"Miaka…MIAKA, open yer eyes!" I gently shook her, but the only response was her head lolling to the side. Damn it…I had to do something, she was counting on me. Heck, Tama was counting on me. There was no other way. Miaka had to live.
I leaned down, a blush rising to my cheeks. Tasuki of the Bandits, afraid of a kiss? I scoffed at myself. It wasn't like I was really kissing her…With a shock, I realized Miaka was becoming paler. Before I could dissect it more, I leaned in, quickly placing my lips on hers in an effort to give her the air she so desperately needed.
I'd never kissed anyone before, even to save their life. I found myself wishing that I could have her. That I could have what she and Tamahome had. I let my mind take me away.
I'd be the one by her side, the one she came home to. Her sweet skin could be mine, and I'd be free to love her. I'd love her, and she'd love me. It was as simple as that. But, yet, not as simple. I'd be mocked and ridiculed, but I didn't care. Her carefree smile would welcome me into our modest home and her warm arms. I'd be gentle, more gentle than I ever was in my life.
At night, the weight of her body on mine and her breath on my skin would lull me to sleep. We'd wake the next morning, alive and refreshed, and her eyes would sparkle as she leaned in for a kiss. I'd try not to grimace as she made me her taste tester, the little idiot never thinking that as the cook, she should really be the first to taste.
I'd smile as our first child scampered after a dog, watching Miaka shade her eyes as she warns her not to get too close. The cold nights could be spent indoors, under the covers, the warm ones out under the starry sky.
If I had met Miaka first, we could have fallen in love. It could've been me.
Her arm twitched, and my eyes opened a slit, selfishly continuing to kiss her. Her lips move against mine hesitantly, and I stayed for a few more seconds.
I pulled away, putting a hand to my lips.
For just a few seconds, I knew what it was like to be loved.