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osamu’s car is a bright blue monstrosity, a groaning death trap with it’s jaws hinged open and ready to snap. it has a one out of four chance of starting on the first try and makes noises so odd and concerning that one can never be sure if it’s the engine or a feral raccoon family trapped next to the engine. so it’s a miracle then, that you’re able to fall asleep in the passenger’s side, with your cheek pressed against the cracked leather upholstery and a blissful expression upon your sweet features.
when you finally stir, the sky is already beginning to lighten with the promise of dawn, turning inky black into dusty blues.
“good mornin’, beautiful,” he says, smiling into the words. he whizzes by a sign that tells him kyoto is 128 km away and puts the information in his head for later; a reference point in case he needs it.
you mumble something incomprehensible and he tilts his head.
“didn’t catch that,” he replies, taking only a quick glance in your direction before turning back to the empty road. you know, safe driver and all.
“don’t feel beautiful, ‘samu,” you grumble, rubbing your cheeks with the worn sleeves of his old tokyo disneyland sweatshirt. it had originally been atsumu’s but he'd pilfered it sometime in their second year of high school and managed to get away with it. perhaps it was some kind of recompense for dealing with his twin’s shitty teenage attitude; a rare and quiet show of brotherly love. but then again, knowing atsumu, he probably just forgot about it.
“rest stop’s comin’ up real soon,” he remarks, reaching to lower the volume on the stereo. “we can get some breakfast and then get to kobe by lunch.”
“babe, aren’t you tired?” you mumble, stifling your own yawn. he almost has to avert his eyes because it’s just that cute. where was he again? oh yes, the road. not dying. can’t swerve into a ditch now.
“’m fine,” he lies a little. his eyes feel dry and heavy and he keeps trying to blink to remoisten them but he’s not sure that that’s working anymore.
“i can drive after breakfast,” you offer, wiping the sleep out of your eye. “you’ve been driving all night and i don’t want you to get sick when we get there.”
something warm floods his chest, filling him up so greatly that it begins to wash over his cheeks. he’s grateful that it’s still sort of dark out because he’s sure that he’s pinker than the butts of those hot spring monkeys atsumu had sent him a clip of over wechat last week. he hadn’t replied but he’d watched the video twice over.
and really, he doesn’t know why he’s so flustered by this of all things; this single act of kindness amongst the dozens you’ve shown him throughout the past year and a half. you’re too good for him maybe; too kind, too caring, too smart (you have a 3.9 gpa for god’s sake). he has a lengthy list in his head and he’s sure atsumu has an even longer one, but whatever.
he puts the thought away for later, rolling his shoulders as he readjusts his grip on the steering wheel.
whatever.
none of that matters now.
because he has you by his side. because the sky is that magical shade of lavender it only gets at twilight. and because the moment is just right and he’s not gonna let anything or anyone, even himself, get in the way of embracing it.
“i love you,” he says, clearing his throat as they pass by a silver hatchback.
gold spills over the horizon, casting light over the road ahead.
in the corner of his eye, he can see you turn to look at him with the beginnings of a bashful smile on your face.
“i love you too.”