Awake

A Princess Tutu fanfic by Klondike Aura


It's amazing how much difference the time of day can make. Eager, impulsive night has long faded to make way for sheepish, modest morning. The two figures in bed, completely covered except for the rumpled messes of their hair on the pillow, sleep contently side by side. Sweet slumber bid them apart from their previous embrace and dulls their senses with its temporary amnesia.

Ahiru wakes up first, her mind mystified by her unusual sleep choice of taking only half of the bed. Then she realizes she's not in her own bed.

"Fakir!" she hisses, fists clutching the sheets tight.

The young man next to her groans and rubs at his face with the palm of his hand. "What?" he murmurs, half-asleep. "What's the matter?"

Ahiru waits for him to turn on his side and face her. But she doesn't say a thing when he finally does, merely scowling with a blush.

"What?" he asks again.

"I'm in your bed," she informs him.

He waits for her to elaborate beyond the obvious but it doesn't come. Eventually, Fakir goes, "That's usually how it works, yes."

"But how are we-?" Ahiru starts again, pinning her arms to the sides to keep the covers modest on her. "How are we gonna get out of bed?"

"Idiot..." Fakir grumbles as he turns to lie on his back again. "Why does it bother you?"

"Because it's... It's just different..." Ahiru protests as she puts her hands together over her chest and toys with her fingers. "You go first."

"...no."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to yet," he says, turning away from her so she doesn't see the blush creeping over his face. "And anyway, you woke me up."

"But I have to get up and I don't wanna go first."

Fakir sighs through his nose.

"Fine, I'll just stay like this, though I don't understand why it matters," he says, hoping his voice wouldn't betray how much he does understand why it matters.

"O-okay," she accepts.

And then one of the sheets goes to Ahiru's side as she tosses her legs over to get up. Fakir turns to grab it.

"You said you wouldn't turn around!"

"I didn't think you'd steal my sheets."

"But I need something to wear!"

"Not the sheets, idiot. Find something else when I turn back again."

Ahiru huffs while Fakir takes the sheet back and lies on his side again. He feels it bunch up when she takes it off and he tilts his head just a little to peek, more an involuntary action from the shifting of the bed than anything else. His mind distracts him from her inviting shoulders and upper back with the thought that her braid needs to be redone before he turns away again. Then there's the soft rustle of clothing being pulled on and she stands up while completing the task of buttoning.

"Okay."

When Fakir goes on his back again, he's able to see Ahiru wearing his shirt. He sits up, the sheet sliding all the way down to his lap, as she goes over to the dresser .

"That's my shirt."

"My dress is on the other side of the bed," she huffs, folding her arms over her chest.

"But why are you going to my dresser if you're already wearing my shirt?"

"I still need something to wear underneath."

"And you can't go and get your own clothes for that, idiot?"

Ahiru puts her fists on her hips and tilts dangerously forward, the hem of Fakir's shirt hiking up to the top of her thighs. Fakir couldn't help but glance down and he was sure he swallowed audibly at the sight of her legs.

"I still need something clean to wear on my way to the bathroom."

"Okay, okay," he relents. "Just do it quick."

Not that she waited. She was already fishing for a pair of boxers after her declaration. Once she had them pulled on, she wasted no more time heading for the door and to the bathroom down the hall.

Alone in his room, Fakir gets up and makes himself decent at the dresser. Then he gets to the task of picking up what they left strewn on the floor last night. The memories crawl in as he gathers Ahiru's dress, his fingers now well-acquainted with the soft fabric. He had learned that, while the presence of Princess Tutu's grace may be gone, Ahiru's tenderness and love remained. He holds the clothes close to his chest for a moment while his thoughts linger there. A small, contented smile sits on his face.

"Oh, I was gonna get that," Ahiru says when she comes back.

She steps up to him and takes her dress back from his arms. Their proximity now dispels what remains of the awkwardness Fakir felt and he leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek. He softly laughs near her ear when she quietly quacks in response.

"You're ridiculous, moron," he whispers. "And troublesome. But you're worth every moment of it and more."

She gives him a soft shove and says, "You-you're always saying stuff that's so mean and so sweet at the same time!"

"Should I even bother reminding you that you came in here last night?" he asks, reaching to tuck a stray lock of red hair behind her ear. "You don't have to stay if I'm so mean."

"No!" Ahiru immediately protests.

Fakir has to fight to keep his face straight. He leans down again to brush his lips against hers and says, "Then bring a change of clothes next time."

fin