Cherished Darkness
Noir fanfiction by LeeT911 (LeeT911@hotmail.com)
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"Kirika, I'm going out tonight, so I guess you're on your own for dinner."
"Oh." Disappointment flashed across the younger girl's features, but when she turned the unmoving neutral expression was already back in place. "Where are you going?" The question came out shakily, her voice betraying her where her appearance did not.
Fortunately, Mireille had also turned to gather some clothes, and she kept her back to Kirika. "Some restaurant. I made a date."
"Oh."
"I'll be in the shower. Answer the phone if it rings."
"Mmm."
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Mireille emerged nearly an hour later, glancing nervously at the clock. She wore a light pink dress that seemed strangely mismatched to Kirika's eyes. It wasn't the sort of outfit her partner typically dressed in. It made her look… innocent. Still, Kirika resisted the urge to say something, redirecting her attention to the television.
The blonde hurriedly pulled on her stockings and slipped on her shoes. "I'm going to need some help here. I'm going to be late." She settled herself in front of the dresser and opened her makeup case with one hand while the other began passing a brush through her hair.
Kirika shut off the television and sighed. Slowly, she pulled herself off the couch and wandered over to where Mireille was frantically trying to do too many things at the same time. Without a word, she took the hairbrush from the blonde's hands and set about arranging the long golden locks.
Her small hands played through the blonde hair, but her eyes stayed glued to the mirror, where Mireille was carefully applying eye shadow and powder. She'd seen her partner go through this ritual hundreds of times, but today it hurt her to watch. Unconsciously, her hands faltered as Mireille started on her lashes. Blue eyes looked up to meet brown ones in the mirror.
"What is it?"
Kirika blinked, suddenly focusing on a spot on the top of Mireille's head. "Nothing. Your hair's done."
"Good. Hand me those earrings?"
The hairbrush dropped unceremoniously to the dresser as the Japanese girl scooped up the tiny diamond earrings and passed them to Mireille. As the blonde began fiddling with her ears, Kirika picked a lipstick from the several Mireille had laid out. Deliberately, she uncapped it and pushed out the tip, examining the end critically before turning towards her partner. Mireille silently acquiesced the choice of colour and stuck out her lips obediently.
Kirika had never used lipstick before, excepting the time Mireille had showed her how to, but she tried her best, careful not to mar the work the blonde had already done. She lost herself in her task. Slowly, she applied a coat of scarlet velvet to Mireille's lips, the colour gently tracing over the edges of the blonde's mouth. She didn't notice that Mireille had stopped moving, that Mireille was watching her. All she saw was the cylinder gliding over full lips, and she wished it was her fingers instead.
The sound of a buzzer shook those thoughts away. They both looked up, as if suddenly realizing how close they were leaning.
"That would be my date." Mireille observed as she quickly closed the clasp on her necklace "Could you get my coat?"
Kirika held the coat out for Mireille as the blonde threw a sweater over her shoulders and grabbed her purse.
"How do I look?"
"Perfect."
She slipped into the long coat and hugged the younger girl briefly. "Thanks. I'll see you tonight. Don't wait up for me."
Kirika could only nod.
From the window, she watched them leave. The smartly dressed man came around to open the door for Mireille and help her into the car. And then, just like that, they were gone.
Kirika stood by the window for a long time, staring out into street. Gradually, the light overhead changed from golden to fiery, fiery to fuchsia, until it dimmed into the shadows of twilight. She sighed, tore herself away from the window. She looked towards the kitchen, but she didn't feel particularly hungry. Instead, she wandered back into the bedroom and pulled open the drawer with all her clothes in it. Carefully, she removed the rose and chocolates she had stashed at the back last night. A single tear pushed its way out the corner of her eye as she held the red heart-shaped box in her hands. The fading light of dusk glinted off the flowing silvery script on the cover. "Mireille", it said.
She let the flower fall softly to the floor as she sat on the bed, clutching the box of chocolates to her chest. All she could think of was the all the time she had wasted conjuring up the courage to do this. All she could think of was all the effort she had wasted trying to make this special. Kirika shivered, suddenly cold. A single sob escaped her, but she refused to the give the tears free reign. Mercilessly, she ground her teeth together until the urge to cry passed.
When she looked up again, it was full night and faint starlight splashed across the walls. Without thinking, she undid the ribbons on the box and opened it. Twelve heart-shaped chocolates stared defiantly back at her. She ran her fingers lightly over them, feeling the stickiness where her body heat had warmed them enough to melt. She paused as she touched the last one, and hesitantly took it in her fingers.
It smelled rich and perfumed, the fragrance of the scented box clinging to it. It tasted tangy and sickeningly sweet, the syrupy cherry center running over her tongue. The cloying candy flavour burst through her quickly enough to make her gag. The chocolates were horrible. Mireille wouldn't have like them.
Kirika flung the box away, scattering the sweets across the room. Tears leaked out against her will. Suddenly weary, she collapsed backwards onto the bed, wrapping the covers tightly around herself. She stayed motionless, watching the shadows dance across the ceiling. And although the hours trickled by, she didn't sleep.
It was near midnight when sounds in the apartment finally caused her to stir, the closing of the apartment door and the soft padding of feet toward the bedroom. Mireille was back. Kirika closed her eyes and covered her face with her arms.
The footsteps drew closer, pausing in the doorway. Kirika kept her breathing shallow and even. Thankfully, the lights stayed off. There was only the crinkly sound of paper as something was placed on the dresser, and then the quiet rustle of Mireille moving about the room, undoubtedly gathering her things for a shower. The footsteps were receding towards the door again when there was a sudden stumble and a sharp intake of breath. Kirika cringed, and again when the small lamp at the head of the bed was flicked on. She squeezed her eyes shut, but remained otherwise immobile, trying to ignore the presence so near her.
The mattress beneath her moved as someone sat down on the bed, and a gentle touch trailed across the arm that was hiding her eyes. A voice whispered in her ear, soft and kind. "Are you awake?"
"Yes." Reluctantly, Kirika pulled her arms from her face and tried to call forth the blank mask of composure, but somehow failed to find it. She hoped the dim light hid her pained expression.
Mireille held a damaged rose in her hands, the stem bent and the petals crushed. "I stepped on your flower. I'm sorry."
Kirika focused on the dresser, atop of which lay a dazzling bouquet of crimson blooms. "It doesn't matter. You already got flowers."
"It was for me?"
The dark-haired girl nodded, and for an instant, she dared look back into the blue eyes questioning her. They were warm, and inviting, almost… unguarded. She wanted to keep looking, to understand what was behind those orbs of sapphire, but Mireille broke the gaze, blinking several times in rapid succession.
Kirika was about to say something, but she held her tongue as the blonde slid down to lie next to her, their shoulders touching lightly. For a long moment, they lay there, silently staring up at the ceiling, listening to each other's quiet breathing.
"Were the chocolates for me also?" It was whispered so softly Kirika could barely make it out.
"Yes."
"Thank you."
Kirika felt a warm hand cover hers and squeeze gently. Her heart fluttered in her chest.
For several minutes, she savoured the sensation of the contact, her thumb sliding tentatively over Mireille's fingers.
"Aren't you going to ask me?"
"What?"
"How my date went?"
"I'm scared." That earned her another reassuring squeeze.
"We went to a small restaurant in the old part of town, and it was very nice. It was pleasant, if not overly romantic. The food was exquisite, but I guess I wasn't in the mood. Afterwards, we went dancing, and I realized what had been bothering me since dinner." Mireille paused, and let out her breath slowly before continuing. "Everywhere I looked, there were couples. Everywhere I looked, there were people holding hands, whispering together, and sharing meaningful looks. Everyone around me was happy and smiling; everyone around me was having fun, and I wasn't. I didn't want to be there."
Another pause, much longer this time. Kirika waited, patiently giving Mireille the time she needed to finish. When no words were forthcoming, Kirika sat up cross-legged, never letting go of the blonde's hand. It was Mireille's turn to look away.
Undeterred, the dark-haired girl reached over and shut off the light, once more bathing the room in shadows. The darkness did not instill the courage she had hoped for. Hesitantly, she lay down again, this time resting her head lightly on Mireille's shoulder. Kirika felt the blonde swallow as her cheek grazed the skin of Mireille's neck. Dreamily, she breathed in the scent of her partner, and suddenly she was giving voice to the thoughts that had plagued her for so long.
"I used to like it here, in the darkness, in this concealing comfort where I have no face but the one in my mind, where I have no name but the one I give myself. But now… now I don't know anymore. All I know is that I don't want to be alone. I don't want to be alone anymore. Every time I see you, Mireille, I wish I could touch you, I wish…" Unconsciously, she tightened her grip on Mireille's hand. "Am I asking for too much?"
"No." A hand moved up to stroke Kirika's hair and face. To the blonde's surprise, it came away wet. Her own eyes filled with tears, but she held them back, determined to finish what she had started. "I asked David to bring me home. I told him I wasn't feeling well. It was close enough to the truth. I just wanted to be here. I wanted to be home. I wanted to be with you."
Kirika shuddered, not from the cold. Her skin felt all sensitive and tingly. Her free arm wrapped itself around Mireille's body, soaking up the heat through the thin pink dress. Mireille's arms shifted to encircle her, and she relaxed willingly into their embrace. She smiled as a soft kiss was placed on her forehead.
She felt drained, but happy. She wanted very much to say something, but couldn't find any words to accurately describe the wonderful feeling suffusing her body. Her eyelids drooped against her will as the tension of the day caught up to her.
"Go to sleep," Mireille whispered, "I promise we'll talk in the morning."
Kirika obediently allowed her eyes to drift closed, and as the pleasant haze of sleep surrounded her, a single phrase managed to pierce her clouded consciousness.
"I love you."
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