28. Miya Atsumu simp. Sakusa kiyoomi lover. Sometimes I write
Esp/Eng
Omi's chest rises in labored breaths. Atsumu's hands come away red.
Omi frowns, as if he found being shot was just mildly annoying.
"Shut up," Omi rasps. "My body moved on its own."
Omi's chest rises in labored breaths. Atsumu's hands come away red.
Omi frowns, as if he found being shot was just mildly annoying.
"Shut up," Omi rasps. "My body moved on its own."
Atsumu frees himself and quickly disposes of the ones still standing before going to Omi.
Atsumu frees himself and quickly disposes of the ones still standing before going to Omi.
"Come, Omi," he says, extending his hand in Omi's direction.
And Omi sighs, because they'll have to walk back home with damp feet and sand sticking to them. And yet, his lips draw a crooked smile despite it,
"Come, Omi," he says, extending his hand in Omi's direction.
And Omi sighs, because they'll have to walk back home with damp feet and sand sticking to them. And yet, his lips draw a crooked smile despite it,