A/N: Hello there! I am back with another KyouMado because I have a thirst for this pairing and there is no new story to satisfy it, and because I felt that the chapter I wrote for them wasn't enough. The idea was inside my head since last month but I couldn't find the time and silence to type it down. Enjoy the one-shot and see you at the bottom (where I am going to give all explanations).
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The story and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.
A Time to Love
Chapter 9: Sweet Dreams – Kyouya x Madoka
Sleep was a magical way to finish a day, whatever it was good or bad. Sleep, with the duty of helping the maintenance of mental and physical health, was what most were deprived of. It was a state of lessened consciousness and decreased physical activity, a finality, a way to new world, one that everyone revealed little by little every single night.
It was amazing and now Madoka didn't want anything more than to lose herself in its magic. But there was only one problem: she couldn't fall asleep. When she tried to close her eyes it stung, her head hurt and her stomach was somersaulting.
It was strange because Madoka was always one to fall asleep easily. She had never had a problem with sleeping before. All the brunette had to do was lay down, do her routine – which consisted in three little words whispered into the night –, and relax. She did all that, but still, she couldn't.
What was the problem now? Why couldn't she go to the dream paradise that was waiting for her arrival just round the corner?
Madoka whispered the words again and felt them in the air. They were sounding strained. Something was pushing down on her heart, squeezing it, torturing it. The words had no effect. No positive effect. So how come that that night — the night that she wanted to sleep the most because being awake, alone at night, was something she hated — she couldn't sleep?
The young woman felt like crying. Why was it so that she couldn't sleep only when he wasn't home? When his presence made the three words do their magic on her; why wasn't he there, beside her?
Madoka hated it. She hated sitting there, waiting for him to come home, so she could have a good night's rest. She hated sitting there in the darkness with the shadows overpowering her eyes. She hated the eerie silence that enveloped throughout the complex. She especially hated being alone in the middle of the night while creaks and thumps echoed throughout the rooms.
It often happened for him to come late at home. The male had his life and she knew she wasn't one to interfere. Sometimes Madoka felt like she really couldn't interfere, like there was a line between the two of them – one that only he was allowed to cross. But it was all inside her head.
It was silly, she knew, but sometimes she couldn't help but wonder where he'd been, who he'd been with, what he'd done… Not that Madoka didn't trust him. That could go as a joke and she would've laughed if not for the uncomfortable feeling she got in her chest. She was alone in bed and the darkness around her was making Madoka feel like someone was watching. It made her feel sweaty, so she got up and rushed from the room into the apartment's even darker hallway. If she hadn't know the rooms by heart, the young female would've never found her way unharmed to the bathroom.
She let the tub fill with steaming water as she undressed, her clothes shed beside the other change.
As the water was still running, Madoka turned to stare at her profile in the bathroom mirror. Surprisingly, it was big enough for the young woman to catch her reflection from head to thighs.
The female had often asked herself why Kyouya decided to stick with her; more than sure he didn't tell her why. Was it the way she looked? Her aqua blue pools of water slid along her petite form. Short, brunette hair; big, dark lashes coated, sapphire eyes; tender pinkish lips; soft features; slender neck; small and delicate shoulders; not too small, but not too big curves; slim waist; round hips; fair and scar-less skin; a nice pair of legs; it was an okay sight at last. She was sure she wasn't ugly, and if he liked her appearance then it meant that she was good enough to take to bed. But then again, if he wanted and chose girls after their physical appearance, Kyouya could've chose someone better looking than her: someone tall and curvy, with longer hair and all he wanted.
Maybe he did have other reasons for reciprocating her feelings and showing her sides of him nobody knew existed.
Maybe it was her personality that pulled him in. Something about her presence must have triggered this emotion in him that was not only for himself anymore. She still remembered how back then when they were still all saving the world with Ginga how she had called Kyouya a selfish, egotistical brat that only loved himself. Guess she was wrong after all.
The filled tub broke Madoka's musings about why her partner was so into her. There were too many 'what', 'why' and 'what if' in the equation.
The water was hot and Madoka hoped that after she could finally sleep, but still she couldn't help but whimper, "Kyouya," as she thought of how much better and easier it could have been if only he was there already and not who knew where.
After her bath was done, the young woman still felt restless and went to the small kitchen the apartment was provided with. She turned on a lamp, the light dim, opened the cupboard and took out what she needed for her drink. Madoka placed the kettle on the stove and listened quietly as it rumbled softly. Every utensil was put in its place, no dishes were left to be cleaned. There wasn't even a plate with Kyouya's diner on the table anymore. Madoka knew that if he wasn't home by nine, then he'd stay out late; so why let the food there and not in the fridge?
She snapped her head up as a piercing whistle erupted the silence, then she took the kettle off the stove and poured its content into a cup. She placed a single tea bag into the hot water and made a mental note to take it out in two minutes as she went to take a seat on the couch in the main room.
Blue eyes wandered around the walls and furniture around her.
It was his apartment – but now they were calling it theirs. It was a beautiful thing to hear in Madoka's opinion – that Kyouya wanted her closer, but she had always wondered why she moved in with him (not that he could've ever move in with her; she was, after all, living with her father).
The brunette guessed that money wasn't something easy to get to and a bigger place would cost a lot; not that she was complaining about the space. It was just great for two. Everything inside almost screamed Kyouya; almost every single thing was so like him; only the small feminine touches she gave to the apartment were whispering Kyouya... and Madoka.
Maybe later, she would think, maybe when they were married… but that was a long way to go. They were not ready for that step. Even if it broke her heart, Madoka knew that Kyouya would ask for her hand only when he'd be prepared for parenthood and starting a family.
It was hard for her to think of those things, beautiful things that could happen to them only if… If what? He would be more open, nicer, what? Even so she tried imagining someone softer and cuter, but that didn't gave her the excitement Kyouya gave her, it didn't make her blood rush at an impossible rate like he did, it didn't make her knees give up and her breath catch in her throat like the green head did. Because that wasn't the one her heart ached for so hard; he was the one and only that could ever reach to be her biggest desire.
And the thought alone made her heart break more and more.
Her soft hair loosened softly over her shoulders as she rested her head between her knees. She sat comfortably on the couch as her aqua blue eyes gazed over the dark, empty room. The windows were hidden behind curtains, like all the others, but she could make out the dim light of the moon blinking from between the crevice.
She tightly grasped the blanket that was neatly folded on the couch and placed it over her as she snuggled deeper into the warmth of the cushions. All of a sudden, it was too cold inside.
The short female closed her eyes and tried to daydream at last if sleep wouldn't get her.
She heard the door click open, and the lights flickered on. Madoka did her best not to shiver from the cold air that was coming from outside or not to squint from the light. She was feeling so sleepy that her eyes wouldn't stay open. Plus she wanted to see if her sleep faking was good enough to fool him. It looked like it was since the moment he saw her form on the couch, Kyouya turned the lights off and stared at her with surprise, his dark blue eyes widening slowly.
He had thought she would have been in bed by the time he returned home. He shut the door quietly behind him and took off his coat, placing it gently on the hat-stand. The male unlaced his boots and went past her to the kitchen to close the lamp she had let on.
The mug caught Kyouya's attention, sitting innocently by the kitchen counter.
He took a look at the now cold, colored water and the tea package that was located beside it. Black tea. It was always black tea.
Kyouya scowled at the sight. She did never drink coffee at night when she was in this situation. No, it was always black tea. Not even green; black – like the bangs she'd have after not sleeping the entire night; like everything he saw when he saw her cry in her sleep; like the bitter coffee he'd force himself to swallow as punishment for all he had done to her.
Kyouya was angry at himself because he did this to her – and he hadn't even meant to.
Of how much sleep he had deprived the girl, the green head couldn't say, but he could state that the lost hours were starting to show their result. He feared that if this continued Madoka would snap, and every sacrifice they had done to come so far in this… relationship would be gone with it.
The greenette poured the mug's contents in the sink and washed his hands. No, he wasn't going to let the only woman that cared so much for him waste herself away. No, and it was final.
That in mind, the male crossed the threshold and glared at the female on the couch. She was staring back at him.
"Why are you up late?" he asked after a few moments.
"I couldn't sleep," she replied meekly. "It's so weird without you next to me. It sounds stupid, doesn't it?"
He didn't know how it was better to answer her question so he just grunted and opened up the blanket she was tangled in. He took another glimpse at her and noticed how her hair was disheveled and how her eyes had started to form dark lines underneath them already. With one glance, he could already tell she was exhausted. "You should go back to bed."
She hesitated. She did not want to go to bed without him. "How about you?"
"I'll be there after I change."
She nodded and got up from the couch and made her way to their room. She tucked herself under the thick covers and lay quietly until she felt his warm body next to hers.
She had heard him come inside too after his shower was done, and the sound of clothes sliding against skin was making her shiver. The thought that she was in the same room too made her shudder more and Madoka didn't know whatever to be scared or more excited. After he got on his half, they were both quiet for a moment or so.
Her soft voice broke the silence, "Are you still awake?"
He didn't answer with any words but rather shifted his body and wrapped one arm around her, bringing her back flush against his bare torso – another thing Madoka knew she had found weird since their very first nights together; whatever the season was Kyouya would most of the time sleep shirtless, not that she complained; it was just a little… odd.
"I love you," she whispered softly. It was the same everyday. She would ask the same question and say the same phrase, but each time, she meant it. She needed it in order to fall asleep.
"I know." His response was always the same. Just that; nothing more even if he knew what she was waiting for.
"How come you never say it too?" she inquired. He had never told her he loved her, not even once.
In a way, he had showed it instead. The way he looked at her and nobody else, the way he touched her gently yet firmly, the way he spoke with her. It was different than the way he treated everyone else.
"Because it's stupid." His answer was fast to come as if it was that simple.
"You think loving me is stupid?" she asked, anger and melancholy apparent in her voice. She turned her body around to face him, her aquamarine eyes blazing with fury.
His rich gray eyes that held a hit of stormy blue remained emotionless. "I think saying it is stupid. It's overrated. Everyone uses it too easily for a different reason, yet it's supposed to be these strong words. Now they're just words, so why say them?"
What kind of logic was that? She settled down in silence and decided that his answer pleased her though not thoroughly. However, the brunette didn't think 'I love you' was that much abused. She thought it depended on whom you said it to.
"When I say it, I mean it." Her tone was full of sincerity and almost pleading.
"I know." And he did because it was just like her to.
"Will you say it? For me?" She wanted to hear him say those three little words once.
"No." It took him only a second to reply.
She hated the way he answered so easily, like he didn't love her enough to say those words though she knew differently – she assured herself it was different.
She tore her gaze away from his and whimpered, white teeth pressing ever so slightly into the tender flesh of her lower lip. The green head felt something shatter inside him.
"If I tell you 'Madoka, I love you so much that it hurts not to stay close to you; I love you because you're my everything and I couldn't stand to lose someone so special to me; I love you and I wouldn't want you any other way', would you let me sleep already or do you need some physical proof to my feelings to believe me?" he raised one of his green eyebrows as he finished talking.
Her eyes gazed into his. She could see that his usual emotionless eyes were once again cold but there was a remnant feeling of love. A wistful smile painted its way onto her face.
Madoka ignored the insinuation his phrase contained. "I love you too, Kyouya." Even if he hadn't exactly said the words, it was enough for the short brunette.
"I know." Never would he say it out loud but only with his eyes and his actions towards her.
He reached over and stroked one pale cheek, now painted red by her blush. Kyouya chuckled, "Go to sleep already."
And she did.
A/N: So, after a little more character analyzing, I found it pretty hard to say that 'Kyouya can be OOC in a romance story'. Please, we do not know how he'd act in a relationship: he could have all kinds of reactions (mostly if it is his 'first love'). He could still remain the cold and cool blader we know – only to show some little of his feelings – or he could get all embarrassed and shy because love is a very complicated emotion. I know what I am talking about – the thing can both hurt and heal. Anyway, there are so many ways of portraying Kyouya as an his older self (because they didn't add him in the Zero-G anime – yet, I hope at last; and I don't think that all of us ever read the manga). We don't know what could change or could not, what would happen and so on. Love makes us do the craziest things and it changes people (for both the best and even the worst sometimes).
Back to what this story is about, I think Kyouya wouldn't be the type to say 'I love you' easily. Many are like that and are still perfectly capable of showing what they feel – after all, love is not empty words, but actions. It's easy to say those three words and not mean it, but it's harder to say them when you really, really mean it because it's special and beautiful, and because it matters. And yeah, that's my opinion. I would like to hear what you think about the subject and with what other characters you find trouble when writing about. Another example: Ryuga, The Dragon Emperor. Don't even let me start on the possibilities.
Have a nice time,
BlackCatNeko999
