friday
6:02
—✧—

you sat on your kitchen counter, one leg propped up on a stool. you pointed out where the bandaids were, sending him rummaging through your cabinets. he came back with two boxes. you cleaned your cuts and bokuto put a large bandaid over them.

"thanks," you said quickly. he hummed, messing around with another bandaid. he turned around and stuck the bandaid on the bridge of your nose. before you could take it off, there was already a second one on your face.

"stop that," you grumbled, swatting his hand away as he made an attempt to put on a third one. you hopped off the island, wandering off to your room as you ripped off the bandaids. aimlessly, he followed you. you tossed the bandaids into your trashcan. you sighed, biting down on your lip as you shut your window.

"i should probably head home," bokuto muttered. you turned to see him fumbling with his coat before reaching for the door

"what, why?" you blurted out as if the answer wasn't obvious. you walked to the other side of your bed before sitting down.

"well you ... seem kind of upset ... so."

"no, well," you huffed. his eyes met yours before you could look down at your feet. your voice lowered and you frowned. "i mean, i'm not upset with you."

his shoulders dropped. "but you-"

"i didn't mean to sound so ... mean."

"it's okay," he reassured you.

"so can you? ... " you mumbled your words, tapping your feet against the bedframe without finishing your sentence. he still understood.

"sure." he took a seat next to you, folding his hands in his lap as he looked over at you. neither of you said a word for a bit. he was kicking his legs antsily while you refused to look anywhere but your lap. then, with a bit of courage, you spoke up.

"i'm sorry," you said softly. he looked over, his rapid movement failing to cease. plastered on his face was a look of doe-eyed innocence. his legs swung to a halt, before he looked, thinking.

he then asked, "for what?"

"for ... coming off so rude sometimes." you weren't an apologetic person, but something in you felt like it needed forgiveness. bokuto shifted around next to you.

"it's fine," he said.

"not really."

"it's really okay." his bouncy, agitated self, contrasted with you, who sat quietly beside him. another moment of silence passed. again, you broke it.

"and, uh, thanks," you said, sounding quite nonchalant. before he could ask again, you followed up with, "for trying to be my friend and stuff. it's ... cool." gently, you punched his shoulder.

he smiled, looking down at the floor. "it's nothing."

"no, it ... it means a lot," you ensured him. "it takes a lot of patience to deal with someone like me."

he looked cluelessly at you. he asked, "someone like you?"

hesitating, you said, "a jerk, sort of."

"you're not a jerk all the time," he said. you laughed a little. how reassuring. "you're still fun to be around."

you smiled, slowly nodding your head at his half compliment. "thanks."

to you, sitting there, alone with him, felt different. it was warm, slightly comforting, tolerable to say the least. you couldn't lie and say you didn't like it. it felt almost like you really were friends or whatever you'd call the two of you. it was nice. for once, you could rest easy with him next to you.

being with him felt so normal.