forget all this
it's all too easy
-----♥
"Draw me a picture," says Riku, leaning against the wall. He's straddling the chair across from Naminé, looking cool and collected and just a little bit handsome. Naminé looks up and tucks a stray strand of pale blonde hair behind her ear. He is disconcerting, Riku is, but addicting; she loves when he's around.
"Of what?" she asks, her voice quiet. He also brings out the worst in her, making her quiet and reserved, more so than normal. She finds it difficult to meet his eyes, partially from the shyness, partially because of the affection she finds in them. Naminé doesn't want affection; someone always ends up getting hurt, and she is sure it would be her.
Riku grins at her, swinging one leg over the chair and standing up. "Me, of course." He comes to sit on the bed next to her, close. She inches away from him, because when he's too close she can't concentrate on anything but his scent. It's something heady, something she can't name, but it screams Riku. Naminé grips her sketchbook closer, staring up at him. Without noticing, she begins to twirl her pencil between her fingers.
Riku glances down at her thin fingers, and then back up at her. "You don't… have to, if you don't want to," he tells her, reaching out a hand to run his fingers lightly through her hair. She flinches slightly, but doesn't move away, and he grins. "We could always do something else."
Naminé doesn't move. "What…" once again, she can't seem to form the right words. Cursing herself internally, she looks down.
His fingers brush against her chin, pulling her head upward. Her breath catches at his touch. "R…Riku?"
He's looking at her with something she doesn't recognize flashing in his eyes. "You don't have to be so scared of me," Riku tells her, hand still brushing against her skin. She shakes her head.
"I'm not—"
But he's already pulling away, fingers pulled back into a loose fist, dropping to his side. He turns and faces forward on the bed, not looking at her. "Go back to drawing, Naminé," he says, his voice quiet. She has no idea what's running through his head, so she picks up her pencil again and presses it to the paper.
As her fingers move in calculated strokes, her mind's running. She thought he was going to kiss her. She had thought… and she hadn't wanted to pull away. Naminé doesn't want affection, but she feels that maybe Riku's wouldn't hurt. She drops her pencil on the floor, accidentally, and bends down to retrieve it. When she straightens, she glances over at Riku. He's not looking at her. Naminé wonders why he hasn't left. There's no reason for him to stay.
Sighing, she goes back to drawing, laying out the lines for a face. After a couple minutes of sketching, the face begins to form into something recognizable, and she's shocked that it looks just like Riku. Glancing up at him, she catches his eye. He's been watching her draw surreptitiously. When she looks up, his eyes slide to her face, and there's a pause.
Then she's reaching for him, fisting her hand in his shirt, shocking both of them with her boldness. Riku's staring down at her, eyes wide, and then he's pulling her closer, arms around her waist. "Naminé," he whispers. She leans against him, her head finding its place against his shoulder as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
It wasn't supposed to end up like this. She wasn't supposed to want him; he wasn't supposed to want her. She wasn't supposed to enjoy being near him. She wasn't supposed to give in to affection, because her heart isn't there.
Naminé finds that she can forget all this the moment he presses his lips to hers. Because, once upon a time, Naminé didn't believe in affection; but this isn't a fairytale, and he's not a knight in shining armor. He's Riku, and that's all that counts.
------------standard disclaimer applies.
challenge fic for RoseZephyr's challenge.
ended up much shorter than I had planned it, but I'm happy with it.
•I hope they're still in character.