Disclaimer: I do not own the series, the manga, or any products based on them. Poor me.
A/N: My first Karin fic. Of course it would be a drabble.
He's not thinking of the cold anymore. The elf suit isn't for wearing outside without a coat, but he's not thinking of that either. He's not even thinking about what his mother is doing. She seemed so sad last night talking of his father. And he is the one who asked her the question. "What was pops like?"
She looked at him in shock, and why wouldn't she? Kenta never spoke or asked of his father. In fact, any mention of the man usually drove Kenta out of earshot. Because he didn't want to hear it . Because it hurt too much. The funny thing is, he never called it painful.
He called it irritating. An honorless man had no place in his thoughts. Until now, but of course he's not dwelling on that either.
The tiny hand in his pocket that isn't his is painted on his brain. Karin's hand is no longer cold, although he's pretty sure the rest of her body is. She's tiny and should be susceptible to the frigid weather. But she's been a trooper and said the cold did not bother her, even though her elf suit is much skimpier than his. She actually gave him the mittens she's knitted for him as a Christmas present, without giving a single thought to the concept that she probably should be wearing some too. Unable to stand it, he took one mitten, gave the other to her, and then took her uncovered hand and shoved it into his pocket. He was blushing the whole time, and so was she.
He blushed because he knew it was a bold move. For all that, it was natural for him. This is what he does. He takes care of Karin. He takes care of her because her family thinks she can't take care of herself. He protects her because he made a promise. He protects her because he likes the lunches she brings him. Most importantly, he protects her because he finally understands the gravity of her situation, how she is always afraid. Of being discovered, of being ridiculed, or worse. Her grandmother has done a good job of hammering that fear into her heart. Among others. "Love between a vampire and a human can only end in tragedy," her grandmother had said.
He told her grandmother he didn't believe that. He still doesn't. Something in him was determined to prove the old woman wrong. For both Karin's sake and his. Because for all the trouble Karin thinks she cause for him, he knows it's easier for him to live with it than without her. Because she's taught him not to worry. She's taught him to enjoy himself. She's taught him to be happy.
Putting her cold little hand in his pocket was more than a gentlemanly gesture. It was an act of defiance and, amazingly, affection. His unspoken question to her. Will you stay with me?
Now he's still blushing because he knows what she thinks it means. And she's right.
All that he's thinking of now is how that tiny hand in his pocket has intertwined with his own hand, and when the time comes to go inside, how he'll manage to let it go. Even for a little while.