A/n: Both Kaji and Misato belong to Gainax and the song 'the recluse'
belongs to a band called cursive. This takes place years after Misato and
Kaji breaks up. I'm not responsible for any damages caused by the sappiness
in this fic. Thanks to Michelle for reading over this ^.^
The Recluse By Soomi
He felt his dry palms open and close and realized that he had been sleeping. The sheets were nearly white, lightly tanned yellow that smelled like lemon perfumes-an unfamiliar scent. Or was it something that he'd once known before? It reminded him of the strands of dark raven hair, so smooth and silky that he could just reach out to bury his hands into them. The light scent of lemons. no, he could not remember. As far as he knew, there were so many women and only one of him. They all wore different fragrances on their bodies, each smelling the same sweetness he'd tasted before. Really, he couldn't recall, but it did not matter anyways. He strained an arm to reach the other side of the bed and felt the space empty and cold. He opened his eyes.
--
I wake alone, in a woman's room I hardly know.
I wake alone-and pretend that I am finally home.
The room is littered with her books and notebooks,
I imagine what they say, like, 'Shoo fly-don't bother me.'
--
He sat up and realized that it wasn't a good idea. His head spun. He could only make out the broad details of the room, which was a total mess. Scraps of papers falling out of manila folders, cap-less red lipsticks and cosmetics scattered around the bed, and dear god-the woman was a drunk. If he was seeing things right, cans of Yebisu beer lay everywhere, its empty stench coyly filling his nostrils. But then again, that also did not matter. He lazily stretched his body and slithered back into the lemon scented sheets. He did not want to deal with a headache at all. He wanted to remember the yesterday night; he was awfully drunk as she was. Funny, he only saw a hazy silhouette of her figure which pinned him down. She was a dominant one. They kissed and kissed and kissed, her sweet mouth tasting nothing like the foul beer as they tried to undo his belt. He remembered laughing while she slurred an annoyed "shadd'up" and finally got rid of the frustrating thing. Her breasts had felt so warm on his hands. He wanted to feel them again, to see her again. But then he wondered that she might've expected him to leave by now since of course, he was just a one night stand.
--
And I can hardly get myself out of her bed,
For fear of never lying in this bed again.
Oh Christ, I'm not that desperate. Oh no.Oh god.I am.
--
He wanted so to see her again. Who was she? She was so wonderful in bed. He didn't even know her, but he felt that he was beginning to miss her. Her lemon scented bed somehow comforted him. He inhaled its scent deeply, afraid of having to let go of all this. He had been so lonely, and the scent of this unknown woman soothed him. It had been too long since he felt this way, he thought, and smiled bitterly. He decided to stay in the bed until she returned. He wanted to see her again.
--
How'd I end up here to begin with? I don't know.
Why do I start what I can't finish?
Oh please, don't barrage me with questions to all those ugly answers.
My ego's like my stomach- it keeps shitting what I feed it.
But maybe I don't want to finish anything anymore.
Maybe I can wait in bed 'til she comes home and whispers,
"You're in my web now, I've come to wrap you up tight 'til it's time to bite down."
--
And after waiting for a half an hour, he began to fall asleep. He did not notice the muffled squeak of a door, or the furtive steps of the unknown woman. She gently walked to her lemon scented bed until she towered over him. Her dark raven hair fell softly around his face as she leaned over, her face almost near his. The glossy red lips spread into a wistful smile as she whispered into his ear,
"Welcome back."
--
I wake alone in a woman's room I hardly know.
I wake alone - and pretend that I am finally home.
--
The Recluse By Soomi
He felt his dry palms open and close and realized that he had been sleeping. The sheets were nearly white, lightly tanned yellow that smelled like lemon perfumes-an unfamiliar scent. Or was it something that he'd once known before? It reminded him of the strands of dark raven hair, so smooth and silky that he could just reach out to bury his hands into them. The light scent of lemons. no, he could not remember. As far as he knew, there were so many women and only one of him. They all wore different fragrances on their bodies, each smelling the same sweetness he'd tasted before. Really, he couldn't recall, but it did not matter anyways. He strained an arm to reach the other side of the bed and felt the space empty and cold. He opened his eyes.
--
I wake alone, in a woman's room I hardly know.
I wake alone-and pretend that I am finally home.
The room is littered with her books and notebooks,
I imagine what they say, like, 'Shoo fly-don't bother me.'
--
He sat up and realized that it wasn't a good idea. His head spun. He could only make out the broad details of the room, which was a total mess. Scraps of papers falling out of manila folders, cap-less red lipsticks and cosmetics scattered around the bed, and dear god-the woman was a drunk. If he was seeing things right, cans of Yebisu beer lay everywhere, its empty stench coyly filling his nostrils. But then again, that also did not matter. He lazily stretched his body and slithered back into the lemon scented sheets. He did not want to deal with a headache at all. He wanted to remember the yesterday night; he was awfully drunk as she was. Funny, he only saw a hazy silhouette of her figure which pinned him down. She was a dominant one. They kissed and kissed and kissed, her sweet mouth tasting nothing like the foul beer as they tried to undo his belt. He remembered laughing while she slurred an annoyed "shadd'up" and finally got rid of the frustrating thing. Her breasts had felt so warm on his hands. He wanted to feel them again, to see her again. But then he wondered that she might've expected him to leave by now since of course, he was just a one night stand.
--
And I can hardly get myself out of her bed,
For fear of never lying in this bed again.
Oh Christ, I'm not that desperate. Oh no.Oh god.I am.
--
He wanted so to see her again. Who was she? She was so wonderful in bed. He didn't even know her, but he felt that he was beginning to miss her. Her lemon scented bed somehow comforted him. He inhaled its scent deeply, afraid of having to let go of all this. He had been so lonely, and the scent of this unknown woman soothed him. It had been too long since he felt this way, he thought, and smiled bitterly. He decided to stay in the bed until she returned. He wanted to see her again.
--
How'd I end up here to begin with? I don't know.
Why do I start what I can't finish?
Oh please, don't barrage me with questions to all those ugly answers.
My ego's like my stomach- it keeps shitting what I feed it.
But maybe I don't want to finish anything anymore.
Maybe I can wait in bed 'til she comes home and whispers,
"You're in my web now, I've come to wrap you up tight 'til it's time to bite down."
--
And after waiting for a half an hour, he began to fall asleep. He did not notice the muffled squeak of a door, or the furtive steps of the unknown woman. She gently walked to her lemon scented bed until she towered over him. Her dark raven hair fell softly around his face as she leaned over, her face almost near his. The glossy red lips spread into a wistful smile as she whispered into his ear,
"Welcome back."
--
I wake alone in a woman's room I hardly know.
I wake alone - and pretend that I am finally home.
--