Work Text:
You watched as the tall man scrunched his nose at his textbook, seemingly trying to intimidate it; his glasses were balanced on the bridge of his nose and his hands were on either side of his head, covering his ears as if that would help him absorb the material in the textbook better.
His forest hued eyes were focused on the textbook so intently, you thought they might suddenly emit lasers and burn a hole in it. You read the title on the spine of the book: Anatomy of the Human Body.
The library was already pretty noisy, so the scraping of your chair across the hardwood floor didn't make much of a difference; the man looked up at you in confusion and slight annoyance, removing his hands from either side of his head and parting his lips to protest.
"May I?" You prevented him from uttering any protest and gestured toward the Anatomy book. He let it fall flat on the table and straightened up, nodding his head as if challenging you to efficiently explain the material to him. "You're in Anatomy 101 with Krumpkins aren't you?"
"Yes, that man's inability to teach baffles me." He answered, his tone laced with a hatred for his professor. You chuckled and slid the textbook closer to you.
"I had him last semester. Passed the class with an A, by some miracle. You just have to attend his lectures, sit in the front, hang on literally every word he says, and try to get on his good side. I'd read the book before his lectures so if he said something that he never mentioned before, I'd know what he was talking about."
"That's smart. I wonder why I never thought of that."
"Because I'm a genius, and you, sir, are now my student. Now, what don't you understand?" You flashed him a smile that seemed to shake him to the core; he couldn't understand why this friendly girl, who was extremely intelligent, wanted to help him, of all people. He was the stand-offish tsundere that managed to put off almost everyone he met, an image of a laughing Takao flashed in his mind and he shook his head slightly to make his annoying best friend leave his mind.
"About everything." He joked dryly. You blinked at him and he cleared his throat. "Mainly, chapter 3--the material in the text doesn't add up to what Krumpkins teaches."
"Oh, I see. That was a tough chapter. Tough test, too. But he doesn't teach directly from the book. You've got to understand..." You dove into your own mini lecture on what chapter three and Krumpkins were both trying to teach, and the man with emerald hair listened intently, hanging on your every word and trying to contain his amazement at how intricate and concise your explanation was. Before either of you knew it, the library manager was coming around to the tables and warning of their closing in ten minutes.
"That actually makes perfect sense. You should teach the class instead of that man." He said, closing the textbook and returning it to his messenger bag. He pushed his glasses up with his index and middle fingers and you noticed that they were taped.
"Did you hurt your fingers?" You asked.
"No, I just like to keep the fingers on my left hand protected. Not a single factor can affect my shots."
"Shots?"
"I play basketball." He informed you. Your eyes widened in sudden recognition of the green haired man sitting before you--you just didn't recognize him out of his basketball garb.
"You're Midorima Shintarou, the precision shooter for our university's team, right?"
"Right."
"Amazing! I'm actually on the university's newspaper and I was supposed to interview you about the semi-finals sometime next week. I just never got around to looking you up. I'm y/n."
Midorima watched your lips as you chatted about your position on the school's newspaper and how it helped you to better understand the world around you and the way people perceive the things around them. He decided that he thought you were absolutely delightful--you were intelligent, kind, easy-going, and a critical thinker. Not to mention you were a treat to look at.
"Well, y/n-san," Midorima cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses once more, "I could give you that interview you wanted."
"Really? That would be so great."
"If you let me buy you a coffee." Midorima held his breath at his forward invitation. It'd just be coffee and an interview for the school newspaper, it's not like it would be a date.
"Alright, it's a date, then." You smiled. Midorima huffed inwardly.
"It's a date...I guess." He smiled at you the best he could manage, his lips and cheeks hurting in the slightest at the rarity of the motion.
"Here's my number," you ripped a corner off of a page of your notebook and scribbled some digits onto it before handing it to him, "call me so we can set up that date--I mean, interview." And before Midorima could absorb what you had said or what had happened, you were waving as you left the library. Midorima squeezed the small paper with your number on it and stared at it. He breathed deeply.
A date. Oh, would Takao love to hear about this.
Midorima sighed and straightened his cardigan in the reflection of the cafe's window. The window was dirty, and hardly reflective, but Midorima was too nervous to notice or care. Today was the day of you and Midorima's first date, and he resented the fact that his palms were sweating. He moved some hair from his forehead, wiped his palms on his jeans, adjusted his glasses, just kept fidgeting, fidgeting, fidgeting.
"Midorima?" A voice inquired from next to him. He turned to meet your gaze and smiled politely at you, slightly bowing his head.
"Good afternoon, y/n." He said, his voice slightly cracking and causing him to mentally flick himself in the forehead. "Anyway, should we go inside?" He cleared his throat and lead you to the door of the cafe, opening it for you and following you inside.
"You are quite the gentleman, Midorima Shintarou." You teased, grinning widely at him. Midorima's cheeks involuntary burned with a blush and his eyes widened slightly are your compliment, but even more so at your bright and beautiful smile. He didn't know what he was so nervous about--you were completely at ease and seemingly content with his company. If you didn't like him at least a little bit, you wouldn't shown up looking so delightful. He let his eyes wander over your form, your hair, and finally linger on your lips, which were curled into a polite smile. Then, he noticed your eyes, which were focused on him.
"Midorima? Hello?" You waved your hand in front of his face and he shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"Sorry, what?" He asked.
"I asked what you wanted to drink. I order a hot tea with a strawberry scone." You giggled at him a little while fiddling with your debit card. He put his hand over yours and pulled out his own card, insisting that he pay.
"I'll have the same." He told the barista. She handed Midorima the receipt and you went to find a table to interview him, and hopefully get to know him better. The two of you finally settled down in a booth, him sitting across from you and blushing every time his feet touched his.
You asked him about how he figured out he wanted to play basketball in college, how he manages to balance basketball with his vigorous studies in pre-medicine, and what he likes to do in his personal time. As the time progressed and your tea cups emptied, you realized that you weren't even writing any of his responses down neither were either of you on any relevant topic.
Unfortunately, a reasonably tall girl, whom you recognized from school somewhere, took it upon herself to interrupt the two of you and direct her attention onto Midorima. She even slid into the booth beside him and rested her hand on his thigh, while batting her eyelashes at him as she claimed she had followed his basketball career since high school.
"Are you flirting with me?" Midorima interrupted her low and sultry voice, cocking an eyebrow and curling his lips down into a seemingly judging frown. The girl stood up quickly, as if the booth had suddenly been set on fire, and shifted her weight from foot to foot and wrung her hands.
"Of course, why wouldn't I?" She answered, keeping her eyes focused on Midorima's emerald gaze. Midorima breathed out a wry laugh, shaking his head in utter disapproval.
"Can't you see that I'm here with my own beautiful lady? It's quite rude to flirt with her date right in front of her. Please apologize." Midorima demanded, his tone short and serious. The girl's face was set aflame by embarrassment as she rushed an apology to you and disappeared from the cafe.
"'My own beautiful lady'? What was that?" You teased, finishing off your tea and setting the cup to the side.
"Am I not allowed to compliment you? Besides, I had to make her realize how wrong it was what she was doing." Midorima hid his face behind his own teacup, realizing only then that he had somewhat claimed you.
"I agree, I don't think it was right for her to be flirting with my own handsome man." You smiled, which was an act you had seemed to be doing during your entire time with Midorima, and Midorima decided that he wouldn't stand by any longer while you weren't actually his own.
"I had a wonderful time today, y/n. I would like to see you again." Midorima said seriously, as if he was proposing his business plan to you. "And again, and again. I don't usually jump into relationships like this but--will you consider being my girlfriend?"
Your smile only grew wider and you nudged his foot with your toes and reached out for his hand across the table. He tentatively placed his hand in yours, and waited for your answer.
"No consideration needed. I would love to."