Summary: In which Mimi finds Yamato staring, and showers him with a hundred loving kisses.
Sometimes she found him staring. Not brooding or sulking but staring gently, blinking slowly, as if he were afraid she'd disappear if he moved too suddenly. Mimi would tilt her head to one side, her lips curling upwards in a smile and ask him 'What is it?' and he would shake his head, laugh to himself, tell her not to worry.
Other times, he would give her this look, like she was the single most marvelous thing he had ever seen and when she asked, he would only laugh, tell her she was being silly and ignore her tantrums.
But there were times when Yamato would stop whatever he was doing and reach out to touch her. Just a simple touch, like hold her hand, or touch her hair, or kiss her shoulder. He would rest his forehead against hers and he would close his eyes before kissing every one of her eyelashes.
"Sometimes," he would say, "I don't know what I did to deserve you."
And Mimi would shower him with a hundred kisses and feel him dissolve in her very hands, hold on to her as if he were holding on to dear life.
For Mimi, loving him was never a choice. He had shone like a beacon, she'd have been able to find him with her eyes closed. Yamato had been the only one for her, she had known it from the first time she had seen him laugh, far too gone already to consider that he was spoken for. It was not so simple for him, she knew. He had had to choose between the love of his life and his best friend, break someone's heart, perhaps more than once.
So when he said things like that, Mimi wanted to cry and kiss all apologies out of his mouth because loving him had never been a choice for her, but he'd had a choice, and had still chosen her.
She closed her book, sauntering over to him and settling in his lap, tucking her head between his neck and shoulder. "Let's go to bed," she told him, the words spoken against his neck and sending shivers down his spine, "You can remind me."