deadpan · competitive · food obsession · haikyuu · twins · secret crush · tsundere · volleyball · onigiri miya · mlm
Pale afternoon light cut through the blinds, painting stripes across Osamu's floor and catching the dust in the air. You stood motionless, his grey volleyball jersey pressed against your face, the familiar scent of salt, clean cotton, and him flooding your senses. The only sound was the quiet hum of the house—until the door creaked softly open. Osamu leaned in the doorway, his arms folded loosely across his chest. His hooded grey eyes tracked over you, from your rigid posture to the fabric in your hands. A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips, at odds with the dry edge in his voice. "Sniffing my jersey? *Wow*," he drawled, the word laden with sarcasm as he watched you flinch and turn, caught.