Pencil Sketches, a loveless fanfic

Pencil Sketches

"Your drawings still suck," the blonde chimed, leaning over her shoulder to look at the clothing sketches. A quick peck on the cheek and a thin smirk on her glossed lips followed. "But I can't wait to wear them…" One-shot. Kouya-Yamato.

Disclaimer: I don't own Loveless.

There was barely ever time to remember so far back to that night, back in the graveyard. There was no time to recall the gleam on the steel box opener blade. No time to remember the desperation in those suicidal thoughts that ran through her mind as she gazed into the blue eyes of Yamato.

"Kouya, you need to get out there to announce the line!" announced a harsh whisper that traveled through the small earpiece tucked around her right ear. The young woman looked startled for a moment, though she quickly recovered and lifted a hand to her dress' neckline, feeling the small microphone tucked behind some of the lace outline. She loved this dress.

She didn't wobble or stumble in her three inch heels as she walked out from behind the curtain and down the long, brightly lit catwalk towards her podium just beside the edge of the stretching aisle as spotlights flooded her vision, reflecting brightly off of the lenses of her glasses. She didn't hesitate as she came to the end, and she didn't stutter once as she announced a greeting to the large hundred plus audience as she had worried so terribly over last night.

"-and I, Sakagami Kouya, representative of Lelix Fashions, welcome you to the opening show of the Lake Collection, designed by myself, and the Rain Collection designed by designer Hideki, Ryumura and co-designer Muller, Ellen," the dark haired woman finished announcing, a businesslike smile lifting the corners of her lips while she was aware that the large studio cameras recording the event to play on television later were focused on her.

"Everyone has worked very hard these past few months, and you now will be the first to view the new line! Now let's pull on through the show!" Some cameras from upfront flashing didn't bother Kouya, and she did admit to herself that she was feeling some excitement in her chest that made her heart flutter, but she didn't let it get the better of her, otherwise she might slip up.

The spotlights dimmed slightly throughout the massive room, and the flashes of Technicolor lights flew in sweeping movements across the edges of the catwalk. The music began to play in the background, and the body of the first model became an enlarged silhouette behind a large, paper thin curtain made of a thin material, and the lights turned off, for only a few seconds, as the curtain was pulled back and gave the model the time to begin her walk, and she was on her third step as the lights rose to full power, blinding the lit stage with a white light as bright as the glare from the sun.

But it was dark in comparison to the young woman sauntering predatorily down the catwalk.

Blue eyes were narrowed in a sultry leer and red glossed lips were perked up in a pursed pout. Small rhinestones adorned the corners of her eyes and sparkled like the diamond chandelier earrings dangling from her ears. Pale skin poured out from the dress she wore, contrasting with the dark violet and black silk she wore. The lace trimming the edges of the dress fluttered and quaked, just as the billowing skirt fluttering behind her with each step; no hope of ever catching up to the beauty adorning the clothes.

Her ankles didn't quake or suffer a single shake as she continued her walk in five inch heels as thin as a pencil. Long, milky white legs peeked out from underneath the frills and folds of the skirt, and when she reached the end of the catwalk, one of her few poses allowed for just a bit of her thigh to be revealed, and she turned herself away from that side of the audience as though acting coy. Bright blue locked with hazel brown, and Kouya felt a small prick of fire in her chest.

"And that was Nakano Yamato, wearing one of the dresses from the Lake Collection-" and Kouya listed off the materials of the dress, highlighting the model's accessories, and remarking the contrasts of the dress' colors. But her eyes continued to follow the model down the stage, watching the wave of each and every long lock of blonde hair. When she'd disappeared behind another curtain and another model began walking out. Kouya wasn't late to announce her name and her outfit ensemble.

This went on for nearly two hours. Every so often, the same blonde model would appear on the cat walk, donning a new dress on her perfect body, and Kouya would be just a bit late announcing her. Her eyes would become entranced with every step of movement within the blonde, and it took all of her being to resist the blush waiting to heat up every time the model blew a kiss to her audience – more specifically, to Kouya.

And when Kouya knew that one of the last few models would be walking just before the blonde again, she felt an airy feeling filling her body, as though she were a balloon and being filled with weightless helium. The minute the blonde walked out again, Kouya felt a loss of breath. She was wearing a white dress that seemed to have been slashed along the hips and stomach, revealing her thin stomach and more of her milky skin the color of cream.

This time, at the end of the catwalk, the model made no flirtatious poses or actions, and only smiled at the dark haired designer. Tongue gone dry, Kouya forgot all about the announcement. That is, until a thin veil of concern ghosted over the blonde's face, and she gave a quick, encouraging glance to the designer, who was being prompted through her ear piece to speak, and the model turned again on the catwalk, showing of the dress again, stalling for the designer.

No other model would have done so, and Kouya knew it was only her that would come to her rescue like this. She quickly regained her breath and announced the words she'd rehearsed so dutifully the nights before. Because of the time she'd spent rehearsing in front of her bathroom mirror, she knew she was keeping her facial expression normal and her body language she made sure said nothing about the panic she'd felt just moments before.

As the blonde model disappeared one last time behind the curtain, the dark haired designer smiled as she looked out over the audience. Now, she only had to introduce the other two designers, and the ending notes of the show, and her work would be done. There was the after party, but that she could excuse herself from after only about two hours, so it wasn't too long of a sentence.

Hazel eyes drifted back towards the curtain, knowing that the models backstage were beginning their own celebration as they were undressed by the clothes assistants, and then were let off. Kouya grinned slightly, knowing that most of them would be going to a nearby bar to celebrate by getting drunk and some would be picking up dates.

It wouldn't be a very long after party, but Kouya couldn't wait to get back to her apartment.

Laughing gently at the man's joke, Kouya lifted a pale hand up to her bright red lips, nodding to the conclusion of his anecdote. She couldn't quite remember what profession he'd said he was in, though she had an inkling that he'd mentioned acting or something of the sort. The chilled air of New York's streets at such a late hour seemed just a bit colder from all the melting snow on the corners of the roads and the sidewalks, and Kouya pulled her thin shawl just a bit higher over her shoulders. She hadn't designed this dress to be made for warmth, and the shawl was certainly sticking to that thought.

"Sakagami-san," the man said after a few moments, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It has been a wonderful night speaking with you, I wouldn't want it to end so soon," the man continued, his eyes softening slightly and his hand shifting slowly down from her shoulder to her fore arm, fingertips ghosting over the skin that the dress so opening revealed.

Kouya tensed just a bit and made a move to step away just slightly, laughing nervously to cover up for her actions. "Oh, please Mr. Barnes, there's no need for such formalities. We're not in Japan, after all," Kouya interjected.

"Well then, I told you that you can call me Jonathan," the man replied. "And I would love for you to accompany me tonight," he added with a small smile. Nothing was malicious about the man, and though Kouya wasn't disgusted by the lust he was so openly admitting to, she just wasn't interested. How could she be? There were so many answers to that question, and none of them worked in the man's favor. Kouya really did hate having to socialize with so many people at these functions.

"I'm sorry, Jonathan. But I should really be getting home, it's late and I still have to go to work tomorrow," she replied, beginning to walk down the steps of the banquet hall that had hosted the show. The man followed behind her, and gently touched her arm again to get her to look at him. The glare of the street lamps reflecting off the lenses of her glasses, she took in a small breath of the cold night air.

"Please, then at least let me get your cab," he offered chivalrously, unable to completely hide his disappointment. The designer hesitated a moment, but smiled apologetically and nodded, accepting his offer. The man hailed a taxi cab for her quite quickly, and opened the door for her. "Good night, Miss Sakagami," he said in farewell, watching as she slid into the back seat of the cab.

"Good night, Jonathan, and thank you," she replied back, waving her hand as he closed the door. The driver asked where she wanted to go, and Kouya told him the address of her apartment complex, holding her black clutch on her lap with one hand. It took a little longer than she'd expected, due to some unexpected traffic in a few intersections, though when the cab finally pulled up in front of her apartment complex Kouya sighed in relief.

Paying the driver, Kouya smiled in amusement when the man rushed out from his seat to come around the front of the taxi and open the car door for the woman. "Here miss," he said, a kind expression on the man's face. Kouya chuckled and smiled, thanking him as she walked past and towards the front doors of the complex. Even with her and her roommate's salary, Kouya didn't feel up to getting a nicer apartment or relocating to a nicer area. This apartment was fine, and she liked how there were no pesky attendants waiting in every hallway and the lobby.

All one needed was the key to the front doors, or if visiting, you merely had to buzz one of the apartments through the intercom system. Kouya reached into her purse to get her key, and unlocked the door, stepping inside and hurrying to the elevator. Having a room on the fifth floor meant a lot of walking on the stairs, so she didn't much liked walking up them, especially in heels.

It was nearly an hour later that Kouya was dressed in navy sweat pants and a soft yellow turtleneck, working diligently in her sketch book, the 5B drawing pencil making dark, sweeping strokes on the paper. It was also in that hour later that she heard the buzzing of the intercom, and she looked up with surprise and puzzlement on her face. A voice crackled through the fuzzy intercom, and Kouya lifted an eye brow when she recognized it as her roommate's.

Getting up from the chair and desk she was sitting at, the woman walked over to the front door where the intercom receiver was built into the wall. Pressing the button, she asked, "Did you forget your key again?" with a hint of amusement in her tone.

"Mmmnn…uh-uh," the voice hummed, giggling slightly. "Lost it? I think…maybe, maybe not…"

Kouya pressed the button again and said she'd be right there. Not bothering to slip on shoes, trusting her socks to keep her feet safe, Kouya opened the door and hurried out into the hall, taking the elevator down to the lobby. Reaching it, she could see her roommate standing against the thick glass door, a familiar goofy grin on her lips as she drew small faces on the cooled glass after breathing onto it to make it foggy. When she saw Kouya, though, she couldn't help the excited and childish jump of joy, and the erratic waving of her hand in greeting.

Kouya sighed, shaking her head from side to side with a smile as she opened the door for her roommate, the blonde embracing her quickly. Kouya shivered a bit from the cold air that blew into the lobby when she opened the door, and the slightly chilled body of her roommate. The door, slowly closing by itself and locking automatically beeped, and Kouya led the blonde woman back towards the elevator, the clicking of the other's heels on the tiles of the lobby a soft sound.

"That show was great, you know…Melody nearly ripped her dress backstage! It was that purply pinkish one of yours…" Yamato babbled as they stepped inside the elevator, her nose buried in Kouya's dark, warm hair. The blonde loved the other's warmth.

"Fuchsia," Kouya corrected, a small grin on her lips as Yamato hummed to herself. The dark haired designer shivered slightly when she felt Yamato's cold nose brush through her hair, and touch the skin between her ear and neck. "The color is fuchsia."

"Yeah! That's one!" Yamato hiccupped, smiling brightly. "Well, I, well…we made her drink penalty shots, remember when I made you do that?! When was it…last month? Last Christmas? I dunno, but she can't take liquor at all! She was done after that, and didn't remember what her name was! It was great!" Yamato shouted, laughing hysterically as Kouya balanced her, putting her hand on Yamato's chest to steady her and keep her from falling.

Kouya took the chance to look over her outfit quickly, taking in the mini jean jacket, red dress shirt, and dark jeans and black strap heels. Kouya shook her head, smiling at her drunken roommate. "You know Yamato, I think you may have gotten drunk at the show. It's January and you didn't wear a mini skirt to a bar," Kouya joked.

Yamato looked up at her with a pout on her lips, "Don't be so mean, Kouya! I was only doing what you said!" Yamato argued, her words falling from English into Japanese and back without noticing. "Besides, if I wore a miniskirt, I would stand out too much, and then all sorts of people would be looking at me! And even though I was wearing jeans, some guy tried to touch my ass! I was so mad, I poured my drink over his head!" Yamato argued fixedly, her bright blue eyes looking into Kouya's hazel eyes.

"Geez Yamato, and you wonder why you don't have more boyfriends," Kouya teased, her hand running through the long, silken strands of Yamato's hair. She'd grown it out, and it nearly reached her waist. Kouya's own hair was nearly at her mid back. Yamato quieted for a moment, and sniffled, glancing up at Kouya with a hurt expression. "Y-Yamato?" Kouya asked, immediately worried.

"How could you be so mean, Kouya!? You know I don't want them! How could you hurt my feelings like that!?" she demanded, her eyes becoming watery as Kouya's expression fell to one of shock and sorrow.

"Y-Yamato, I'm sorry! I didn't mean that," Kouya immediately replied back, just as the elevator doors opened on their floor. Kouya didn't pay much attention to them at the moment, instead her attention was fixated on her companion. "Yamato, really, I'm sorry," she began, but was interrupted when she was suddenly pushed against the back wall of the elevator by two strong hands gripping her upper arms.

The blonde leaned in, a taunting smile on her lips, "Just joking," she smirked, leaning in closer to cover Kouya's lips with her own cold ones. Kouya tensed and Yamato giggled as she broke away, skipping out of the elevator and going a little ways down the hall, laughing as Kouya marched out of the elevator with an annoyed expression.

Ignoring Yamato's frolicking and victorious chuckling, Kouya strode over to their apartment door, and opened it, having not worried about locking it before. Turning as Yamato skipped into the room, albeit a bit unsteadily, Kouya narrowed her gaze towards her. "Yamato, sometimes I really can't stand your idea of joking when you're drunk off your ass," the designer snapped lightly, her anger quickly ebbing away as Yamato shrugged off her jacket and tossed it to the ground. Kouya sighed, locking the door before walking towards the jacket, and bent to pick it up.

Placing it gently on the back of the couch, Kouya walked back over towards her desk, Yamato's gaze watching her. Kouya reached out for her supplies that still lay scattered along the top of the desk. But when her hands went to pick up her sketch book so as to close it, she felt Yamato behind her, and she felt the other's arms reach around her from the back to grasp her sketch book, lifting it up and causing Kouya to have to position her arms in a strange way, similar to a scare crow. "Hey!" she protested weakly, feeling a smile coming up to her lips when she felt Yamato rub her nose against the back of her neck, sniffling slightly from the obstacle of her hair. "Don't look at those, they're just ideas right now," Kouya muttered to Yamato, who mumbled something slightly unintelligible about artists and traits of over-modesty, or something like that. It's not like you can expect much from a drunken Yamato.

The designer grinned slightly as she took her book from Yamato, closing it and placing it neatly on the desk, along with her pencils and other supplies that she'd hurriedly put back together just seconds before. Then, turning in Yamato's grip, Kouya lifted her arms and placed them around Yamato's shoulders, her hands taking fistfuls of her lover's thick blonde hair. Leaning closer, the dark haired young woman pressed her lips, still colored a bit red from her lipstick for that evening's events, against Yamato's.

Yamato was quick to return her show of affection, and eagerly drove her tongue into Kouya's accepting mouth. Tongue's clashed, and rubbed one another till Kouya backed down and allowed Yamato to claim her mouth as hers. But Kouya gently separated them, and leaned back slightly, pressing her hands against Yamato's chest. "You're so eager to wear my clothes, but I'm more interested in getting you out of the clothes you're wearing right now," Kouya murmured, hazel eyes staring into Yamato's blue with a promise forming in her gaze that made Yamato's alcohol induced excitement appear small compared to how she felt now.

"Only if I get to get you out of those, too," Yamato replied back softly, leaning in to plant chaste kisses down from Kouya's forehead to the tip of her nose, and her lips.

"I haven't taken a shower yet, want to take one with me?" Kouya proposed, making a devilish smile cross Yamato's lips. The blonde's hands immediately drew to the hem of Kouya's shirt, prepared to rip it off if she had to.

"Why are we wasting time out here then?" Yamato said in leeway of a direct answer. With a giggle, Kouya had grasped her wrist and was leading her towards the bathroom, the door open already as though awaiting them. Yamato kicked it closed, just as she finally managed to slip Kouya's shirt off.

Well I hope you all like the one-shots I'll be writing for these two. They really are my favorite yuri pairing ever, and I get so much inspiration so easily for my precious Yamato and Kouya. And I hope you all like the idea of Yamato being a model as much as I do, it fits her so perfectly. Well, hope you read, enjoy, and love me enough to review.