Stuck in a Snowstorm
by Rhice

Disclaimer: CLAMP's
One-Shot

It was dark in the car. It was white and noisy outside, all anger and hullabaloo outside, with the howling wind rushing past the vehicle endlessly. I could feel the car quiver under the sheer force. I wondered idly if we were actually flying in the wind, high in the clouds.

But it was quiet inside. Silence sat uncomfortably between us. I wish it could get up and leave, its discomfort was infectious. I was painfully conscious of how still and stiff I was behaving.

I could hear him breathing softly. Each breath was falling off the edge of his lips, feather light. I wonder if he was sleeping.

As though he read my thoughts, he asked almost immediately, "We could switch on the light, you know."

"Never mind," I automatically replied, as though I was not bothering with our awkwardness. "We need to save the battery energy for the heater. Who knows how long this will hold out?"

I felt him turn back, facing forward. The heater whirred away.

"Are you hungry?" he asked again.

"Not really,"

"Thirsty?"

"Nope,"

"Are you—? Never mind," he finished quietly.

I turned my head to face him, "What?"

"Nothing,"

We were silent once again. Could he hear my heart thumping abnormally against my ribs? I hope not. Could he feel my rising heat? Embarrassed for being a little more than uncivil and much less entertaining. I pray not.

"I'm going to the back. There're some groceries from yesterday I haven't taken out. Tell me if you're hungry," he said suddenly again.

I shifted to the edge of my seat to allow him to climb to the backseat. After a few seconds, I sat back, sighing with relief he didn't notice my uneasiness. I felt myself release my grip on my skirt and relaxed.

The crackling of plastic filled the stillness. After awhile, I think, I could hear him munch whatever it was he had found. Smelt like chocolate.

"What are you eating?"

"Brownies," his mouth sounded full of it.

The wind outside was picking up. Wailing now, like dying cats.

"Any left?"

He didn't reply for a long while, and then, "Did you say something? I didn't hear you."

I moved to face him at the back. Except for I couldn't see him. Just black silhouettes of the backseat and his head against the whiteout of rear window.

"I asked if there were anymore brownies,"

"Oh," he rummaged about for a bit. "No, no more brownies. Sorry."

"Oh," I said, trying to block out the dull pangs in my stomach. I moved back into my seat. I heard the plastic ruffling again.

"There is something else though. But I don't know if you'll like it,"

"Chocolate?" I asked hopefully.

"Just tastes like it. Do you still want it?"

"What is it?"

"Wait. Give me your hand, so that I know where you are," he said. I stretched out my hand backwards. I felt him grappling it.

His cool hands moved up, as though searching. They finally came to my face.

I tried not tremble, aware of the goose bumps rippling down my arms and thankful I was wearing my long-sleeved knitted sweater.

"Where is it?" I asked nervously. I hope he wasn't going to pull a joke.

"Wait," his voice sounded nearer.

I didn't move. Suddenly, the shadow of his face was next to mine.

"Wh-What—?" I flustered, facing him.

He didn't say anything. I could feel those feather light breaths now. It was inching closer and closer. Was he going to—?

The next moment, his cool fingers were raking through my hair, freeing the ponytail.

"L-Li—?" I stammered. My face was lighting up and my stomach was clenching and unclenching apprehensively.

The fingers were now outlining my face, touching the tip of my nose, thumbs edging around my eyes, my brow. I closed my eyes, feeling his fingertips brush gently over and the distant pounding of my heart.

Hands rested on my shoulders, he blew a breath on my face. I smelt the chocolate in it. It startled me for awhile.

My eyes flew open. And I realized too late what he had meant by…

His lips were soft as he pressed them tentatively against mine. I was rigid; my eyes squeezed shut and I held my breath, quite unaware of how to respond.

"Mmph," his tongue nudged at the gap between my lips. I've heard of these before. Those French kisses that the Westerners seem to do a lot of, on and off screen.

The gap widened and the bitter-sweet taste of dark chocolate flooded my taste buds. Chocolate never tasted like this before. Never made my stomach fill up with fluttering butterflies, never made me feel so giddy and never made me feel like putty, all at the same time.

Relaxing slightly, my hands reached to touch his jaw line. He trembled slightly and we broke apart.

I breathed out, involuntarily, a low whistle; there was still a lingering cool, mint taste on my tongue. I was glad he couldn't see my blown away face.

We were still. He didn't move away. And then:

"Didn't I say it tasted like chocolate?"

"Yes… and mint. Chocolate and some mint," I added, trying to regain my breath.

"There're still some left…"

The cheek! I felt my face flush. Yet, he sounded a little nervous.

I smiled slightly to myself, thinking of my reply, "We could make it last the entire storm…"

Rhice's Rant

Typical plain, pure fluff I thought of while being butt cold in an air-conditioned room and my classmates ran around placing freezing fingers on everyone's faces. For a while, I found it mysterious that your face can be so warm in such cold settings. And then I realised, astounded at my stupidity, it's because we're warm-blooded mammals. But it's a nice sensation, anyways, when someone touches you with cool fingers.
I also thought of how people are in cars and it's extremely quiet. And when you move around, you can hear the folding of fabrics, the sound of denim scratching on the leather seats, the other person's quietest breaths, the gulps…
The narrator is Sakura. I've only just realised I didn't write in her name anywhere. Although, if you imagined someone else who wears skirts; it's all right too. Oh and don't ask why they were in a car. They just happen to be in there. Alone. Maybe he picked her up? They could go to the same university and were driving home for winter break.
I've never been kissed, so pardon me if it sounds ridiculously juvenile or just plain. God and kissy people knows what it's like I'm not particularly enthusiastic to personally find out though, so because it makes me imagine how it is, I might be able to come up with a thousand different descriptions.