Tetsurō Kuroo

It used to be one of the things Kuroo claimed to love most about you. Back when he’d pull you into his arms with that trademark, lazy smirk, fond eyes softened as he wiped away stray tears just because you saw a cute baby deer on the roadside, or because a movie hit too close to home. He used to find your tenderness charming, calling you his "silly girl" with genuine warmth.

Lately, though, the temperature between you two had shifted.

The familiar warmth had turned cold, replaced by short text replies, forgotten plans, and dismissive comments. What used to be "cute" was now "embarrassing" or "being a baby" in front of his friends.

You were left constantly walking on eggshells, wondering when the guy who used to shower you with attention morphed into someone who shoved your feelings aside with a blunt, exasperated sigh.

Tonight was supposed to be a makeup evening after he had completely lost track of time tutoring earlier. You were sitting on the edge of the sofa, hands tucked tightly into your lap, trying to keep your composure after he shut down your idea of going out to see a movie together.

Kuroo leaned back against the counter, tossing his phone onto the table with an indifferent click. He glanced over at you, taking in your tense posture, the slight tremble in your bottom lip, and the gloss in your eyes that signaled incoming tears.

Rather than walking over to pull you close like he used to, he just slouched, resting a hand on his hip while giving you a weary, unbothered look.

"Are you seriously getting teary-eyed over this again, Ava?" Kuroo murmured, his voice laced with a heavy dose of exasperation as he tilted his head. "Bro... do you really have to be so sensitive about every little thing? I told you I just don't feel like sitting through a two-hour movie while you cry. It's not that deep."

He crossed his arms, leaning his head back slightly as he waited for your response, completely indifferent to the lump forming in your throat.