Warning, extreme fluff ensues. Good luck finding a pillow that could hold it all.
It was a seemingly small thing, holding the one person who made your heart leap, skip beats and soar. Even when that person was only held close to her heart, unbeknownst to them and denied wholeheartedly by her. The most intimate contact between them may have been shoulders bumping as they walked side by side, fingers grazing as she handed him an object, each occurrence leaving the one who noticed blushing and turning away, certain they were thinking something the other wasn't.
That was probably the longest stage in their evolving relationship, and by far the most frustrating and exhilarating as one misinterpreted or unintentionally hurt the other, setting them back a football field it took weeks to trek, or one sweet subtle action gone almost unnoticed sending them three fields ahead. Progress was slow and realization slower, but when faced with their other half what was inevitable became obvious.
She remembered the day as vividly as he did. Walking home from school, nothing special had happened other than it being a Friday, there were no holidays or kidnapping attempts that pushed them along. Wordlessly, terrified it was the wrong thing to do and yet positive it wasn't, she slid her hand into his as they walked.
He stiffened, unsure if she was giving him something and almost missing a step when her fingers interlaced with his. A hard knot in his throat made speech impossible. Even if it didn't he wouldn't have known what to say. He'd chanced a glance in her direction to catch her looking away, cheeks pink.
Her fingers tensed slightly around his hand. They held onto him tentatively as if trying something new, loosely enough for him to slip out if he so chose. A way out, if he so chose. He didn't.
Trusting in actions over his words then his fingers tightened around hers. She smiled into the sunset as they walked.
It seemed to embody the way they'd grown to depend on one another, gradually, slowly, but definite. Like the sun's daily crossing of the sky, too slow to see but whose change was undeniable.
Holding something so dear so close didn't seem like a terribly huge ordeal on the outside, but who is to judge the significance within the eye of the beholder? A loaf of bread is a day's meal for one man, an entrée for another.
No one could calculate the joy she received from forcibly requesting him to spend the night on countless evenings, holding back laughter as he rolled and turned on her bed trying to get comfortable.
He did his best to do so quietly and softly so as not to disturb her, and he wasn't unaccustomed to sleeping in beds, but hers was just... So soft. And so warm. The comfort was foreign to him, the feeling of safety and sense that he could simply let his guard down. The only times he'd felt this before was in very poorly made traps laid by amateurs. It was a new sensation, to trust someone as openly as this, to fall asleep when they could attack at any time.
He really was like a dog in a car and she bit her lip torn between guilt for making him stay with her and amusement at how adorable he was. As he rolled over again head by her legs, sideways in the bed she placed a hand on his shoulder. He tensed as he did when they were at school and he did something wrong but she merely made a soft "don't worry" sound in her throat as she rose from the head of the bed.
He was pushed onto his side and the hand on his shoulder slid down and under his arm. He rose his head as he felt a sleeved arm push from behind him and under his neck, resting it back on the blankets when the arm bent to cross his bare chest in a light hug while her other hand caressed his abdomen. A warm body was pressed against his back and though all his training and reflexes told him to roll over out of range, tuck his chin in, or at least place a hand along his neck so she couldn't choke him as he slept, for the first time in his life he trusted in someone more than his instincts.
"–you, Sousuke..." he'd heard the softest of whispers behind him. He made an inquisitive grunt, unsure if she'd said something but certain he'd heard his name. He felt her head shake accompanied by another "don't worry" noise and could hear her smile behind him, face nuzzling the back of his neck. Sleep came quickly in her embrace, the feeling of being so cared for and appreciated overruling his fear of ambush or sneak attacks.
To allow someone so close to the innermost chambers of one's heart, to leave oneself so vulnerable to hurt and betrayal, giving that person more power over oneself than anyone else ever would, is hard. And scary. And many would agree, stupid. The possibility of being cut more deeply than any sword or bullet could pierce with a simple action of that chosen individual now occupying the heartstrings in one's chest, the knowledge of how painful it would be were that devastating blow to come, the shattered trust, the sleepless nights, the wasted memories, the needless agony, would make anyone think otherwise.
But, as they would argue, anyone who would think otherwise simply hasn't met that person in their life. The person whose being so close made their day brighter, who had the power to make them cry but chose instead to make them smile, and laugh, and brought that look of pure contentment to their eyes by doing nothing more than laying on the couch with them on a summer afternoon. It couldn't be more natural to let that person into their life, in a way it was like they'd belonged there the whole time. It would be impossible to imagine another fate without that person they were so ingrained in each others' lives, and the knowledge that however difficult the road ahead became, whatever obstacles were in the way or curve balls the world threw at them, everything would be okay so long as they had each other. The rest of the world could spiral to heaven or hell, they'd found their place together. Letting that person in so close was the easiest thing in the world.
Holding another so close was like holding the world, their world in their own arms. Everything they'd ever need was right there.
And after their more-than-fair-share of expressing their passion for one another he'd lay panting in her arms, only a thin layer of sweat separating them.
He kissed her neck before rising, taking in her expression seriously. His words caught in his throat and she looked at him eyes half-lidded, catching her own breath as her fingernails loosened their grip on his back. He cleared his throat and tried again, looking into her eyes. "K-Kaname."
She made a slight "Hm?" sound appraising him from where she lay.
"I love you."
His expression was that of unfamiliar vulnerability, fear in his eyes of having made a mistake but with no past experiences or orders to justify to his actions. His face silently asked if what he said was wrong, if he was to be corrected and told to never utter such nonsense again, and she knew in that instant he meant those words.
The fearful look lasted only for a moment before she rose quickly to capture his mouth his hers, him lowering with her back to the bed as their tongues filled the others' mouth. When they broke she brought a hand around the back of his head, tilting it forward and bumping her forehead to his and leaving it there. Gentle brown eyes locked cool grey ones inches from each other.
"You better. I wouldn't know what to do if the man I loved didn't feel the same way."
No, to hold one's love may not seem like much to someone who didn't understand. It was an odd feeling, indescribable to someone who didn't get it yet immediately recognized by those who did. And the sad truth was that not everyone would have the opportunity to feel that amazing, incredible, blessed feeling in their chest when another kindred soul was pressed so close.
But for the boy and the girl lying in bed fast asleep, bodies flush with one of his arms under her neck the other across her waist, head resting on the fan of hair spread out behind her, knew that by destiny or luck they'd stumbled onto their fortune, and worshiped every day they spent together.
As always, feedback is appreciated! What was done right, what coulda been better, all that jazz.