The next morning, you woke up groggy, and you immediately headed for the shower.

Thank goodness the rooms were en suite.

Showering seemed to rid any lingering remnants of exhaustion, and after slipping on a hoodie, you cautiously made your way to the kitchen.

Giyuu was already there, a cup of coffee in his hand and his eyes in a book.

His hair was slightly damp, strands falling over his forehead, and his expression was the same as usual.

"Good... morning," you greeted, hesitating by the counter.

"Morning." he replied, not even bothering to make eye contact.

Great.

You busied yourself looking through the cabinets, trying to find something light to eat.

The silence wasn’t exactly uncomfortable, but it wasn’t friendly either.

Just neutral and slightly awkward.

The fridges and cupboards weren't extremely full, so you ended up just grabbing an apple before disappearing back to your room.

You took an abnormally deep breath before setting your phone down to the side.

You still hadn't fully processed that he was your roommate.

And you weren't sure where you stood.

Well, you know where you stood with him.

But was it reciprocated?

You turned on your herel and marched back to the kitchen.

"We need to talk."

He looked up from his phone.

Eyes.

Pretty.

Giyuu blinked, his expression blank as he regarded you. "About what?"

You crossed your arms, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under his gaze. "About this. Us. Being roommates."

He tilted his head slightly as if considering your words. Then, in that same infuriatingly calm voice, he said, "Okay."

You waited for him to elaborate.

But he didn't.

Suppressing a sigh, you pressed on. "I just think we should set some ground rules so we don’t make each other’s lives miserable."

"Okay."

"I think we should set some ground rules. Respect eachothers spaces for a start. And basic communication. I don't want this to be weird or awkward all the time,"

Giyuu regarded you for a moment before nodding. "Alright."

You crossed your arms. "And no passive-aggressive silence. If something's bothering you, just say it."

He blinked. "I don't do that."

You gave him a flat look.

He took a sip of his coffee. "Not intentionally."

Close enough. You decided to let it slide. "And no, leaving dirty dishes in the sink."

"I don't."

"Good. Keep it that way."

He didn't say anything after that, and you took it as your cue to leave.

You were meeting your friends, and that was your priority.

-

"You're fifteen minutes late dumbass," Sanemi scowled.

You rolled your eyes, dropping into the seat across from him. "Good morning to you too, sunshine!"

"Overslept?" Shinobu asked.

"Not exactly...."

"Giyuu?" she asked again.

"How'd you know?"

"You look uncomfortably flustered,"

You opened your mouth, then closed it again.

"It's so awkward," you murmured.

"Like cute awkward or painful awkward?" Mitsuri asked before taking a bite of cake.

"Painful. He's so unresponsive to literally everything,"

Sanemi scoffed. "Well, holding conversations has never been his strong suit, has it?"

"I guess not,"

Mitsuri giggled. "Maybe he’s just shy!"

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Or maybe he just doesn’t care."

You frowned. That thought bothered you more than it should have.

"Maybe he's into it," Tengen shrugged.

"I beg your finest fucking pardon?!"

"It's fair assumption,"

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat as Mitsuri hinted to change the subject.

"Anywaysss are we all set for classes tomorrow?"

"More or less. I'm kinda nervous,"

"Don't be! You'll do great!" she reassured.

Fingers crossed she was right.

-

When you returned home the place was empty and you took the opportunity to make sure you were all set for tomorrow before crashing on the couch and turning on the TV.

You kicked your shoes off and curled up on the couch, grabbing the remote to flick through the channels. It was a small relief to finally have a quiet moment to yourself.

The year was going to be hectic.

Not just educationally, but also personally.

Weddings had the potential to be enjoyable, however the one that was taking place in 4 months wasn't exactly filling you with excitement.

The constant questions about your non existent love life from your incredibly nosy family was slowly becoming more insufferable.

God forbid you choose to focus on your career.

Just as you were sinking deeper into your frustration, you heard the front door creak open.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway and soon enough, the TV was paused and Giyuu was placing some things on the counter.

Was he....getting ready to cook?

The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, revealing his forearms and his hair was tied back and he seemed to be placing a pan on the stove.

"Tomioka..." you called out to him.

"L/n..." he echoed back.

"May I ask what you're doing?"

"Cooking dinner."

You raised a brow.

You hadn't exactly pegged him as the type to cook.

"What are you making?"

"Something."

"Something?"

"Yeah, something."

"If I can be of assistance at all let me know,"

"No thanks,"

Oh.

You leaned back into the couch, unsure of what to do with yourself. Part of you wanted to make conversation, to break through the silent tension, but another part figured it was just... better to leave him to his cooking.

He finished quickly before disappearing with the plate to his room and you decided to do the same.

You weren't hungry, but felt the need to do a bit of extra reading for the semester ahead.

You stood up, stretching out the stiffness in your muscles before gathering your things. Your bag was still packed from earlier, so you grabbed it and made your way to your room. The faint smell of whatever Giyuu had cooked lingered in the air, but you quickly shut the door behind you, trying to concentrate on what had to be done.

Though what was meant to be just half an hour, quickly turned into a couple of hours, and you had to force yourself away from your desk.

Not eating probably hadn't been the best idea. Your stomach rumbled in protest, reminding you that you had skipped out on dinner.

You glanced at the clock, realizing it was already late into the evening.

Lethargically, you dragged your feet back into the kitchen, feeling unusually lightheaded.

You poured yourself a glass of water before taking a slightly shaky deep breath in.

"L/n?"

Oh for fucks sake not now.

"Are you...okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Did you eat?"

"Doesn't matter," you murmured.

He stayed silent for a moment longer before speaking again.

"It does," he said, finally.

You let out a tired sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "I just got caught up with work. I'll eat in a bit."

He didn't respond right away, but you heard the sound of a cabinet opening, then the fridge. You glanced up just in time to see him setting a plate down in front of you. It was the food he had made earlier, now slightly reheated.

"Eat first," he said simply.

"...You’re not going to let this go, are you?"

He shook his head.

You sighed again, this time in defeat, and picked up the fork. "Fine. But if this sucks, I'm blaming you."

"Noted."

-

a/n: raw, next question.