Their next outing was an odd one. After Komui's sick vacation time was spent, he had another meeting with Cross, which was two weeks later.

Normally very calm, the fine aristocrat seemed to be indulging in his alcohol, intoxicating himself. Perhaps Cross, too, also had his share of struggles? But Komui felt that it was none of his business, and therefore was uninterested.

Komui watched in disgust as Cross took another few gulps of his alcoholic drink. "Cross?"

"Yes, my love?" Even his speech was becoming slurred. Clearly, it showed through his choice of words that he was not in his right mind.

"I'm not your love." Clarifying for the second time that night, Komui attempted to continue, "But I think that you should stop drinking and start eating something instead."

Red eyes faced the wine, then faced Komui. "I'm… You're… my love."

"I don't think you mean what you say. Now please, eat some." Komui pushed the plate of meat in front of the man.

"Feed me."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"'F you FEED me, then I'll eat!" Slurred the drunken man.

As if speaking to a small, unruly child, Komui tried to talk his way out of the situation. "You're not a child. I don't need to feed-"

Frustrated, Cross grabbed Komui's slender hand in his own, and skillfully took a fork in the hand of the other. The startled other gently attempted to push Cross away, but his strength was superior.

"Cross, stop it." Carefully controlling his volume, Komui shook Cross's hand, hoping to release the grip. After another failed attempt, Komui stared directly into his eyes, not moving his glance away for a second. He wanted to prove that he, too, had a strong will.

Cross's face showed stubbornness, then hesitation, and then he sat back down on his seat.

Content, Komui took back his fork and began to take a bite out of his potatoes. The warm mush quickly melted in his mouth, but it only took a moment for him to realize that the salt was missing. "Pass the salt, please."

Nothing. No response from the other man.

Again, Komui asked, "Salt, please."

The dark-haired man felt movement from under the table. Exasperated, he blissfully ignored the action, but when he felt Cross's leg wrap around his own, his sigh caught in a squeak.

"Stop that! Don't!" Ah, I wish my face wouldn't get so red! He reached for the offending leg to pull it away, but the quicker man only brought them closer.

"Komui… I love you…"

"No, you don't! Ngah! L-Let go of me!"

"How could you… doubt my love for you…" As if hurt, Cross began to move away from the relieved Komui.

"Because you're drunk, and you have no idea what you're saying."

Cross's usually very prim-and-proper attitude melted away, as he half-sulked across the table. Paying him no mind, Komui only ate his meal faster. The sooner I finish, the sooner I leave!

"I wish… I could make you love me somehow." Honesty. Purity. Clarity. The words and how Cross said them almost made Komui's heart melt. It almost made him believe that, genuinely, Cross meant what he said. "You're so beautiful and smart and mature and kind…"

"Cross," Stopping their conversation was the smart thing to do, and intelligence was Komui's strong point. "I have to go home now. It's late."

"Oh." The drunken man's rambling speech stopped, obeying Komui's orders. "Bye bye. I'll see you next week, right?"

"As far as I know, yes." Collecting his things, perhaps quicker than usual, Komui turned to the door, yet stopped to hear Cross's farewell.

"'Kay. Night. I love you."

"I lo… Tch, good night."


Poor drunken Cross… I wonder if he even knows how to get home… Wait, "home?"