Misaki stood outside of the hotel door. She had been told that he would be here, but she didn't know whether to believe it or not. She had been lied to and drug around and made the butt of the joke so much on this trip that something as simple as knocking on the door seemed to be full of terrifying and possibly embarrassing possibilities. And, God knows, she couldn't handle anymore embarrassment at this point.

She continued pacing back and forth, slightly limping on her hurt leg, weighing the pros and cons of kicking open the door to ensure his safety. She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't notice the very door she was threatening swing open until she pivoted on her heel only to come face to face with the green eyes she had been craving.

"Looks like it's all going to plan, unexpectedly." He muttered plainly.

"Usui! That's great! You're really staying here." Her chest already felt less tense with him around. Her breathing settling into a more relaxed rate rather than the labored sighs she had been taking over the last ten minutes. Little did she know, it was exactly those gasps that had clued Usui into her presence on the other side of the door.

He looked her up and down, taking note of her stance and how she was unconsciously keeping her weight off of her injured leg. "Come on in." He held the door open to her. "Your foot must be hurting."

'Leave it to him to worry about my pain first,' she thought bitterly, unsatisfied with his greeting. She had been hoping for more. More what, exactly, she couldn't say. But the blandness in his tone and his nonchalant posture left more to be desired. "E-excuse me then," she stuttered, sliding past him and into the privacy of his room. "What do you mean 'to plan'"? She peeked at him from over her shoulder.

"The doves." His expression was almost comical in its bluntness. His voice, monotone. "They seem to have been your friends."

Misaki whipped around at that to take a better look at him. Surely, he must be pulling her leg. But upon further inspection, she could find not an ounce of his usual humor. "I see." She uttered from under her breath, confused and slightly concerned. Her expression was too much for him. The seriousness and concern for his mental health so clearly written on her face. He couldn't help the chuckle that rose in his throat.

"Are your injuries really okay?" He managed to say, his laughter betraying him. He led her to the couch in the room, forcibly sitting her on it, trying and failing to hold in his chuckles.

"What?" The word tumbled out of Misaki's mouth with her panic. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." He chuckled once more. "I just realized that, as expected, he's no match for me."

'What is he talking about?' Misaki thought, 'No match for him how? I don't get it.'

Usui crouched down in front of her to look her in the eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, emotion oozing off of every word, "I'm sorry that I couldn't contact you."

Misaki dropped her eyes, evading the emotion in his. It was too much for her to handle after the less than enthusiastic greeting she had been met with. He seemed to be able to so easily flip a switch on his emotions. While she let everything out all the time, regardless of the situation. "I was really worried, you know."

He leaned his head down to catch her gaze once more, refusing to let her run away. "I know." He said, the emotion still there. "You couldn't take it and went to Miyabigaoka."

"Yeah. And I went through a lot of training that I couldn't understand. As well as various other things..." She trailed off.

"Yeah."

"Anyway, A lot of things happened before I came here!" Now that the words were coming, she didn't seem to be able to stop them. "But this is something that I never could have done alone. It's all thanks to President Igarashi." Her face twisted into a look of disgust. "Although it's annoying to have to ask someone like him for help - "

"I see." Usui interrupted her rambling. "So we really have to thank him, huh?" He said, back to his monotone voice.

Without warning, he grabbed Misaki by the waist and threw her over his shoulder before walking the short distance to the bed and tossing her onto the mattress. Before Misaki had a chance to react, he was already upon her, effectively blocking her in and keeping her from escaping. "I already know all about it." He said, ignoring her surprised shouts. "About how much closer you've gotten to him while I was away." Sarcasm dripped off his words as his eyes bore into hers.

'Closer?' She thought. "Have you misunderstood something? What are you talking about?" She scrambled to find the words, fearing burning fire that seemed to be growing in his eyes. "I mean, I owe it to him, but -"

"Misaki."

She stopped mid-sentence, blood rushing to her face. She turned away, trying to hide her blush from him. "You... Why did you suddenly call my name?"

"Call me by my name too?" The request was simple but so earnest that Misaki's blush only grew.

"Wh-what's wrong with you?" She stuttered, "Talking about that right now." She whipped back around to meet his gaze. "It's embarrassing!"

His face didn't change, despite her embarrassment turned anger. He had grown so accustomed to it at this point that he knew when to push his luck. And she knew that at this moment, after all they had been through, she would not deny him. "Since I have one," He leaned his forehead against hers and closed his eyes, reveling in her closeness. "I want you to call me by it."

Misaki paused, taking in his warmth. His vulnerability called out to her, made her want to hold him, to see him look at her with those eyes again. The ones filled with emotion. Emotion for her, no less.

"Ta.. ku.." She took a breath before trying again. "Taku.. mi."

His lips found hers instantaneously. He poured his feelings into it, and even though it was brief, when he pulled back, she was gasping for air. "Once more, Misaki."

"...Takumi."

His lips met hers once again, this time with more purpose. He did not pull away as quickly as before, allowing all his feelings to overflow into her. His hand came up to cup her face, gently but sternly keeping her from backing away from his advances. When he did finally release her lips, it was not to stop, but instead to guide her back to the mattress below her.

Once she was stretched out on the bed, his lips came back to hers. His body melding against hers from above, Hips nestled into the valley of her thighs. His kisses never once slowed, but instead became more insistent, more passionate. Lips coming together and parting, tongues dancing with one another, breaths flowing from one's lungs to the others.