Rated: K
Theme: Valentine
If there was one day of the year that Akihiro could say that he honestly did not and doubted he would ever understand, it would have to be February the fourteenth. He just did not get what was so romantic about one day every year where you wrote silly, wishy-washy poetic sappy-pap for a loved one, gifting them with flowers and little heat shaped cards…
… Hearts…
… It was all rather morbid if you thought about it. How on earth did hearts ever get to be 'it'? Really, all the heart was, was a quivering lump of bloodied muscle with long lines of purple veins shot through and slimy artery tubes dangling out… Not the most arousing of sights. But, everyone loves the heart. People might write that they 'heart you' and draw little cartoon hearts with arrows through them (again, rather disturbing), and there are heart-shaped chocolates that are rather popular nowadays. The more poetic soul might even write about 'elevated hearts' which was, if possible, even more unsettling… Who the hell writes about the heart scrambling up your throat? And what about 'starving hearts' or 'wounded hearts' or even 'a total eclipse of the heart'? Akihiro shuddered. If his heart were hungry, injured or blocking out the sun, he'd be on the first bus to the hospital.
But, to be fair, it wasn't only the heart thing that bothered him about Valentines Day. There was also the whole deal with the flowers. That was all rather unsettling as well, in his view. Oh, they were pretty, colourful things, to be sure; but if they had voices they'd be wheezing and choking because their pretty little stems have been snapped and now they're slowly starving and suffocating and dying a slow death in a crystal vase. How romantic. Really sets the mood.
So…
Hearts? Morbid.
Flowers? Murder.
Stuffed animals? Childish.
Jewellery? On his salary?
Poems? The sap he would have to write would probably kill his faith in his wonderful, beautiful words.
… So what the hell could he get Mao?
He couldn't afford anything nice, and the typical things were all –he shuddered– down right sinister. What could he give to a girl without making an idiot of himself? Never mind the fact that she wasn't just 'a girl'; her darling filthy-rich daddy-dearest was a single phone call away, so really she could have anything in the world if the fancy took her...
… Jeez, he sure knew how to pick 'em didn't he?
Okay… Thinking…
Aw hell, he didn't do mushy… And they weren't dating. Crap, he couldn't give her a Valentine's when they weren't even dating! He sighed and ran an agitated hand through his cropped brown hair, his eyes hard with determination as his mind whirred. So, that settled it. Her Valentine's gift… all he could give in good conscience… would be himself.
- - -
"MAO!" he bellowed, walking through the house and calling for his companion at the top of his lungs. "MAO! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE!!"
"Waddya want, Akihiro?" Mao called back, her voice laced heavily with annoyance. "I'm busy with dinner, so it'd better be important!"
Akihiro winced upon catching the odour that could only be Mao's cooking on the air. Breathing through his mouth Akihiro ventured into the kitchen where Mao was bent over the stove, stirring a pot of what may have once been cheese. "I wanted to give you something."
"Oh?" hummed Mao, intrigued despite herself. She turned to face him fully. "You got me something for Valentine's?"
"Yup!" Mao didn't know whether or not to be wary of the glowing triumph that spread across his face at his words. "Happy Valentines!" And, that said, he kissed her.
Flying purple pigs began selling tickets for sleigh-rides in hell.
There passed a month of Sundays.
The sun rose in the west.
Haji started a career as Chuckles the Happy Birthday Clown.
A whole lot of other idioms that are used to indicate that something will never happen came to pass.
"Gh… Gmhghhy… Gnahkkilkh… Gh…" Mao could only open and close her mouth while gurgling unintelligibly. "What… the… HELL?!" she eventually spluttered. "You kissed me!"
"Yup." Akihiro looked ridiculously proud of himself.
"Why?!"
"Be my girlfriend." It wasn't a question, and his sincerity took her by surprise.
"Wait… What? What are you talking about?"
Akihiro smirked and leant forward until his stubbly cheek brushed up against her own moisturised, exfoliated, toned and powered one. At this proximity she was flooded with his scent of stale coffee and cigarettes, and also something unnamed but exhilarating that was undeniably him.
His breath was warm in her ear, and despite herself she trembled. "Be my girlfriend," he reiterated, and she could feel his smirk. God, she both loved and hated that damned smirk…
She considered his proposition carefully. She knew she was attracted to him, despite her constant blustering and heated denials when the others sent her those knowing looks. But could she be his girlfriend?
"… Alright," she agreed casually, as though she were doing nothing more than commenting on something as inane as the weather. "I'll do it."
The smirk that curved against her shoulder broadened. "Good," Akihiro said simply, and kissed her again. After a few moments he pulled away, a flash of triumph passing across his gaze when Mao frowned and attempted to pull him back to her mouth. "Oh, and Mao?"
"Hm?" She fisted her hands into his jacket and tried to pull him in for another kiss.
"… The cheese thingo is burning."
Word Count: 935
BTW, I should probably mention that the problem with hearts was an observation made by the comedic author Danny Katz, which I thought was too funny not to share. Hope you all had a happy Valentine's Day, and I'll get cracking on all your suggestions soon! Ciao!