Hey guys, Yuki again!! Here's chapter two c: I'm afraid there'll be a wait for Chapter 3 because I have one fic to type and another one to write (I've owed her this for about 3 months :'D) but look forward to it!! I don't own DGM or any of the characters, Hoshino-sensei does!!
Confession
His room was neat, almost obsessively so. I stood awkwardly in the doorway as he dropped his bag and stood in the middle of the room. I looked around. The walls were white, uniform. There were no pictures or posters decorating them. There was the generic desk, bed, wardrobe and bookshelf. In fact, there was very little that marked this out as lived in. Even the bed was standardised, the only thing that stood out were a few books and even those were neatly stacked up, not dropped randomly as they would have been in mine. The blankness of the walls especially surprised me. I had seen the drawings that littered the inside of his bag, they were good, excellent even, so why? I'd have thought at least some of them would be up. Though if he spent most of his time in the library and only came here to sleep it would make sense...wouldn't it?
He turned suddenly, and, not looking me in the eye, gestured at the chair and muttered "sit down". I did, and looked at him. "What's up?"
"The ceiling," he said humourlessly.
"No seriously, what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong...it's just...hard...to say..."
"What is?"
" Well if I could just tell you like that it wouldn't be hard would it?"
"Of course."
"Umm...ohgod...I guess the best thing to do is just say it right?"
"Okay then...please don't shout, break something or I don't know, kill me or something please."
"..." What the hell was he on about?
"You are...a very good friend to me. And...I appreciate that, I really do! And I'm probably just another friend to you, just that library boy you hang out with after school. But that's not what you mean to me..."
I waited for it, waited for the inevitable 'you're a creeper, never talk to me again' or 'but I'm in love with Lenalee and if you continue to drool over me I'll bar you from the library and possibly tell the police.'
"Not all you mean to me I should say."
My ears pricked up at this. The slightest bit of understanding trickled into my mind, accompanied by the slightest bit of colour to my face. I opened my mouth but before I could say anything he stood up and said, more quickly than I thought anyone could ever speak and yet clearer than ever.
"You mean more to me than just a friend Lavi. I'm crushing. I have a crush. On you..."
"Lavi?"
I was...well I was in shock. The words 'he likes me back' were bounding around my brain, interspersed with swear words and strings of random letters normally associated with keyboard mashing. He watched me carefully, waiting for my reaction. Eventually my head cleared enough for coherent thinking, and the options presented themselves to me. 1: deny it (dismissed immediately as it was too painful to think about). 2: pretend everything's cool and that I don't feel the same way but we could still be friends (dismissed again as it was downright impossible). And 3: abandon reason and go with my impulses. I went with the third.
"Good," I said, getting up and walking over to him. "Otherwise I would have no excuse for doing this." And kissed him. Simple as that. It was so easy I had no idea why I hadn't done it before.
He didn't react at first, but eventually I felt the slight pressure of his hands at my chest. The meaning was clear: I'd love to continue this but my brain is in overload and I need to reboot it.
I broke off, and picked up my bag. "I'll see myself out," I said, and left him standing there in the middle of the room looking a lot like the zombies he'd been reading about earlier.
Awkward. The library could be described in that one word. For the past few days I had avoided it and, apparently, so had he. Now we were both back and due to the complete void in appearance of anyone else for the entire day the awkward level had risen to considerable proportions. I looked over my book at him and he quickly looked down at his work, a flush rising over his pale face. I blushed slightly too and looked down at my book. Almost instantly I felt his eyes on my but I decided against embarrassing him by letting him know I knew. Eventually I heard him get up and walk over to me but I pretended to be engrossed in my book, and didn't look up until he stood directly in front of me. "Sorry," he said. I looked up. "For not being here the past few days."
"I wasn't either." I said, for the sake of something to say. I didn't want the awkward silence to return.
"Oh." He said and it returned anyway.
And our reading resumed. Well, our pretend reading. Me, I knew that I had been staring at the same page for ages, not taking anything in, trying to convince myself to walk over to his desk, trying to nerve myself up. And him? I had no idea what he was thinking, or doing. His pen was poised on the page but as far as I could tell he hadn't written anything.
Eventually, I decided just to do it. I shut my book with a snap, and stood up. Slowly, hardly breathing, I began to make my way towards his desk. My god but this distance was huge! Maybe it was always this way and the awkwardness revealed it, or maybe it was a normal distance but seemed huge or...My thoughts trailed off as he stood up. Without saying a word or looking at me he walked off, down the shadowy rows of bookshelves. I dithered for a few seconds before following him. He had disappeared amongst the books, and I was considering giving up but suddenly caught sight of him. He stood by a wall hidden behind the shelves, staring at the ground. He waited until I stood opposite him before looking up. As caught his eye my heart started beating so loud I thought it would burst out of my chest. I opened my mouth at the same time he did. "Allen," I said.
"Lavi," he said. A millisecond's pause, nerving ourselves up maybe, but it seemed like a lifetime before I could get the words out.
"Will you go out with me?"
We smiled at our unexpected synchronisation. He looked my straight in the eye and whispered, barely audible, "with love".
I smiled, leant down, and kissed him. This kiss was nothing like the previous one. This one was deep and hungry and passionate. This was not one boy trying to calm another; this was two teenagers with emotions running high. This was not the tension, it was the release. This was his arms around my neck and mine at his waist; this was nails digging into skin. This was low moans and lust filled whispers, this was desperate kisses and feverish skin, this was fire and heat and passion. This was a longing, the deepest longing, to make him mine, truly, utterly, mine, to hold him and never ever let go. This was-interrupted by the click of the door opening and Lenalee's voice calling out "Allen?"
"Dammit," he muttered against my chest.
"I was so willing to lose my ears."
He smiled up at me, kissed me lightly, and then ran off to help Lenalee.
