One Night Drabbles: One Night
Disc: Not Mine! Don't sue! Have no money!
A/N: I got this beta read by StarDrop...Thanks, girl! Good luck on your contest!
We keep this secret in our blood.
No paper or letters.
We pass just close enough to touch.
We love in secret names.
We hide within our veins,
The things that keep us bound to one another.
Until the last resilient hope,
Is frozen deep inside my bones,
And this broken fate has claimed me,
And my memories for its own.
Your name is pounding through my veins.
Can't you hear how it is sung?
And I can taste you in my mouth,
Before the words escape my lungs.
And I'll whisper only once...
The Secrets in the Telling by Dashboard Confessional
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Mikan watched the surrounding darkness warily. The sounds and sight of the forest that was usually friendly in the morning now took on a more forbidding cast.
Damn those stupid, stupid horror stories.
The sound of a broken twig caught her attention. In succession, she heard a heavy thud, a loud curse, and a flash of red.
It was the flash of red and the loud curse that did it. She squinted against the dark and saw the dark figure leaning heavily on a nearby tree, red eyes glowing in the shadows. "Natsume-kun. Is that you?"
After a moment of silence, she thought he wasn't going to give her an answer. Big surprise. Bitter and anger welled up inside her, surprisingly fresh, surprisingly huge. She started to turn away from those intense quiet eyes, but the low lazy drawl stopped her. "No, it's the ghost of Christmas past. What are you doing here, oujo?"
The nickname brought out too many memories and she didn't have the will or the time to dwell on it. Not with him standing in front of her with sharp eyes that could detect the slightest weakness in her. He'd sense it, hone in on it like a bloodhound, and then twist the knife a little deeper just for that extra bout of pain.
He was good at that.
She squared her shoulders. "I could ask you the same thing."
"Sneaking out to neck with Ruka?"
"Sneaking out to neck with Persona?"
"Low blow, Sakura." Her lips twitched, thinking of the wince that was sure to cross his face.
"If you can't take it, don't dish it out."
Because it felt like old times, she took a second to settle herself. A soft wind blew and she caught it, a scent that she once knew all too well. Blood.
It didn't surprise her when her heart still clenched with the thought of him hurting. "You're hurt."
Natsume huffed out a breath, not even bothering to curse. Not always the sharpest tool in the shack, but give her pain, give her feelings, and she'd sniff it out of you in record time. Silver outlined the dark as the moon came out of a cloud and he turned his head away from where he knew she was standing, looking at him with those big amber eyes.
He didn't want to look at her. "Go home."
"After I see how hurt you are."
"It's been taken care of."
He already knew her would-be-reaction to his lie before he heard the unlady-like snort. He tensed when he sensed her coming closer.
He didn't want to be near her.
"Go away." But instead of hearing her steps going further away from him, they moved closer. Typical, he thought, she never did listen to a word I said. "Didn't you hear me?"
"I heard you well enough. I said I'll go after I see how hurt you are. Didn't you hear me?"
Touché.
He didn't remember her being so quick with words. Gods, how he hated her. He straightened from his leaning position, stood a little taller, and was gratified with the slight hesitation of her steps. "I can take care of myself."
"I know you can." But do you?
Natsume hissed when she stepped into a shaft of moonlight, illuminating her silhouette with silver. Pain lurched in his chest, lending urgency to his voice. "I said I'm OK. Leave me alone."
The rejection hurt more than it should have, but she couldn't help reacting to the pain in his voice. "You can't always get what you want."
"That's one thing that you never need to tell me, youjo. I know all about not getting what I want." Remember?
"Just let me take a look at it, and then I'll leave."
He didn't want her to touch him; he couldn't bear it. It would just be too much. "No."
"For God's sake."
"I said no."
A familiar feeling of frustration bubbled up inside of her. "You're bleeding."
"So?" He knew he was being unreasonable; he knew that he was even close to pouting. A sense of déjà vu hit him.
They stared at each other amidst the shadows and starlight.
Crimson met amber. She hated those eyes, but she couldn't fight the same words, the same gestures. Scenes from their earlier years flashed in her mind. "This is not the time to be stubborn."
"It's as good a time as any."
The forest was too silent, too still, and even the wind blew in silence. Like a scene from a fairytale book, the silver tinted darkness was as familiar as it was foreign. Like the man standing in front of her, staring at her out of strange red colored eyes. "Can't you just let me see it?"
"No."
Tired of him, tired of trying, tired of feeling tired, she yanked on his hand. Mikan swallowed a yelp when the world spun in front of her eyes as he slammed her against the tree that, just a second ago, he was leaning against. A large strong hand was wrapped around her neck, the length of its fingers and width of its palm was threatening. But she remembered its warmth. She knew those hands, those eyes, that face…not anymore.
"I told you to leave me alone."
Suddenly she felt like those words were not just referring to her persistence for aiding him, but to something else. "Yes, you did and we all left you alone. We did what you asked because you were our friend and we respected your decision. But I'm not your friend anymore, so I don't care about what you want. I am not going to leave until you show me that wound."
She kept her eyes on his, even as his fingers tightened on her neck, pushing her harder until the rough bark dug onto her back. But just as Mikan would've given up, he took his hand away. "Fine. Do whatever you want."
She blinked when she felt the hot pressure of tears at those familiar words, but she pushed them back. She had already cried too many tears for him, because of him.
He sat on the ground and lifted his left hand where high on his arm was a knife wound. Blood oozed from the wound, congealing on the skin around it.
She examined it expertly, years of experience rushing back inside her mind. She rummaged through her bag for a flashlight and a first aid kit.
He looked at it and let out a snort. "You still carry that stuff around?"
She opened the kit and pushed the flashlight to his hands. "Habit. Hold this."
He looked at it and her. "Why bother? I can light this place up better than that thing."
She looked at him sternly. "No. Hold it."
He looked at it, rolled his eyes, and then aimed the light on her opened first aid kit. "Oh yeah, I forgot about your 'only use your Alice as a last resort' ideal."
She pointed and he shifted the light towards his wound. "You of all people would be better off if you followed it."
She kept her eyes on his wound as she cleaned it, especially when she felt his eyes on her.
"You of all people should know that I don't do ideals."
"You used to have them."
"'Used to' is right." He leaned back on the tree and tore his eyes from her, willing himself to relax and to not be so aware of her.
"Am I hurting you?"
He wanted to laugh, but instead he kept his eyes away from her. "No."
Yes, dammit! Yes, you're hurting me! What do you expect?
"The wound is too deep. It'll need stitches." She pressed her lips together when a slim knife appeared in front of her face. She slanted her eyes to him. "What?"
She knew. She knew what he wanted her to do.
"I take it that you still know what to do?"
Their eyes met. In acknowledgment of their time together, in respect of what they once shared, in trust of what they were about to do. Even after all this time, even after all the unanswered questions and hurt, the tears and betrayal. It was still there, between them. Inside them.
It was so ironic. In their earlier years, they would've laughed their asses off. But now, there was only a big gaping silence.
Mikan wanted to hit him, to curse him. How dare he? How dare he make me do this? How dare he make me remember? How dare he make me feel again? She wanted to rant and rave and rage, but all she said was, "I don't have a lighter."
He managed a sneer. "That's the least of my worries." He quirked an eyebrow at her. "You agree that this is a last resort, right?" He tossed the knife lightly, catching the blade instead of the handle. In no time, it glowed red and he held it out to her, frowning when she busily looked around. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to find something for you to bite on."
He scoffed, his manly ego dented. "Don't need it. Come on, I don't have all day."
"You should at least have something to distract you from the pain."
"What pain? Just do it." His impatient eyes shifted to her as she continued to dig through her bag. Her forehead wrinkling, her lips pressed into a tight line, her eyes dark and restless, her hair was falling over her face and shoulders to end well below her waist.
"You want something to distract me? Fine." He waited until her eyes shifted to his. "Kiss me."
Mikan felt a hand squeeze her heart and her hands paused inside her bag. "What?"
He kept his eyes on her face, and saw the shock blooming inside her eyes. His own face was unreadable. She was always so easy to read. "Kiss me."
She turned slowly, afraid that if she moved too fast, she'd undo everything that she had tried so hard to build. She saw his lips curve into a smile and glared at him.
"Serves you right if I take that knife and ram it into the wound."
Their eyes met in a battle of wills. "Do you want to? Here. Tonight, I'm all yours. Do what you like with me."
She looked at the knife in his hands, the blade still glowing with heat, and then lifted her eyes to him, but it was his voice that bothered her, how earnest and heartfelt it was. "That's not funny."
"Who's joking?"
"Is this who you are now? Is this the kind of person that you want to be?"
His eyes darkened at her disapproval. "This is the person that you left behind."
She couldn't hide the tears in her voice, the hurt on her face. "Youtold us to go. You begged us to leave you alone."
Crimson eyes blinked once, twice. "So, I did." A slow sweep of lashes hid eyes that were starting to show too much. "Enough of the past, let's talk about the future. So, graduation, huh? What…"
"Ruka and I are engaged."
It shouldn't have hurt. It shouldn't have felt like a thousand hot needles digging into his skin, but it did. Natsume's hold on the blade tightened, but he forcibly slackened his hold.
"Congratulations. When is the wedding?"
She kept her eyes away from him. "Soon." She shouldn't have been feeling guilty, ashamed like she was betraying him or herself, but she did.
"Sorry if I can't make it to the wedding."
Her eyes came back to his, and she saw his eyes shifting away. Her heart twisted. "Natsume…"
"The wound." He cut her off. "You're forgetting the reason we're here."
She looked at him, decided to follow his lead, and took the knife by the handle, slightly wincing at the heat that radiated from it. "Are you sure you…"
"Stop stalling." Natsume closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and leaned his head back against the tree, readying himself for the oncoming pain.
But it was another kind of pain that answered the call.
His eyes snapped open when he felt her, sensed her. Helpless to resist, he opened his mouth and tasted her. Groaning into her opened mouth, he raised his right hand, gripped her hair, and devoured.
Love, he always thought, was just another pretty word for madness. And hewas mad, crazy and insane with it.
Because there was no other explanation for these feelings that raged inside him. No other reason why he still felt like this, even after eight long years. No other reason why he would be touching this woman like she was the very thing that he'd been searching for all his life…why, deep inside of him, he felt like she was the only answer to his many unanswered questions.
Drugged by the taste of her, his senses blinded by her, hungry for more, he didn't feel the hot knife that was pressed against his injured skin, causing it to sizzle and burn, closing the wound. He didn't feel the sting, the shock that should have made him scream in agony because another touch was burning him, scalding, bringing him pain that was bigger, deeper, more overwhelming. But it was a pain he'd rather feel than not...and one that ended all too soon.
Mikan pulled away, his fingers dragging along a strand of her hair, and gave him back his knife, her eyes lowered to the ground. She quickly dressed his wound, and then packed her stuff away. All the while very much aware of his eyes following her every move.
"Are you going to tell Ruka?"
Her hands twitched on her bag. "There's nothing to tell."
"Right. I hope you don't make a habit of kissing strange men and not telling Ruka. Even I know that's not a good way to start a marriage."
The slightly mocking tone in his voice was the last straw. She whipped her face towards him. "What do you care? You wanted to be alone. You didn't want to be with us. You threw us like we were soiled rags. So don't pretend like…"
She clenched her eyes tight when Natsume grabbed her nape and covered her mouth with his. He tasted her tears and lips in one long hard kiss, remembering again how it felt to be…happy. He wrapped his arms around her, held her close as if he meant to keep her in his arms forever. "Don't ever think that I don't care. I care, damn it." Maybe just a little too much.
He pulled her in tighter. "You and Ruka have to be happy, do you hear me? You're going to have a family, a happy home to fill with children and pets until you're old and grey." When she sobbed and hugged him back, he buried his face in her hair and breathed her in. "Promise me, oujo."
"I promise."
He shut his eyes tight, and then quickly pried himself away and stared at her. Her face was drenched with tears and he winced playfully. "God, I forgot how ugly you look when you cry. That's an image I'd rather not remember."
She gave a watery snort and punched his uninjured shoulder. When she just stood there and stared at him, he grasped her shoulders and turned her away. "Run and don't look back. Tomorrow, you'll be free."
Her feet followed his command and she didn't look back, even when she heard him whisper her name, right there, exactly where he said her name for the very first time. His voice whispering her name echoed in the night air.
She felt her heart expand with all the love she had for the boy she met when she was ten-years-old returning tenfold with every step she took just by the very mention of her name. She didn't need a declaration of love or fancy poems written in a skillful hand; she only needed him to say her name because in that one word laid the answer to her unanswered question.
He loves her.