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You sometimes wonder what it is like to be tall, to be up high, to be able to look down at others.
But having to look up to meet others’ eyes does not stop you from intimidating tall jerks—you even caught a certain tall jerk’s eye.
You and Kageyama had been together for exactly a year. You went to the amusement park to celebrate.
You had been here since morning, and the nauseating rides had been taking a toll on both of you.
Kageyama stepped off the rollercoaster ride, dizzy in his steps.
“M’lady,” he says, putting out a hand for you to take. He thought you must had been dizzy in the ride too. Laughing as you unbuckled your seatbelt, you took his hand and stepped off.
You remembered Hinata telling you how Kageyama has become sweet ever since you came along. But patting your back, he has said Kageyama would always be the bitter jerk he was. And you, amid a giggle out of glee, agreed that he was still a jerk.
“Lucky for us,” Kageyama said, his voice not hiding the smirk on his cheeks. “You reach the minimum height for that ride.”
Sometimes, you wonder why you stopped growing. Kageyama surely always reminds you of your height. He may be a jerk, but you love how he never lets this small distance between your heads get in the way of kissing your cheek. And kiss your cheek, he did, although he had to slouch over a bit.
“Mean.” You lightly kicked his shins, but you swore that it would be heavier next time he mentioned your height. Your frown told him you were mad, but the shine in your eyes and playfulness in your voice told him otherwise.
“Shorty—” You kicked his shins again, harder. And he laughed—a smile, an expression that was not a glare.
Hinata was right: Kageyama is soft around you.
“That didn’t hurt you, didn’t it?” His smile was contagious. No longer were you able to subdue the smile that crept on your face.
Yeah, you had your reasons to be jealous of him. He not only was tall, he was also strong. Resilient. Muscular. But you didn’t let yourself think too deep about the last.
You were not jealous of him. You were in love with him.
But how you wished you were as tough as he now.
Night neared. One of the most romantic times of the day: watching the sun sink below the horizon, sky as pink as your cheeks. He probably thought that watching the sun from high above would make the moment much more sweet.
You agreed that you should ride the Ferris wheel last. You really had hoped that he would never ask. And yet here you are, hopping onto a Ferris wheel booth and thinking that you would never step back on earth. It was not even a booth—it was just a seat with a lap bar and seat belts. The structure itself was not very high, or at least, not as high as in the other parks you have seen but never ridden.
Kageyama knows you are tough, but he did not know you were afraid of heights.
You sat down on the left, with Kageyama on your right. Your cold hands clenched shakily onto the bar. You really made sure that your seat belt was really tight. Kageyama noticed how cold your hands were but thought it was just the cold autumn air making you cold. He held your hand. His hands were warm and big, although a bit rough from volleyball, but they provided you a bit of comfort from the thought of being stuck up high.
You yelped—the wheel started to move slowly. Slowly. Too slow for your concern. Too slow for your eagerness to go off the ride. You held his hand against the lap bar.
He was the one concerned now. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m okay.” The tremble in your voice told him the truth.
But it was not mere seconds later when you looked down and saw the shore beneath your feet that you yourself told him the truth.
“Oh my God!” You shouted. “Let me down!”
He was quick to find your hands (before they start to struggle against the lap bar), guiding them around his waist. You held onto him tightly as you shut your eyes shut.
“Don’t worry,” he said in a hushed tone so as to not frighten you much more. “I got you…”
“I got you.”
You shook against him. He regretted suggesting the Ferris wheel. He muttered to himself, “Ah.. fear of heights,” but you were too scared to listen to anything.
A few moments of silence, and a few moments of listening to metals squeaking against each other, and a few moments of listening to his calm breaths which stilled your own.
“Oi,” he began. “You should see this.”
He was still a jerk, but you thought that he did not mean to sound teasing. You would slap his shoulder if only you could remove your arms from him.
“Oi,” he said, a bit more gently. “You won’t fall. Trust me.”
You breathed heavily. Squeezing your eyes so tightly made your head ache. It took him a while to convince you to look.
“It’s okay,” he said again before you opened your eyes.
First, you saw a black wavy blanket with light emanating upon each fold—the ocean. Then, you saw the waters reflecting a distorted image—the reflection of stars on the ocean. Then, you saw the violet sky, the stars twinkling humbly against the lights from the city behind you.
Time ran by fast, and the sun already has sunk down. You realized you were on this ride for too long.
This moment for Kageyama was not much different from what he felt this everyday with you. To look down and see the beauty. To look down and see the sea softly dousing the sand in the strong crashing of waves. To look down and see waves of hair hugging the soft skin and flowing against strong fierce eyes. It was the perks of being tall.
You looked up to see a cloudless evening of a few countable albeit shining stars. It was like looking up at the eyes of a certain black-haired boy. You looked at him now, and he at you.
Yes, the landscape was beautiful, but it looked like nothing when you have each other to look at.
It’s not too bad being short after all.