A/N: I have written so many one shots in this fandom that I will be nice and put most all of them here. This collection will be primarily Tokaku/Haru with some other pairings. Some stories may not be romance centric at all and will focus on a character. This will be multichaptered.
X
Tokaku's hand slipped into Haru's, and she wondered if Haru was aware of it. Haru was still unconscious, recovering from her injuries. The surgery had been immediate and since the first day Tokaku could visit, she always sat like this: holding Haru's hand as she silently apologized.
She had a feeling Haru had forgiven her already, but Tokaku wasn't sure if forgiveness would be enough. Even if it had been for Haru's sake, she still couldn't shake away the fact that she had purposely hurt her. And how was she to say it was for Haru's sake? She said that, and yet Tokaku knew the driving force behind her actions was to know for herself whether she was under the influence of the Queen Bee pheromone. To confirm her feelings. Wasn't that selfish?
She wasn't sure if what she did was right or wrong. All she was sure of was that she wanted Haru to open her eyes.
It had sounded so simple to prove her point by attacking Haru. She didn't consider the consequences, already accepting that maybe her feelings and Haru's feelings had all been a lie. She had brandished her sword, and made her bleed, yet the whole time she thought to herself: what if I can't do it? What if it's all a lie? I don't want to know. I have to know. I don't want to know...
Tokaku looked over Haru. Her hair was down- a rare sight. Tokaku remembered when she once suggested Haru leave her hair down.
"But then it gets in Haru's way!" she had said.
She was tempted to run her fingers through it, to stroke her cheek. During the afternoon, when the sun shone the brightest and warmed the room, she wanted to let her body fall against Haru's and close her eyes.
However much she wanted it though, she simply held Haru's hand. She noted how soft and fragile the girl's hands were. They were unlike her teacher Kaiba's or her fellow students'. While Tokaku's hands were rough and calloused, made for killing, Haru's were made to do the exact opposite. Haru could hold with her hands and love- not kill.
As the sun set, soaking the room in oranges and pinks, Tokaku said goodnight, squeezing Haru's hand. She rose to get up and stopped, feeling a gentle force tether her to the spot.
Haru squeezed back, eyes slowly blinking awake. Her gaze fell on Tokaku and she smiled tenderly, grip firmer.
"Don't go."