Disclaimer: I don't own Princess Tutu.

They were kissing.

It wasn't something that hadn't happened before. In fact, he had kissed her many, many times before. Just never like this. He was pushing her into the bed. Not forcefully, but it was insistent.

"Ahiru," He moaned softly against the skin of her neck. The skin that had, not even a minute before, been lavished by his mouth. His talented mouth. His hot breath brushed her skin, it seemed to curl over it like a warm blanket.

"Hey," He pushed himself up on his forearms, still holding her small body down with his much sturdier one. He leaned down to nip her nose, making her blush despite the intimate actions she had performed not five minutes ago.

"What?" Her voice was soft and scratchy, she sounded meek, but he could tell when her eyes started to narrow that she was more irritated than meek. "Fakir," She glared and brought the hand tangled in his hair to push his shoulder.

"My parents," he glanced towards the door, his eyes clouding, "they come home today."

The disgust was evident in his voice, at least to Ahiru. Fakir hadn't held affectionate feelings towards his biological parents since he was child. He'd never told Ahiru why, and Ahiru wasn't overly curious as to the reason. Okay, that was a lie, she was incredibly curious. But, she knew that if he wanted to tell her he would. It wasn't something Fakir talked about casually.

She sighed and sat up. "Okay." Her eyes were downcast. Because Fakir was a senior he was able to spend less time with her than other boyfriends. Despite this, Ahiru didn't let it get to her. She knew better than anyone Fakir's affection towards her and she never took it for granted. It was time, it seemed, that she had. As the months passed Ahiru noticed Fakir spending more and more time filling out seemingly endless college applications and writing countless essays. It wasn't that Ahiru was so selfish as to say that Fakir had to spend all (or even the majority) of his time with her, but the building stress of applying to college plus the added factor of his parents returning would make Fakir very grumpy.

And that didn't bode well for anyone.

"Let me take you home." Fakir's soft voice jerked Ahiru out of her reverie and brought her back to the present. Her small hands had begun unknowingly clutching the soft comforter below her, and, despite Fakir's light tone he couldn't help but notice her distress. One of his calloused hands reached out to her to pull her off his bed and out of his organized room.

"B-but should you be here? I mean your parents--"

"Don't give a shit about me. Never have." He continued to tug her out of the room stopping only to pick up her school bag and shove his feet in a pair of shoes. Ahiru barely had time to slip on her own shoes before she was shoved unceremoniously in Fakir's very expensive Volvo. He prided in the fact that he had bought the car by his own hard earned money, not the money of his carelessly expensive parents.

The soft purr of the Volvo's engine lulled Ahiru into a sense of contentment and she leaned back into the leather seats closing her eyes. She jumped a little when Fakir's calloused hands wrapped around her own small one, but didn't open her eyes. Although, she did allow a small smile to light her face.

Fakir could be so gentle.

She couldn't tell how much time passed as they rode together in the car, his hand rubbing small circles on the back of hers, the light caress combined with the rumble of the engine pulled her into a light sleep. She felt like she was floating, slipping in and out of slumber. While the shadows of the late afternoon swiped over her casting an intermittent warmth over her face.

It wasn't until the soft lips she loved so much touched her cheek lightly that Ahiru opened her eyes to find herself home. Or at least the most recent place she called home. Being a foster kid she hadn't ever had one solid place to call home, so whenever she used the word Ahiru felt as if she was making a mockery of it. Sometimes though, she felt that being around Fakir, Rue-chan, and Mytho was what she was supposed to feel when she was 'home.'

"Time to wake up sleepyhead." The low timbre of Fakir's voice resonated pleasantly through the interior of the car, and Ahiru blinked her large baby blue eyes up at him. Only to shut them again in playful defiance.

"Mmmh. I don' wanna." She flopped on her side and snuggled into the leather seat, still holding Fakir's hand in her own. A light chuckle and the brush of a knuckle against her neck was the last touch she received before Fakir's hand slipped from her grip and he disappeared out of his car. She opened her eyes searching in vain for the lost man, only to jump when his hands brushed her sides and pulled her--bridelstyle--into his arms.

He walked her up the drive to the front door of the overly flamboyant house she currently called home and set her down gently. There was no exaggeration or outrageous motions, Fakir wasn't one for drama. He brought his hands up to cup her face gently, resting his forehead on hers. He looked her straight in the eye for a moment, before whispering a goodbye and driving away.

Despite his introverted and sometimes asshole-like behavior, Fakir was probably kindest person Ahiru had ever met.

Fakir sighed when he pulled into the garage, turning and pulling out the key to his beautiful Volvo. Even though he'd been 'with' Ahiru for almost a year it still scared him sometimes just how much he cared about the clutzy sophomore. When he was with her, he was a person that he didn't recognize anymore, it was almost like the innocent, naive child in him had pulled off the hard shell he'd cast around himself.

Thankfully, he wasn't that much of a mushy sap when they were in public, that would really be demeaning.

He stepped out the car, leaving the keys in the cup holder, pressing the garage door button lightly. Toeing off his shoes he headed into his room, once again appreciative of the fact that his room was separate from the house so he would have the least interaction possible with the people he was forced to call his "parents."

The door was just as smooth as always when it opened, only the door handle making the lightest sound as his toes curled around the plush carpet he kept spotless. One hand ran over the smooth doorframe before stepping into his room his eyes automatically going to the dark blue jacket that was much too small to be his.

It was the last thing he saw before pain exploded in his head and Fakir didn't see anything anymore.