Opposites

Soft steel. Coarse silk. Kaleidoscopic focus. Tactful bluntness. Sophisticated layman- Is laywoman a word? Realistic metonymy-

"Luka."

"Hmm?" Ravishment turns over and smiles- tolerantly?

"You're thinking out loud again. Laywoman is not a word."

"Ah. Thank you. Am I disturbing you?"

"Nope." Her anchor runs a hand through her hair. "Keep going."

"Mature naivety... Meek daring, ambitious contentment-"

"What's this character's name?"

She hums silently, spins her yarn. "Voice of the incoming, herald of that which will be."

"More riddles?"

"You're the only one I can do this with." She nuzzles into the warmth of Miku's neck, and her character reforms. "Ignorant knowledge, perfectly flawed."

"Hmm. 未来の声..."

"Decisive fickleness, plain beauty, sophomore."

"Oxymorons?"

"Antagonistic faces of a coin."

"Hmm. A person...?"

"Earthbound angel. To me." Her finger traces the tealette's bare skin, paints her bare back. "Ethereal reality."

Miku giggles, rolls and faces her again. "Stop teasing."

"Honest flattery."

"That's not a oxymoron."

"It isn't? Darn." She frowns, scratches her head. "Not improving."

"Who is it?"

"You, of course." She flicks her fingers, shakes her head. "I've nothing else."

"Wait, what?"

"Another-"

"Me? But I don't even have... Half, three fourths of what you said. If I understand them correctly."

"To me, you do. It's as plain as the sun will rise, as the wax and wane of the moon."

"What if I... I lose those?"

"Some things you just can't lose, love. They make up you, they shape you, they are you. And I love those things."

"Luka?"

"I can't come up with more because I can't put it succinctly. I love the way your coffee needs to have a exactly 5% concentration of milk, the way you fiddle with your hair when you're worried, the looping stroke you always do at the end of your name, the concentration you put into all your songs as if your life depended on it, the fact that you light up every conversation you enter, the fact that your smile just always makes me feel warm, that-" She inhales, "- you're you."

"O-oh?"

"Miku." Her hand traces, cups the tealette's cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too." She leans in and- she wonders how she ever managed to live without this for so long, the feeling of having someone you love in your arms and melting all that doesn't matter that isn't her away-

"You're doing that again." Her oxymoron smiles and kisses her again.

And that is all that matters.


I'm going to try and get these things up every three days or so. It's good catharsis.