Title: Decision
Couple: 1886 - HibaHaru.
Summary: Sequel to 'Aspiration.' Perhaps a ring would suit her.

"Love me."
Only that.

Author Note: I'm always half asleep when I write for these two. Forgive my incompetence. orz

It was not often many dared to say Hibari Kyoya was a kind man, nor chivalrous. He wasn't a necessary evil, and he wasn't exactly an ally, but there was an established sense of justice and respect that remained wherever he drifted. The solitary cloud bound by nothing - that was his existence, one not even purely belonging to the title given to him: tenth Vongola cloud guardian. This reputation alone kept him safely secured away from the crowds he so detested. Well, that and the tonfas that gleamed quite dangerously at his sides.

What he didn't count on, however, was the fact it had not been enough to keep her away.

Through most of the time he graced the decimo's presence, the petite brunette in the background had only served to be just another herbivore - background noise. Her repetitive cries of "Tsuna-san!" and "hahi!" had become melded into the commotion that was the Vongola just as much as the words "tenth!" were cried out, and just as surely as Hibird sang the Namimori anthem to him every noon before his nap.

That had been all she was then, and all she had been even when she confessed to him, a nervous baby bird with flustered cheeks and trembling lips as she stood before him in the High School halls, wearing a uniform that didn't belong and hair clips that clashed with the color of her vest. His ignoring her should have done the trick; from what he'd seen of her, she was fragile and held a fickle ideal of "love." The tears had fallen as he anticipated, little droplets hitting the tiled floor as he strode away… but her resolve, he found himself observing the very next day (the next two years), had not fallen quite nearly as fast - determination and affection and the will to fight shining in dewy brown eyes as she stubbornly declared, "I won't give up on you, Hibari-san!"

No, she'd never done as he expected - and now, with her nestled against his side peacefully, dreaming a pleasant dream (he could tell; the subtle curving of her lips, the way she pressed herself closer - her body had become a map he'd memorized long, long ago), he could not deny she was far more than background noise. She'd forced herself between the small crack in his heart, and had burrowed there, showing no signs of planning to leave. That was just fine with him, now. It hadn't been initially; he had been uncomfortable with the sudden intrusion of his privacy, of his freedom. But even drifting clouds were not meant to be alone, not destined to be condemned to solitude. The sky was vast, and creatures of all kinds charted it.

She was by no means a carnivore, but she wasn't a herbivore either. Perhaps a unique blend: something specifically Haru. Perhaps a petite little thing, like Hibird, with a booming voice and a heart too large.

("… just because they're small, doesn't mean they're weak.")

And while the thought brought some level of amusement, the contemplation slid away from him as sleepy mumbles left her lips. Cornflower hued eyes locked on to his lover's sun kissed skin, taking in the pretty features. Bite marks littered the column of her throat, courtesy of his own teeth and version of, "I'm home." She never asked where he'd come from, and he never asked why she was up at two in the morning. It was their own personal ritual, and while he never quite showed it to her (to anyone) it was something he treasured. The feel of her skin, of her warmth, had become as natural as the feel of cold steel grasped within his hands. Like home, like the walls of Namimori where no room or hallway was not memorized.

Slender hands clenched tighter to his shirt, and his thoughts were shattered once again, just as much as they would be had she been awake. Sometimes her silence is louder than her words, he noted, not without amusement. Unlike Kyoko, Bianchi and even Lal Mirch, Haru's hand was void of any sort of ring. There was no sealed promise. There was nothing binding their lives together other than the shared breaths they breathed when they kissed or lingered in her bed. She never asked it of him; never hinted or nudged or even indicated the desire. Come to think of it, she had never asked for much of anything from him.

"Love me," she had breathed, tears dripping down her cheeks as her hands trailed through his hair. She was feeling him, breathing him; he felt suffocated, enclosed, not in complete control. He felt completely hers, and he wasn't sure if he liked it yet.

Only for that.

He didn't miss her daydreaming gazes, however. He didn't miss the sad touch in her eyes when she every so often caught glance of her best friend's diamond. He wasn't sure if it was the sentiment or the item she desired, or even if it was merely him she wanted in entirety. Vaguely, he wondered if she had as many questions about him as he did about her. He couldn't, wouldn't, ask her just as she couldn't (wouldn't; was far too scared to even think it anymore) ask him.

Hibari watched her give a small stretch, flopping away from his side to curl up to her left, back facing him as messy brown locks flew about. Dedicated mumbles of cakes and middle school traditions passed through her lips, leaving him clueless and not entirely certain if he did want to know.

He contemplated leaving then, as was yet another of their traditions, his body always absent from her bed (her home, her life) in the mornings and sometimes several days afterwards. But then she shivered, curling into herself, catching more than his eye this time around as she shook. Those bare fingers were clenched into the sheets, seeking something warm to hold on to, but finding only emptiness. She made a small noise of distress.

Is she always like this? A thought, laced with guilt and something akin to confusion. He couldn't understand, couldn't relate. He wasn't sure when he had sat up, but he found himself reverting back to his position on the bed, long legs swinging back upon the mattress and slipping between the gap near her knees while he dragged the blanket back over them. His arms wound themselves around her, one large hand encompassing her own as he buried his face into her neck. He let out a puff of hot breath, easing her shivers while the tickle of his ebony locks caused a smile to stretch across her lips. His thumb trailed the palm of her hand idly as he was lulled into slumber, thoughts dwindling until only one remained.

Perhaps a ring would suit her. Hibari Haru. It didn't sound too bad.

Sleep found him easily.