There was no mistaking it.
Akemi tilted her head slightly to the side.
"Sir?"
Akemi was right in front of him—alive.
Snowflakes floated down from the dark sky, burying the city in white. The only thing that illuminated Shuichi's expression of sheer astonishment was the faint glowing from the vending machine and the street lamps.
He had slipped away from the party quietly, leaving his laughing and happily drunk colleagues behind. Stepping out and into the bleak night, Shuichi vaguely noted his absence of desire to go back into the house where the heater was on full blast.
Leaning against a brick wall, he flipped open his cell phone and searched his messages.
"If I am able to escape the organization after this, will you go out with me as my real boyfriend?"
The unforgiving chill nipped at his face and neck, the skin soon to be numb if exposed any longer. The clock tower in the background chimed a low melody, marking the first minute of Christmas Day.
Shuichi decided black coffee and a few cigarettes sounded really good right now. What happened instead was almost laughable to the next person.
Dazed, Shuichi took in her appearance, dragging his eyes over wide teal ones, flushed cheeks, and the chunky pale yellow scarf he's seen her wear on various occasions.
His heart raced and his mind was in a dire state of frenzy, unable to comprehend how his dead girlfriend was actually standing in front of him, holding his dropped can of coffee and extending her arm towards him.
Her body lying motionless on the ground in the abandoned warehouse flashed through his mind.
There was so much blood…
A loud shrill brought him out of his stupor.
Akemi reached into her purse and dug out her phone. "Ah!"
She hurriedly pressed the heated beverage into Shuichi's palm and said, "Here you go. Bye!"
She's leaving. About to leave his life as quickly and unexpectedly as she had come in.
The world turned slow-motion.
No, not again. Not on his watch.
Moving on pure instinct, he grabbed her wrist and tugged, spinning her around. "Wha-"
A bike sped pass them at an alarming rate.
The hand that wasn't occupied with Akemi's wrist was planted at the small of her back, pulling her into his torso and effectively relinquishing any remaining space between them. Out of reflex and just to hold on to something, Akemi grasped the front of his navy blue turtleneck, bunching the cottony fabric in her fist tightly. The top of her head barely reached his Adam's apple.
Shuichi momentarily shut his eyes and let out a shaky breath at the physical contact. Her delicious scent wafted around him, invading his senses; it was both soothing and arousing at the same time. He held on tighter. This was what he craved during all those sleepless nights. Nothing could compare to the real thing.
He wasn't dreaming this time.
Her nose detected the wonderful combination of mint and musk, with just enough spice to have her unconsciously inhaling deeply. Akemi's heart thumped at the feel of strong hands caging her from the wind and a warm, sturdy body against her softer, feminine one.
Her phone shrieked again, but there was no movement from either of them that indicated their notice of it.
After a long minute, Akemi finally broke away, ears red and overall confused as to exactly why she hadn't done so sooner.
Much to her own embarrassment at the lack of self-control, she prayed he didn't notice her sniff him. But then again, since when did it matter whether this person thought she were a creep or not?
She peered up at her savior, curiosity etched at her features. Oddly enough, he seemed to be startled from the sudden bike as well.
Brushing off the strange feeling, she began to smile. "Th-Thank y-"
To her surprise (how many times was that again?), the man lifted a hand and gently took her cheek, cradling it as if she were going to break any second. His thumb swiped across the expanse of pale, smooth skin, prompting Akemi to blush even harder. Her mouth opened, but before a sound could escape, he pulled away and held up his thumb.
A single eyelash stuck there.
"Oh," she breathed out, a cloud of hot air dissipating in front of her.
Shuichi didn't know whether to cry or kiss her senseless right now. The shock still hadn't completely worn off yet.
Who was this person? And why was her mouth still hanging open like a fish?
She snapped her mouth shut at the thought.
One side of the man's lips curled upward at the sight.
Ah, he thought. It had registered. The foolish woman he so foolishly fell for—she was here. And somehow, in this moment, here with him.
His glasses gleamed as he casually held a hand out.
"I'm Okiya Subaru."
She took it in her smaller one, a familiar sensation crashing over her like waves rippling in a storm.
"Miyano Akemi," she blurted out thoughtlessly. Akemi's eyes widened. Crap. Why did she tell him her real name?
Flailing a bit, she quickly bowed and squeaked a "Thank you for saving me!"
Scratching her cheek uneasily, she asked, "Is there anything I can do to return the favor?"
At her question, a million thoughts flew through Shuichi's brain.
What happened that day? What have you been even doing these past two years? Are you still with the organization? Did you fake it all?
Did you never think to let me know you were alive?
Shuichi abruptly stopped himself. It didn't matter.
After all, he lied to her from the start. The least he could do was trust her.
For now, he'll just have to unravel the mystery himself while protecting what he's never stopped loving.
The alluring smile hadn't wavered. In a smooth, honeyed voice, he said, "Are you free for coffee tomorrow morning?"
Akemi blinked, a stunned look in her expression at the meaning in his words.
They had only met less than ten minutes ago. If she were right in the head, she'd politely decline and offer a piece of gum instead. He was a stranger, for godssake. Plus, it'd mean spending Christmas morning with him. Why on earth would she—
The unusual nervousness bubbling in her chest came back stronger than before. She found herself not minding the thought of sipping at a limited-time only peppermint latte at Poirot with this—Subaru Okiya-san. Not to mention he was easy on the eyes—if the defined jawline and enticing hint of a smirk was anything to go by.
A gust of frosty air swirled past them, ruffling their hair and clothes and causing her to briefly think back to when she was pressed against him.
He was so warm.
Nowadays, Akemi couldn't help but yearn for warmth. Bundling herself up in layers of clothing barely did the job.
Body heat on the other hand...
It was downright crazy, and she was well aware of it, but she felt drawn to him in some type of way she couldn't quite place her finger on.
There was this weird tension that surrounded them, tension so thick a sharp blade would have trouble getting a slice in. The man gave off an intense yet comforting aura, reminding Akemi a lot of someone from her past.
Just like Dai-kun…
And before she could think to stop herself one last time, she had already whispered, "Yes."
A/N: I wrote a Christmas-y fic in August.
Also, reading this makes me think wow. Korean drama much? whoops.