Undefined

What was the big deal with definitions anyway? Honestly, what did it matter to anyone? Why did any of this matter at all, if it didn't matter in the slightest to the two people it actually pertained to?

Honestly.

So what?

So what if she said they weren't "technically" dating; what did it matter if everyone already knew that the seat beside him was always and only reserved for her? That doesn't mean they're dating...at least, not "technically". That's just...well there really is no word for what that is, but why should it matter?

So what?

So what if they should spend most of their limited free time together? It's not her fault if he walks her to class or work. It's not her fault that she has grown accustomed to his random chatter and constant teasing; so much so that she will seek him out to walk with her, only because she gets bored too easily on her walks without him to trade taunts with. Last time she checked, seeking someone out for the sole purpose of arguing with them was not an indicator of falling in love.

So what?

So what if he waited for her every night until the wee hours of the morning to walk her home after work? It's not like he had anything else to do with his time.

So what?

So what if she let him take her hand on those walks? It gets cold at night in the city and despite her working so many late hours she still can't afford a decent pair of mittens. His warm hands wrapped around hers were a nice compromise.

So what?

So what if she let him hug her? Nobody else ever dared to come close to her, for fear of her or for fear of incurring his wrath, she couldn't be sure. She wasn't a very emotional or touchy person, even with her friends, but everyone likes hugs.

So what?

So what if she let him kiss her behind closed doors, when no one else was watching? It was all just a game to him anyway and she hated to lose; oh, how she hated to lose, especially to him. She'd close her eyes and kiss him just to cover up that smug little smirk of his that he only ever showed to her.

So what?

What did it matter to everyone else? What did it matter what everyone thought they were? They knew what they were and they were the only ones that mattered.

Right?

Except it did matter.

Maybe not to him, always so calm and cool and so aloof from the realm of normal people that at times she doubted his humanity. What did it matter to him what anyone thought of him and his relationships when everyone likened him to a God in the first place?

But it mattered to her, who had worked so hard to build up a strong, upstanding reputation, and who worked even harder to hide her true self from everyone's eyes but his. Despite her best efforts, despite her own personal misgivings...it mattered to her what people thought. It mattered what people thought of them.

But why did it matter?

Maybe because the harder people pushed her for a definition of their relationship, the more she realized that she herself truly didn't know the answer.

What were they?

They weren't dating. That she knew for a fact.
They weren't 'fooling around' either; she knew that wasn't it either. Whatever it was, it was more than a joke and had been going on too long to be just a simple game.
They weren't 'seeing each other'; that was simply way too vague a term to describe them when they saw each other practically every day.

She'd asked him once; to help define them; to clear up the confusion that she could feel was always standing between them, every single time they were together.

But was it confusion? That feeling between them every time their eyes met, every time his fingers brushed her hair back out her face.

Did confusion make his eyes smoulder like that? Was it confusion that made her heart pound so hard that she lost all ability for rationale thought and coherent speech?

Was it all just nothing but confusion between them? Or was it something else?

Every time she succumbed to the pressure, every time she tried to ask him he would laugh it off, brush it aside with a touch of his hand, and his lips to her and all of his courage, all of his nonchalance would come flowing into her, making her forget why she ever cared about anything else at all other than him, other than this right now.

So what?

What did anything matter so long as everyone knew that the space next to him was reserved for her, and that the only one she allowed next to her would be him. So long as everyone knew that she was his, and he was hers.

It doesn't get much more simpler defined than that.

There are no names in this because I hope to use it as a piece for a contemporary creative writing portfolio. I'm not so good with contemporary, but I absolutely love the dynamic between Misaki and Usui; just because it may be obvious to everyone else, sometimes things are hardest to see for yourselves and sometimes things are perfect just the way they are.

Hope you enjoyed it.

Deceptress