Every Little Lie | IwaOi

21. "ɪ'ᴍ ᴋɪᴅᴅɪɴɢ, ɪᴡᴀ-ᴄʜᴀɴ."

Iwaizumi was waiting; he was waiting for it.

Oikawa pulled his arm out of Iwaizumi's grip and leaned back on his palms, staring up at the night sky.

The brunette's words hung heavy in the air, weighing down on Iwaizumi and crushing his heart.

If he wanted to say something, he couldn't. His voice seemed to be caught in his throat, missing like the sun in a twilight sky. Instead he could only stare speechlessly at his beautiful, amazing soulmate and wonder when his skin will tingle with that prickly feeling that only happens whenever Oikawa lies.

He waited.

Oikawa let out a quiet exhale and turned back to face him. Iwaizumi stared at his soulmate expectantly, waiting.

Maybe Oikawa knew what he was waiting for or maybe Oikawa didn't. Either way the brunette's lips tugged upward ever-so slightly, almost bitterly, parting to say: "I'm kidding, Iwa-chan."

And there it was.

"Oikawa," he breathed sadly. The words were already appearing on his forearm. This time, the tingling felt like miniature stabs.

"Sorry for lying," said Oikawa with a small smile. "I couldn't help it."

This didn't comfort Iwaizumi any. Instead he felt like he was useless, not knowing what to say or do to make his soulmate feel better.

Perhaps Oikawa noticed his crestfallen face because the male swiftly got up and grabbed him. Surprised by the brunette's strength, Iwaizumi let himself get pulled up to his feet.

He stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do. Oikawa was still holding his arm. He raised a dubious brow at the brunette's sudden cheerfulness.

"What are you—"

"Let's dance!" declared Oikawa, throwing an empty hand up in the air. "Play some music!"

Iwaizumi frowned. "No. Let's talk, Oikawa, please—"

"After we dance!"

"Why."

The brunette pouted. "We didn't get to dance at the Gala, and I really wanted to."

He knew this was Oikawa's way of avoiding discussion. He knew that if he didn't step his foot down now and talk about it, he would never get the chance again.

"Oikawa, listen to me—"

The brunette grabbed his face, cupping his cheeks, pulling their faces together and effectively cutting of any words Iwaizumi was going to speak. He gulped at the proximity of their skin and froze, suddenly nervous.

"WHAT!" screamed Oikawa, right at his face.

He flinched back, startled by the loud noise. And then he slapped a hand over Oikawa's mouth and hissed, "It's the middle of the night, Shittykawa! You want someone to call the cops about a disturbance?"

A mischievous glint twinkled in Oikawa's brown eyes.

"Sorry, Iwa-chan," said the brunette slyly. "I couldn't hear you over the music."

"There is no music," he deadpanned.

Oikawa clicked his tongue. "Exactly, so play some."

And then the male strutted inside, leaving Iwaizumi out on the balcony.

He sighed exasperatedly but followed the dumbass indoors.

"Seriously, Oikawa, we should talk about this—"

"Shh," hushed his soulmate. "Do you hear that?"

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. "No, I don't hear any music, and no, I will not be turning any on."