time.

Jammer: All right. K?

K: Yeah, let’s go.

Sir, that’s my emotion support kpop boy

tw: hints at underage drinking

Sakusa Kiyoomi would never admit it, but you're his best friend.

When people look at the two of you, he sees the lingering question of "how are they friends?" and he understands, he really does.

He's aware he's not an easy person to get along with: he's prickly and hides in corners and glares at anyone who comes close, but you never seemed to care.

You came along one day, plopping down next to where he was standing (at a secluded corner during a party), turning to look at him and ask, "mind if I sit here?"

And because despite the fact that he doesn't like people in general, he also had his ridiculous pride which made him want to prove to Komori that he could make friends on his own.

So he let you, and the rest was history.

So when he wakes up to his phone vibrating like crazy at 2 am one night and sees that you called him—called him 17 times to be exact—he's never dialed your number so quickly in his life.

"Omi?"

And his heart breaks along with your voice.

"What happened?"

He hears you breath shakily, hears the faint rustling of the sheets as you sit up, and he hears as the tears start falling.

"They broke up with me."

"Oh," is all he can say, because despite the fact that you're falling apart on the other side of the line, he can't help but feel relieved, knowing you will never have to cry over that asshole ever again.

"Yeah," you say. "It's okay. I wasn't what they wanted anyway."

Sakusa wants to correct you, because he knows you're all anyone could ever want: loving, kind, loyal to a fault. Anyone except your ex, apparently. "They must be stupid then."

You giggle, sniffling a bit. "Maybe so."

Silence falls, but Sakusa decides silence is better than your cries. He sits there and wonders how to make you feel better when he's so far away.

"You know what the worst part is?" you ask after blowing your nose. "I can't even call them my ex. We weren't anything ever but it was everything to me. What am I supposed to do with that?

We were close, and for a moment they were almost mine but they gave me absolutely nothing to hold on to."

You're crying again, and Sakusa takes a deep breath. "I don't know," he admits. "I don't know."

-

You wake up to the sound of your phone falling to the floor.

You groan, rubbing your eyes (they sting like hell), and squinting at the clock. 10:47, it blinks back at you.

Your phone is dead, so you plug it in and make your way to the kitchen. The house is dead silent, a good thing because your head is still pounding from last night—how shitty of your ex to break up on you on fucking Christmas of all days.

How in character, you suppose ruefully.

Your memory from last night is hazy; you clutch at your head in pain while you serve yourself a glass of water. You remember arriving, their smile at you as they said, "you look amazing." There were quite a bit of people there last night, someone had offered you a cup of something, and then another, and then another. You remember an image of your ex's eyes hovering over yours, the warmth of their breath fanning over your lips as you lean in and nearly- nearly kiss them.

And you remember hearing them admit to someone that they never cared for you, that it was all a stupid dare and they were getting bored.

Your mind goes back to the four months you spent together, and all the nearly kisses you had.

You gulp down the water, grip tight around the glass. Omi was right, you sigh. How annoying.

Ah shit, Omi.

You dash back to your room where your phone lay abandoned and you huff impatiently as it takes forever to turn on.

You have 3 unread messages from - Omi 🤮

Omi 🤮: Hey are you feeling better?

Omi 🤮: y/n?

Omi 🤮: When you're done moping about that damn fool text me, okay?

You no longer feel bad about making him stay on call with you at that ungodly hour.

You're mean, you respond. Jerk, you add for good measure.

The response is almost immediate.

Omi 🤮: You're alive

Omi 🤮: I was starting to get worried

This boy-

Omi 🤮: How do you feel?

Your angry reply dies as you fall back on your bed with a huff.

you: Like shit

Omi 🤮: Have you eaten?

Your stomach grumbles and you grimace.

you: I'm on it rn i swear

He doesn't respond, so you let your phone plop next to you on the bed. Then it starts ringing.

"You're not 'on it' or anything, you liar."

"Oh my god, what are you a creep"

He chuckles. "Just go get food. You'll feel better."

"Okay, okay, you're so annoying," you put him on speaker once you reach the kitchen.

"You're the annoying one here."

"Whatever," you laugh as the cereal falls into the bowl. "You love me anyway."

"Hmph," is all he says, and you laugh again, imagining him scrunch up his face (like he's constipated, you snort), like he always does when he doesn't want to admit he cares.

"Are you still gonna come?"

"Why wouldn't I?" you ask. "I gotta be there to support my bestie, my bff, my partner in crime-"

"Stop," he groans and you laugh again. "I just figured you'd be too busy moping about that loser."

"I am not moping," your grin falls from your face and he snorts.

"You woke me up at 2 am last night because you were moping."

"I just got my heart broken; jeez Omi, can't you be nice to me for two seconds," you groan. "I was gonna apologize for waking you up but since you're being an ass about it now I won't."

"You love me anyway," he repeats your previous words back to you, and you wish you were there to wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," you roll your eyes. He hums, and you sigh.

He says nothing else, letting you eat your cereal, a more somber mood settling between you both.

"Thanks," you eventually say. "I mean it."

He hums again.

"Love you." And seeing the 6:34:27 long duration of the call, you know he does too.