Not Interested // Shuntaro Chishiya

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You've never been a closed-off person.
Never one to stray away from something out of your comfort zone.
Never really cooped up inside your home when you could've been out with friends.

You're adventurous for sure, liking the thought of going out and trying new things, picking up a new type of dance style every few years, going to parties to meet new people.

Hell, you enjoyed the adrenaline.
You liked the slight nerves you got when presenting a speech or project, the flipping of your stomach the first time you drank alcohol in your sophomore year, only a year under the legal age limit.

You liked it.
But, fuck, you did not enjoy this kind of adrenaline.

The adrenaline that makes you sweaty, your nerves going through the roof. The adrenaline you felt by getting shot was not the anxiety you wished to ever have again.

Cause this sucked.
The pain flaring everytime you took a breath.
The cold sweat that dripped down your neck and collected at your forehead.

Chishiya reassured you that it hasn't gotten infected, that it was just fine. He even restitched it — a few huffs and annoyed phrases here and there, but he was careful.

He hesitated when you winced, muscles tightening as the skin pulled together. Careful hands wrapped your stomach in bandages, even giving you a lollipop he found whilst searching for supplies.

You accepted it with a wink and a "thank you, Doctor."
He rolled his eyes at that.

But you couldn't lie, if this kind of adrenaline meant more time with him, you wouldn't pass up the chance.
As corny as that sounds.

"Are you okay," Chishiya asked. His gaze fluttered to yours, then back to his food — the 99 cent ramen was the best you both could stumble across.

"I'm okay," you said, though shifted when you took too deep of an inhale, spreading an uncomfortable warmth across your abdomen. "How long till I'm back to before I was shot?"

"Few weeks," he muttered, catching your jaw drop from the corner of his eye. He quirked his lips.

"There's no way I'm surviving like this," you said groaned, but you smiled, almost in disbelief. "At least I'll be done with this world."

Chishiya shook his head. "You're not going to die."

He would not let you die.
He'd take care of you.
Till then end of his life, knowing damn well you'd survive longer than him.

After you had passed out, he managed to get you somewhere safe, a corner hidden away from preying eyes, just a short walk from a convenience store.

With a grunt, he had set you down and pressed his cardigan to your wound, ceasing the blood from pouring out. Once fixed up, he sat back and admired you.

Your resting face, the way your eyelashes fluttered like you were dreaming, the small breaths you let out, the instinctive twitch to your fingers.

Shit, he had thought to himself. If he were in your shoes, there's no way he would have made it as far.

Running as far and a fast as you had, with a wound no less, he would've dropped dead moments in.

But no, you stayed strong.
Continuing on even as your legs gave out, your breath not quite reaching your lungs.

He replayed the stress in your face, the gritting of your teeth as you pushed your body past it's breaking point.

You had a will to live, more than he's ever seen.

Yeah, he was smart, he could get himself out of sticky situations. But he wasn't strong, he wasn't fast, he wasn't able to run with a goddamn gunshot wound like you.

You amaze him.
You and that stupid smile of yours.
The grin that made his brain short circuit, the slick and sarcastic words of his getting caught in his throat.

"Never thought you to be someone who stares."
You catch him off guard, eyes locking with his, then his lips, and back up to his eyes.

His gaze flicks away, red rising to his face upon being caught looking at you. He couldn't help it, you were beautiful.

In his eyes, he had only you.
And he prayed to god, you had only him.

To avoid the topic of his nonstop glancing, he cleared his throat. "We'll stay away from the King of Spades, give you time to rest."

Looking out the nearby window, his eyes narrow, scanning the skies and the blimps that decorate it. "The Jack of Heart's is closest."

At his words, you sit back in your chair, smile dropping into a malicious, questioning smirk.
"Going to break my heart, Shiya?"

He chuckles, the corners of his mouth quirking just enough to see through the shadows.

"Never."