symbiosis (my heart, your heart, our heart)
disclaimer: don't own Shugo Chara!
"Do you love me?" she asks one day, when they're both sitting idly outside of the school on terracotta benches.
She reclines gracefully, her legs neatly covered by her waterfall skirt, arms crossed over her plain white draped blouse with the school's logo on it. The uniform had certain parameters for customization, just as long as somehow one managed to iron on the logo.
Tired from dance practice, he sits, facing her, sipping from a water bottle. She observes that he sits just as elegantly as she does, albeit with his school books resting precariously on his leg, falling onto the bench, ruining the picture.
He notices her eyes on his posture and straightens up, pushing his legs together and clasping his hands onto his lap.
She is waiting for the chauffeur that drives her father's limousine to bring her to her father's modern five-bedroom house, while he is waiting for his sister to finish with the Literature Club.
Although, she has seen the manor which the Fujisaki clan calls home, and marvels at how they can call a twenty-bedroom mansion a modest dwelling barely fit for drivel or dirt.
He leans forward, tipping his head into his hands, and his eyes twinkle, while his lips take on the familiar smile, the one telling her how silly he thinks her.
She bats away the cover easily, and stares intently, daring him to say something wrong and provoke a fiery response.
"Do you love me?" she asks again, waiting for his response. The only tell of the anxiety that she feels, wondering about his answer, is the slight twitching of her small, slender hands.
His eyes dart down to the sudden movement, and as if in the blink of an eye, his gaze goes soft and he smiles halfheartedly, stands up, and crosses over to the bench, and sits down next to her.
For a second she's startled, but then she relaxes and shifts her foot so he may have more space to sit.
Around them, other students chatter mindlessly, droning on about meaningless drivel, but all she can look at is his face, all she can do is wait, dreading the words that she might not want to hear.
"That isn't an easy question," he says slowly, carefully - enunciating every syllable, his clear voice ringing out in the space between them, the musical undertone echoing in her ears.
Frowning, she arches her neck delicately, and looks along the carefully manicured driveway up to the school gates for her father's chauffeur. He's late today, she notices, but she doesn't really care.
She feels a hand on her shoulder, but she doesn't turn around to look at Nagihiko. She avoids his burning gaze, avoids the inevitable fluttering that she'll feel if she looks at him, really looks at him, without anything clouding her vision.
It must have been only seconds before his fingers released her thin shoulder, but to her, it must have been an eternity.
"No," she says coldly, and turns back around, immediately casting her gaze onto her lap, and saying nothing more.
The disappointment sticks in her chest, a heavy feeling that makes her feel hollow. She tries to shake away the fleeting sensation, but it remains there, weighing down her heart.
It certainly isn't an easy question. If it was, she wouldn't have to ask him.
"I'll see you tomorrow," she says abruptly, getting up to leave, stiffly gathering her things where they are scattered along the ground. She bends down to pick up a literature notebook, and feels another hand lifting it off of the ground.
For a second, she spins around and looks into his eyes, really looks into his eyes.
The fire in it scares her, so she drops her gaze back to the ground.
"Wait a minute, Rima," he says calmly, fighting to maintain his composure.
She is already gone.
