Hi everyone! I just wanted to thank you all for committing to this fanfic, I honestly didn't think this little fic of mine would ever receive this much attention. So, I'm extremely grateful! While this fanfic won't have many chapters (I'm trying to keep it under ten) they will always be around ten thousand to thirteen thousand words, so hopefully, that's okay with you all. The nature of this fic is a character study of Shirou Emiya and his love life. Personally, I don't like any of his love interest in any of the fate routes, so I thought I would make my own following the events after Fate/Stay Night: UBW.
I hope you all continue to enjoy this work of mine, and also a big thank you to everyone who commented. I do read them and I really like hearing your feedback and opinions on my plot and characters.
Enjoy!
The sun was but a shy thing that morning. It hid, childlike, behind the thick of winter and did nothing to chase away the death-chill of first light. Such a lazy thing, this London-sun of theirs was. Shirou, however, could not complain too much. As he was in a familiar position.
It was rare for Shirou to be bedbound and bathed in the slight of a winter's sun. Normally, he would never allow himself such an indolent morning. It was a strong belief of Shirou's that if he was not up and preparing for the day ahead before the dawn stole the stars from out the sky, he was sure that the day was wasted. But, you see, Shirou was recovering from the night before. Tohsaka, ever the red devil that she was, had managed to coax Shirou into a night out on the town with a few of their friends. It was not often that Shirou would find himself in a muggy bar trying to pry drinks out of Tohsaka's hands. She wasn't a bad drunk, per se. Just…more aggressive and demanding than usual. With flushed cheeks and the occasional spilling of Primm's over the bar, it seemed easier for Rin to start more arguments with people, mostly Luvia, and force either Shirou or Leo into a drinking game. Participating in one often left Shirou dead in his stool, being the lightweight that he was, and Leo in need of the closest bathroom. The man could never hold his drink.
The only advantage Shirou had over Rin when it came to drinking was the fact that Shirou didn't suffer nearly as much as she did the morning after. The ginger had always been good at bouncing back from whatever position or condition he found himself in, Tohsaka, however? Shirou was lucky to see her emerge from the solace of her bed past midday. Typically, she would hobble around their flat in search of Shirou and stress the necessity of heavy sedatives and something greasy for her to devour. Shirou would sit her down, and have Rin drink a whole pot of tea for herself and nibble on buttered toast. Was it a form of punishment for making them both drink until they couldn't feel their legs? yes. Yes, it was. Was it also to help Tohsaka rehydrate and not have her upset her stomach further? Also, yes. Because Shirou was a weak man for many things; an aching and ill Tohsaka was one of them.
Currently, it was only nine in the morning, so Shirou had the liberty and time to lick his own wounds. Caring for his own hungover self wasn't difficult in retrospect, but a lazy morning in bed was needed.
Was it welcomed, however?
No.
Not when his hand, a wicked, wicked thing with a mind of its own, would little by little, steal its way down his hard stomach, to his navel. Then, without shame, to the thin of his waistband. Not quite daring to just dip beyond elastic and reach for something hot and hung. Yet, still audacious enough to torment such a concept with a finger or two tracing the line of soft hairs that bloomed from his boxers and stretched to the hollow of his bellybutton. Occasionally, they would skim just under the band of grey fabric and this hot, filthy excitement would seize him like Caesar did Rome – wholly and without remorse. A pathetic, dog-whine would pull from Shirou's throat at such an incident.
Such a noise had him flushed with humiliation and rolling onto his belly. Shirou smothered his enflamed face into the pillow and, just as the morning sun, hid from both himself and the slight throb in his pants.
Shirou was never one for feeding into his sexual appetite. It was rare for him to be so taken by a thought either erotic or lewd by nature. And on the handful of occasions that he did succumb to the law of attraction, it was mostly with another person and fueled more so by the need to be close with another, or by someone else's sexual curiosity. Shirou recalled the night he lost his virginity, it wasn't a night he usually reminisced about, but the sudden memory struck him. It was just over a year ago now, he had been eighteen for the shortest of times, and it was only a few weeks before when he was still seventeen, had he caught the eye of a girl from his General Fundamentals class. They had worked on a few projects together in the past, and she worked at the same café Shirou would irregularly buy his morning coffees from. Her name was Ariana, and she was awfully sweet and extremely athletic. Apparently, in high school, her soccer team had won the state championship. They got along well enough, her being half Japanese and all. It was nice to have at least someone other than Rin he could connect with on a cultural level. And while her Japanese was just as terrible as his English at the time, they were sweet on each other.
Tohsaka wasn't impressed with his choice of women, it seemed. And she wasn't reluctant in voicing her dislike of Ariana. Rin would go on about how Ariana wasn't really Japanese as she grew up in the UK and couldn't even speak the language; if Shirou wanted to experiment was someone of his ethnicity, then he should have stayed home and dated a proper Japanese girl.
Shirou, for the most part, ignored her.
They went on a handful of dates, before and after they took each other's virginities, but never really spoke of entering a proper relationship. And while the attraction was mutual, on a physical and emotional level, and the sex was tender and gentle and terribly timid, it wasn't enough to keep her eyes on him. It took a month, maybe, for Ariana to chase after another boy in their class. He was an American boy with short, box-dyed platinum hair and a septum piercing. And he was extremely passionate about human rights and the global treatment of developing countries and was very religious, but he also wanted to work at the UN in Switzerland and was a film fanatic. Maleek was an old soul and delightful guy to know. Shirou respected him and thought his world views were remarkable. Often, they would study together and converse over their similarly fueled ideals.
Ariana and Maleek were still together and Shirou was happy for them.
However, what Shirou wasn't happy for as of late, was his inability to keep his hands off himself and his unacquainted lust in check. Even in the mists of puberty, touching himself in such a way was a sporadic affair. Something to do once every blue moon, and as promptly and soundlessly as possible. As Shirou lacked a healthy sex drive for a teenage boy, he saw masturbation as a chore. Well, maybe not a chore as Shirou found great contentment in cleaning, but conceptually speaking, it seemed more of a box to tick off than an act he was supposed to lewdly adore. In secret, Shirou considered his atypical libido as a result of a lack of mental stability. Who knew, maybe his survivor's guilt and an excessive number of traumas killed his sex drive before he had even had the pleasures of entering puberty?
Shirou honestly didn't mind. He didn't particularly fancy the idea of being controlled by such a basic, animalistic portion of his biology.
But with his bed so warm, and his mind hazy from late intoxication, it made for a string of fabrications to intrude upon him and trigger his recently developed sexual desire. And they all centred around Lucrecia and that deliciously wicked charm of hers.
God, did he want her.
Shirou wanted her in some chased, Victorian-era way. The very sight of an uncovered ankle, and the sweetest and most tender of little deaths were upon him. He couldn't bear it, he had to turn his gaze away. Even the modest, slightest of nudity was too much for his soul to manage. The mere idea of Lucrecia's hand, the one ever soft and fine, touching his sent all nine hells upon the fair of Shirou's cheeks. O, to look upon Lucrecia was to look upon an angel and, at that moment, reinvent religion itself in her name.
Then again, Lucrecia was everything but holy. She had the devil's forked tongue and the eyes of something feline and bewitched. Shirou wanted Lucrecia, in all her criminal, bestial glory. He wanted her in the same primal, wild way in which animals want each other; untamed, and sadistic even. With the print of teeth on flesh and the blue of bruises on wrists and necks and ass cheeks.
Shirou took his hand and bit into it. He could choke down his moan but Shirou couldn't stop the rocking of his hips into the mattress.
God, he despised this.
To suddenly become a man so willfully conquered by the fierce and neurotic arts of eroticism… And in the name of some girl, he had met just under five months ago, whom he barely knew as a person, and who would barely pay him any mind most days.
Shirou would often find himself undone and groins hot the moment Lucrecia swayed into his apartment. Shirou had all but begun to ignore her, too. Unwarily cross with Lucrecia and what she was unknowingly turning (or maybe, intentionally. Hell, who knew with her?) him into. The need to take hold of himself and slowly, leisurely even, take his time luring moans and filthy, filthy words from his lips had Shirou frustrated beyond reason. Out of spite and a shattered sense of self-control, Shirou would lock himself in his bedroom or bathroom and stubbornly – furiously, even, bring himself to an undignified release. Or, if he was especially mad at himself, the ginger would sit in the bath and fill it with cold water until Shirou felt as though he had punished himself enough for that day.
Today with different, however. Shirou was hungover and in an oddly delicate state. So, maybe the rush of endorphins wasn't something he ought to abstain from in that moment. And while a deed disgraceful, and a poor reflection of his character, Shirou was weak and could not stop the stream of fantasies coming and pooling from all corners of his mind. Shirou was completely submerged in obsession. The subject? Lucrecia.
The lure of her; her eyes, her lips. How they would part and pout and screw tight when he rarely bested her at her own game. With him, reality shivered at the thought and image of Lucrecia and her lips, and what they would be like if parted for him. Their taste. And feel. And fullness.
Would she be rough and claiming with her kiss? Shirou pondered. Or rather, a bashful, curious creature and allow Shirou the role of initiator?
The roll of his hips, now a strong, driving force into the firm bed. Shirou felt that newly familiar heat of decadence swell and nip at the low of his belly. He wasn't close, but the gratifying build of pleasure brought a sense of satisfaction in of itself. Maybe this wasn't all that bad. With Lucrecia on his mind, everything seemed a touch sweeter. Tragically, reality struck and Shirou couldn't tease himself until he came in his pants like a sexual deviant. For, his apartment's intercom was buzzing something savage. The mere thought that others existing beyond his well-crafted world of unruly need and lewd delusions had Shirou fixed in place, a sudden cold spell taking hold of him. He was no longer hard.
Who could be at his door at this hour?
Shirou, still clad in his loose bedwear, threw on a night robe and crept out of his bedroom. He had to be quick to let whoever it was into the building if he did not want the constant buzzing to shake Rin from her drunken slumber. From personal experience, it was rather horrific to undergo. The severity of his actions didn't quite hit Shirou until he was in the kitchen and fixing himself some tea. How careless of him, to just allow some stranger into his apartment building without even thinking to use the intercom to inquire who the individual was, and why they were in need of either himself or Tohsaka. Shirou rubbed a hand over his face, trying to reason with himself. Spending the morning a droopy, sexually aching degenerate had gone to his head more than he thought.
Truthfully, Shirou shouldn't be as concerned with his own heedlessness as he was. He had the ability to trace and project the Noble Phantasms of history's most formidable heroes. He, Emiya Shirou, had survived and won the hell that was the fifth Holy Grail War. Shirou would consider himself reasonably untouchable for the most part if this were the standard human willing to take his life or harm him. Moreover, what assassin or morally corrupt, homicidal individual would buzz in if they wanted to take a hit out on him?
Despite Shirou's aptitudes in the art of not getting himself killed, it was still the principle of the matter which was up in arms. You do not let strangers into your home, the murderous kind or not.
Nonetheless, there was an assertive knock on his door.
With his tea left to simmer, Shirou went to welcome in his awfully polite executer.
When he did draw it open, however, at that moment, Shirou did truly wish for it to be an assassin greeting him at the door. Instead, he found the source of his erogenous daydreams.
"Lucrecia?"
Lucrecia, as gorgeous and inappropriately dressed as always, trotted into his apartment with a wildly animated look to her. Her eyes were wide and lively, her face beaming, and she bounced her way to his table holding two large, elegant boxes in hand. Lucrecia didn't bother taking off her shoes. She never did.
"Oh, look, you got a haircut. Thank god. And you're making tea? Well, aren't you spoiling me today, Shirou?"
Shirou was quick to shut the door and follow the brunette. Lucrecia placed herself in her usual chair much to Shirou's frustration. It had been two weeks, if not more since he had finally assembled the third chair for their apartment. Lucrecia despised their couch. Never went near the thing. She wasn't shy when voicing how distasteful and sore-eyed the piece of furniture was. Thus, she favoured Shirou's wobbly table and took comfort in stealing his assigned seat, more importantly. It was just over two weeks since he had built Lucrecia her own chair so that she would not continue cultivating a rather annoying habit. It didn't work. Shirou didn't believe he was a particular type of person. Yet there were a handful of things the ginger was quite fussy about. Seating arrangements just so happened to fall into such a category. So, Lucrecia monopolizing this part of Shirou's life while simultaneously disregarding his hard work and display of affability, stung a great deal.
Such behaviour seemed to be a common theme for their little cat and mouse game.
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
Lucrecia sighed as if it was obvious as to what she was referring to.
It wasn't.
"Where's Rin?" She started, smoothing down the front of her dress with the palm of her hands. She was wearing a ring. Shirou took to staring very hard at such a small detail, deliberately fleeing the formidable, raring eyes of Lucrecia. He couldn't. Not after entertaining himself with such private thoughts of her. Shirou went to fixing the tea. "I have to congratulate the both of you and I can't do such a thing if she's not here. It wouldn't be much of a celebration with a wet blanket like you, Shirou."
"Celebration?" Despite himself, he turned to her. "Why do we need to celebrate?"
"What do you mean? I thought you and Rin completed your second year of university the other day…" For the first time since meeting her, Shirou caught a glimpse of self-scepticism soak the deep dark of Lucrecia's eyes. She seemed completely unnerved by Shirou's confusion. "I didn't get the date wrong, did I?"
Shirou blinked once, then twice. "No, no." He poured them both a cup of tea, his lips set a slight, fond smile. It was endearing, yet strange what Lucrecia fretted over. Shirou wouldn't have guessed something as trivial as finishing the school year to be a thought that rattled around in her pretty little head. "Tohsaka and I did finish our second year of schooling at the tower yesterday. I just thought if you wanted to celebrate with us, you would have joined us at the bar…Last night. Did Tohsaka not invite you?"
Lucrecia took her china cup by the mouth. Yet, she parted the full of her lips on the rim, taking her time to consider a suitable retort while not presuming to drink from the teacup just. "No, I was invited. I'm just not one for bars. And alcohol makes me sleepy. So, I don't tend to drink out in public."
Shirou nodded, respecting her choice. "Smart. But what's in the boxes? More alcohol? It's a little too early to drink, don't you think? And Tohsaka is still passed out drunk from last night."
The brunette's daring grin returned, "don't be stupid. Alcohol is below me for gift giving. These are real presents. A congratulations for finishing the year."
"That's…Sweet, Lucrecia – really. But you didn't have to do that." Shirou tilted his head at her, striking Lucrecia with a baffled smile. "You're taking this rather seriously. Considering how you treat your tutoring sessions with Tohsaka, I didn't think education was important to you."
Lucrecia shook her head. "On the contrary, education is everything to me. To my family, it's a way of life. Where I'm forced to complete or continue my education, however? Well, that tends to determine my attitude and work ethic. But I believe that no matter where or what you complete your education in, celebration and gifts are always in order. My father always said that even the smallest of academic achievements call for the grandest of festivities."
Shirou took pause – Lucrecia was never one to be so open about her personal life. Like Shirou, she too was the private type. Tohsaka, being the intrusive or rather, prying person that she was, made a habit out of interrogating Lucrecia over more personal matters. Shirou couldn't blame her. Lucrecia – or more so her circumstances – was peculiar. It was natural for someone like Rin to want to probe answers out of her. Lucrecia, on the other hand, offered the same non-verbal reply each time. A simple, gutting smile. One wicked and thick with cattish charm. It often reminded Shirou of a grin one would normally see on the face of a con artist. A wild concoction of lure and chance with a dash of ambiguity. Such a smile, a gamble taken willingly and gullibly by her mark if anything. Once you were drawn in, you had lost the game long before the rules had even been announced. A smile ever so slightly twisted with dark, cryptic insight. The brunette was aware of something that Tohsaka and he were oblivious to.
It was obvious – how intoxicated Lucrecia was when playing the role of the unknown. She took great comfort in it.
To break character and release something that seemed so personal about her life…Shirou wanted to know what changed. What aspect – what great feat did Shirou prevail in Lucrecia's eyes to be worth such information.
"Don't worry," Lucrecia continued. "I'm very good at gift-giving, and I know for a fact Rin will love what I picked out for her. And I know you will appreciate what I chose for you. I'm sure you'd even go as far as to think it was rather ironic of me to gift you such a thing. I have money on you giving me a good lecture after this."
Lucrecia looked so proud of herself. With her chest puffed and her smile stretching so far apart that Shirou could spy the whites of her teeth. It was absurd. She gave the same impression a child would Christmas morning. Yet, it was Lucrecia who was the one to gift the presents instead of the one receiving.
She nudged closer one of the chic boxes to Shirou, "go ahead. Open it."
Shirou considered Lucrecia for a moment, then the box, before signing and sending a set of kind, shy eyes the brunette's way. Slowly, he began to undress the box of its ribbon and lifted the lid. There, in the folds of white, delicate packaging paper was a coat. It was simple looking enough yet notably exquisite to the eye. The whole coat was a striking black, the voluble, sleek type rather than the shadow-swallowed, lurking kind. To the touch, it was incredibly soft and thick with a fur collar. Shirou had never come across such a material, one which both felt and looked expensive. Shirou didn't dare peek at the label of the coat just yet. He needed to process what was in his hand currently.
Shirou was utterly lost for words.
"It's cashmere. So, if you want it at its best, I think it would be wise to start wearing it now in order for it to really soften up for the thick of winter."
"You bought me a…coat?"
Lucrecia was offhandedly stirring a teaspoon full of sugar into her brew as she addressed him.
"Yes. Yes. You always tease – or rather – lecture me about how cold I must be without a coat of my own, so I thought this would be a good…? what do the English call it? a gag gift? I think I've misused the concept – eh, whatever. Oh, and that one time you tried to pawn off that god-ugly, rag of a coat to me also influenced my decision." Lucrecia gestured her spoon at him, a serious air about her. "You are to throw that old thing out, by the way. I don't want to see you in brown anymore unless it is the right shade for your complexion."
Shirou was gawking shamelessly at her. Not only was she gifting him this brand of coat, to begin with, but Lucrecia also thought that this present was in sorts with a joke gift. It was hard to miss the tasteful card on top of the coat which clearly declared the coat to be a product of Dior. It was one of the high-end brands Lucrecia would often prance his halls in. Why in hell she was gifting him such a luxurious item for doing the bare minimum? Shirou felt himself sink into the bare bones of his chair. Lucrecia had just possibly gifted him two, maybe three months' worth of rent for his apartment. Like it was nothing.
Good god, what the hell was this girl.
"Lucrecia…" Shirou breathed. "I can't accept this."
Lucrecia pretended to think for a moment, "no. I don't like that response. Give me a new one."
"Lucrecia. I'm serious. This…Hell, I don't even want to know how expensive this coat was." The ginger moaned and began to repackage the box. "I'm sorry, Lucrecia, but please take it back. Tohsaka's too. Please. This is too much. You need to worry about your future, not using your savings to buy Tohsaka and I lavish gifts. We can't accept this."
"God, you're an idiot." Lucrecia mutter around her teacup. "If you truly think I had to use my savings to buy you Dior and Rin, Burberry, then you obviously don't pay the slightest bit of attention to what I usually wear."
Shirou squeezed his eyes shut, trying to snuff the flare of irritation catching within his gut. It wasn't the ridiculous amount of money, per se, which was mainly bothering him. Shirou could easily deduce what type of lifestyle Lucrecia was born to. However, it was the principle of the matter and the perception that wealth did not last eternally. Besides, this behaviour or mindset was not appropriate. Lucrecia did not have to buy their friendship.
"No. I can't accept this. Nor can Tohsaka. It doesn't matter what lifestyle you live. This isn't right."
The brunette in question was quiet for some time, and Shirou dared to reopen his eyes. Which after found Lucrecia's dark set, Shirou instantly mourned such a connection. Her eyes brewed with forlorn rage. And her lips tucked into a deep, tight frown as her eyebrows drew in. Lucrecia had never appeared so up in arms.
"But I want you to have it." Lucrecia bit out. "So, you must accept it. I don't understand why you even thought 'no' was an option."
Shirou stared at Lucrecia flatly, her bratty arrogance piercing into his words. "I said no, Lucrecia. I'm not accepting the coat. That goes for Tohsaka, too."
For a while, they gazed into each other's eyes. Equally shocked at the other's thought processes.
Suddenly, Lucrecia's eyes hardened.
"Fine." She snapped, rising from out her chair in a manner that had Shirou's gut turning a fine liquid and sent running down his leg. Perhaps he did misstep somewhere. "Use it like a goddamn welcome mat for all I care, but at least give Rin the chance to make her own damn mind up about the gift before you find the time to get off your high horse, asshole."
Lucrecia made her way to the door, a rather threatening sort of heat to her step. Still, that wasn't enough to keep Shirou from licking at her heel like a shadow at chase. This was not how he wanted this to go.
"Lucrecia, I didn't mean to upset you."
"Congratulations. You failed."
"Lucrecia, please. I'm sorry it came off like that."
"Fuck off."
Shirou took Lucrecia by the wrist when she trimmed dangerously close to the front door. In just five months of knowing her, Shirou had yet to lay but a finger upon Lucrecia. She was so warm.
"Look, I'm sorry I upset you. I know it…Must hurt for me to reject your gift, but you don't need to buy our friendship, Lucrecia."
Lucrecia turned around to size him up, a scorned, twisted sneer seized control over her face. Shirou needed to take a step back in order to avoid the snap of her jaw as she seethed at him.
"O! Leccaculo! You think I need to fucking buy your time?" Lucrecia spat. "I just wanted you two to have a damn gift – just something nice for completing the school year!"
Shirou felt himself blink a ridiculous number of times, trying to comprehend the girl in front of him and her logic. She just made no sense to him. Lucrecia was all want. Even when the element of others came about, it was still what she wanted for them.
"Don't storm off, Lucrecia. I didn't mean to upset you like this. Let me fix this."
"How are you supposed to fix this? You don't want the gift – you don't like it. There's no fixing that, Shirou."
"It's not about me wanting the coat." Shirou signed. "Lucrecia, I can't want the coat. I haven't done anything to earn it. It's not right."
The brunette shot him a weird look. "That is so stupid."
Shirou frowned, "it's…Not stupid. I'm not like you. I don't just want things for myself, I guess."
"Again. Stupid."
The ginger's scowl sunk deeper. "You're so mean, you know. And you have a lot of different accents. It's hard to understand you sometimes. Especially when you're yelling at me. I'm not used to it."
"Don't worry." Lucrecia started, but she didn't bother switching her tone to something familiar. It was out of spite. Shirou could tell by the way her lips arched briefly into an almost-sneer. "If I knew how to tell you to eat ass in Japanese, I would. But my mother never taught me how to curse in Japanese."
"You know Japanese?"
"I know enough. So, I find it very amusing when Rin tells you in Japanese that she wants to throw me out the window most days."
Shirou's cheeks burnt. "Oh," he felt foolish to believe that such conversations could be kept private when in the presence of such an anonymous force such as Lucrecia.
"Hmm." Lucrecia looked down at the wrist Shirou still had his hold on. Given, it wasn't at all a tight hold, yet the heat from his hands was enough to make it notable. "Am I going to get my hand back or do you have to earn something to want to let it go?"
Shirou snatched back his hand, yet continued to pin Lucrecia with honest, raw eyes, "right. Sorry. I know you're mad at me but don't go. I am sorry. I never intended to upset you like this. We can work this out, so, don't walk out on me, okay? I know how to fix it…I think."
"O, you think?"
Shirou nodded his head. He did think. Because Lucrecia did this wonderful thing to his mind where he did not know what made sense or what he should be sure of. She had a nasty habit of turning Shirou on his head.
"Yes. I do." Again, he nodded. And the look Lucrecia returned in kind made Shirou contemplate he was doing more to convince himself than her that he knew what was going to come from his mouth next that could somehow smooth this whole thing over. "Maybe…You should come to dinner a few times. Let me cook for you. You know, actually earn the present somehow. I'll feel better about the coat, after that."
Shirou considered the brunette before him. Indeed, Lucrecia's bottom lip still dripped into a sulky frown but her eyes, as always, dissected him on the spot with their keen scrutiny. Even when she provoked an unacquainted outburst from him, Lucrecia still held enough power over Shirou to devour him whole with a simple look.
"And you will accept and wear the damn thing if I come to dinner?"
"If you come to dinner a few times? yes. I will."
She thought for a long while after that. And Shirou felt himself become a thing made of anxious wonderings.
Was she going to say no?
"I'll…." Lucrecia began, her hand taking to grasp the door handle. She had it in a death grip. "I'll have to see. You've really pissed me off, Shirou."
A lick of a second passed before Lucrecia was already out of the door. The slap of old wood being the only respire of new sound within the apartment for some time before Shirou found himself scraping back one of the kitchen chairs along the floor. He needed a seat.
Lucrecia had said she was pissed at him. Though, to Shirou, it sounded raw. Achingly raw, even. Like a freshly received cut from a knife long rusted and blunt and broken at the end.
You've really hurt me, Shirou.
The young hero suddenly embraced the need to expel the vile that rumbled in the deep of his gut.
It wasn't from the hangover.
It took the better half of two weeks for Lucrecia to announce her decision to both Rin and Shirou after one of her tutoring lessons.
"I will be staying for dinner tonight. But I want Sanuki udon. With no iriko. I don't like sardines." The brunette said, turning away from the rim of her teacup to address Shirou. Her tone, a thing casual, as though she would normally order him around the kitchen.
She didn't.
Shirou, who was cleaning their plates from supper, fixed in place. Ever since their tiff, Lucrecia had grown stiff around Shirou, holding her tongue completely at the mere sight of him. She grimly paid no heed to Shirou and his existence. For once, their interactions held no flavour or flame, a thing completely vacant of familiarity or fluency; left without a drop of tenderness. Though, unlike before when Lucrecia would ignore the ginger, Shirou was confident that was part of the little game they would play. When Lucrecia would ignore him, it was to purposely rile Shirou up - keep him on his toes and her on his mind. Lately, however, it was a kind of punishment. A heartless, ice-kissed punishment. Their welcomed, sort after banter, and impish baiting suffered dearly because of this. The impersonal exchanges were rather loud despite the lack of words shared between either Lucrecia or Shirou. It upset the atmosphere for their small London flat.
It even seemed to trouble Rin.
"You've done something to upset her." Rin had confronted him only a few days into their somewhat discarded friendship.
"I have," Shirou confessed. They both sat side-by-side on the couch Lucrecia despised so much. Shirou felt as though he was atoning in some bone-broken confessional booth. The ears of a ghost, long haunted and holy being the only one to accept his sins. A raw swell of shame took shape and coiled, serpent-like, around his throat. It tasted like religion – like freshly bitten fruit. It suddenly hurt to speak. "And I don't know what to do to fix it."
"Give her time."
"I thought you didn't want us close. Why are you trying to help?"
He remembered how mouse-quiet Rin went after that, and how she refused to directly regard him when she next spoke.
"Yes. I didn't want you two close. I don't think a person like Lu would be…good for you." Rin confessed. "But I've never seen you so miserable before. I don't like it."
Shirou ended up taking Tohsaka's advice. The most he would dare to interact with Lucrecia was when he was walking her out the door and handing her, her coat. Sometimes their fingertips would briefly meet, and Shirou would feel as though he had just stolen a kiss from her. Sometimes Lucrecia would grab her own coat and Shirou would wait by the door long after she had left. His need – the one set on hellfire and burning him all over – to catch her hand, her eyes, her attention, and plead to Lucrecia how woefully sorry he was. Sometimes, Shirou could admit to what a truly pitiful bastard he was.
So, after almost two weeks, Lucrecia's eyes drifted so naturally over to him, and she finally spoke a few words. Shirou would proudly confess to the rat's nest of nervousness that sprung from the pit of his stomach if it meant he could truly apologise.
She wanted him to cook for her…
"I can do that," Shirou said slowly, he tried to keep his tone measured, and match her indifference. Yet, he spoke softly. And when their eyes married, Shirou had to suck the roof of his mouth to draw what little moisture he had left to continue their conversation. "Would you like dessert, too?" He whispered, liking to – no, needing to continue the conversation.
"Fruit would do. Do you have persimmons? They're in season."
Shirou bit his tongue, "no. We don't. But we have a bunch of blackberries and strawberries. Tohsaka's going through a phase."
"They will do, too." Lucrecia turned her lip up impishly. Across the table, Rin scrunched up her nose and slammed the collection of textbooks in her hand back onto the cheap wood.
"I'm not going through a phase, Shirou. I'm not some toddler! And I am not sharing my berries with her!"
The brunette's lips thinned even more wickedly. "Play nice, Schatz."
Oh, that was a new development between the two women, too, Shirou had noticed. It started a little before his and Lucrecia's argument. Apparently, Lucrecia was well versed in a multitude of languages. German being one of them. Though, she confessed that she was better at reading and writing the language than exchanging it orally. Still, Tohsaka was not impressed.
"Don't think I won't hit you, Lu. You're not cute." Rin threatened, "I speak German, too. I know what you're saying!"
Lucrecia's eyes lit up. "O, but it's so fitting, Rin! You're a jewel that works with jewels. It's perfect for you."
Shirou couldn't help but spy over to where Tohsaka stood with her hands balled at her hips. Rin, for the most part, was a red mess of flared cheeks due to Lucrecia's strangely sweet words.
Stubbornly, she stormed away from Lucrecia and took to her room with her textbooks in hand.
"Oh, shut it, you!" Rin was quick to shout. Yet a thick, revealing blush had swept her features and only acted as gasoline to Tohsaka's explosive nature.
Lucrecia enjoyed teasing Rin with words of honey just as much as she enjoyed teasing her with words of lime. To the brunette, any reaction was a good reaction. Even if that meant having to dodge a flying textbook.
With Rin safely in her room and out of Lucrecia's paws, the madness began to settle. Though, Lucrecia seemed satisfied with herself, still. Grinning over the rim of her cup and sighing kindly to herself. The steam would reach up and press the shy of its lips to her nose; it left the tip, as well as her cheeks, much like the tea itself. A deep, glossy rose. Shirou couldn't help but stare.
"Dinner should be ready in the hour," Shirou said. He had already begun to pull apart the fridge for the needed ingredients. If Shirou was a stronger man, he would have asked if Lucrecia were content with having omurice instead of the udon she so wanted if he did not find the right essentials required. Luckily, Shirou was almost always prepared and could easily improvise a dish as easy as Sanuki udon with no iriko.
"There's not much to do around the apartment to entertain yourself in the meantime. Sorry about that." Shirou continued, a sudden burst of awkwardness erupted through him. He didn't know how to act with her eyes finally on him once more. Did this mean they were okay? Lucrecia was talking to him. Though, Shirou wouldn't put it past the brunette to only engage in conversation with him in order to get what she wanted.
"I heard you wore the coat." Lucrecia addressed, and she did this thing with her tongue where she sucked the back of her teeth to create a rather sharp 'tut'. "Rin said it looked good on you. A shame I couldn't see it for myself, I do love to be proven right."
Ah, yes, that bloody coat.
A frown hung the ginger's lips. It was only a day or two ago when he wore the damn thing. The weather was criminally unkind, and the wind had this unusually arctic bite to it. The slightest of draft cut the very tender of your exposed cheeks and painted the colour of your breath a death-ridden, ice white. Only a fool would dare venture out into such weather, but then again, Shirou had a shift he couldn't afford to miss before the holiday break. It took Shirou the better half of his afternoon debating with himself if he should even dare think about considering the coat Lucrecia had gifted him. It wasn't until Tohsaka threw a fit, as well as the designer coat in his face that he shamefully tugged on the item of clothing.
It was almost nauseating, how agreeable the coat was on him. Unsurprisingly, Lucrecia had great taste.
Shirou had never been more upset with himself. He had never been so warm and comfortable in a coat either.
"I told you before, Lucrecia," Shirou spoke. Again, he could barely manage to hold his tone above anything more than a mumble. "If you come to dinner, I'll wear the damn thing."
"What do you think I'm doing now?"
Oh.
Shirou stopped in his tracks.
Lucrecia wasn't upset about how their argument ended, as Shirou originally thought. Her pride was still bruised by how he rejected her gift.
"I know I say this all the time, Lucrecia." The ginger replied, a little breathless. "But you really are a brat. You've barely spoken a word to me these past weeks. I've been so sick with the thought that I hurt you I could barely sleep. But if anything, I've just hurt your silly ego."
Lucrecia shrugged, seemingly untouched as always, "whatever I may be, Shirou, I still got you to accept my present. So, there's no need to further punish you. Everything can go back to the way it was. Only now I will be staying for dinner a few times a week, it seems."
Shirou was determined not to expose his teeming irritation and prove to Lucrecia that she was, in fact, right – they could now return to what they used to be on her demands alone. No matter the games she subjected him to in order to get there. According to the brunette, Shirou had served his time and even atoned for his great sin of not originally accepting her ridiculously extravagant present.
"Get over yourself." Shirou snapped over his shoulder. "And while you're doing that, go wash up and call Tohsaka down for dinner. It will be ready soon."
Lucrecia smirked at him and made a show about getting out of her chair.
"I must admit, I did miss that temper of yours, Shirou."
Shirou frowned. "Shut up. I don't have a temper."
"Hmm. Sure, you don't."
There was a wink and suggestive strut up the stairs of their apartment, and as always, Shirou couldn't help but watch Lucrecia leave.
Lucrecia was a slow, impassive eater, it turned out. There was little out of her the moment Shirou placed a rather large bowl of udon in front of her. Unlike both he and Tohsaka, Lucrecia did not tend to herself during supper. She refused to touch even a crumb whilst tutoring with Rin. Shirou suspected that the brunette ought to be famished. Though, he shouldn't be all that surprised by Lucrecia's dining habits. The ginger had seen how she would nibble on the various sandwiches and apple slices he made. She often reminded Shirou of a rabbit with her petite mouthfuls and the neatness of it all. It only took the snap of her eyes to remember that Lucrecia was rather more snake-like than bunny. She may take her time cleaning her plate, but with just her gaze alone, it was clear that Lucrecia long but mastered the art of swallowing those around her whole.
Nonetheless, it was nice watching Tohsaka and Lucrecia eat and bicker with one another.
Rin was more of a destructive eater when it came to sandwiches, often leaving a hill of crumbs on the table or a scatter of them along the pages of her textbook. Still, it was nice. It was obvious how close the girls had gotten over the handful of months of Rin tutoring Lucrecia. Shirou often caught them gossiping over tea, a theatrical, contented air about them.
Tonight, however? Well, it was a tad different.
Rin seemed to have a bone to pick with Lucrecia. And for once, Shirou was too intrigued by the subject in question to intervene. Thus, he sat without a sound in his chair (not his chair, but instead, the one he had built and intended for Lucrecia to use. It didn't work) and allowed Rin the room to do what was needed. Shirou wasn't heartless however, he wouldn't completely throw Lucrecia to the wolves. If Rin got too forceful, Shirou was sure to shut it down. Until that point, however…Shirou would sit back and observe.
"Hey, Lu." Tohsaka had begun, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin. It, like her words, was a casual affair, yet there was this certain, hounding look in Rin's eyes that Shirou knew meant business. "Do remind me to return that lovely book you so graciously lent me all that time ago. It would be a shame for it to be out of your care for any longer."
Lucrecia gave Tohsaka a thoughtful look before her face lit up in memory. "If you're done with it? sure. I hope it helped in some way."
Rin smiled, "it did. Greatly. However, I must ask, where did you come across such a book? It's exceptional but rather old and brittle for just a copy. The second edition of Bernhardus Albinus's An Expedition of Redefining the Laws of Archaic Seventeenth-Century Mineralogy isn't something one would just pick up at their local bookstore."
Lucrecia tilted her head, and an evident surge of confusion took to her features as she pouted and knotted her brows. Shirou had never seen the brunette so perplexed before.
"No, you're right. The text isn't something you could easily come across. But still." Lucrecia confirmed, yet her confusion only deepened. "Why the hell would I have a copy of Albinus?"
The sneer Tohsaka once carried was quick to fall from her lips like a dying star. Shirou felt a bout of bewilderment suddenly take hold of him. Apparently, he was missing something.
"I knew it," Rin said in a low, hushed hiss. "You really are a de Salazar."
A nervous smile graced Lucrecia's lips and she sent Tohsaka a peculiar stare, "that's not even remotely how you pronounce it... Still, that's quite clever of you, Schatz. Or rather, nosey. It was the book, wasn't it? The book gave it away. I thought it might. Oh, well."
Tohsaka, for the most part, appeared disgustingly proud of herself. She flicked her dark, pin-straight hair over her shoulder and pressed her elbows into the table to reduce the gap between her and Lucrecia. It was strange, just a moment ago Tohsaka was in an odd sort of serious tone, now, she was bursting with enthusiasm.
"Duh! Only the daughter of the Al de Salazar would have an original Albinus just lying around."
"Of course," Lucrecia scoffed. "You would know my father."
Shirou decided that he had enough of not knowing what the hell was going on. He thought he left that behind with the Grail War.
"I-I don't know him." Shirou stumbled. The thought of knowing Lucrecia's father was a sudden, heavy concept. From context, the man was indefinitely central to the mage world. Somehow. And that in itself added a whole new dimension to Lucrecia's character. Just who was the girl Shirou found himself so taken with? "Your father, I mean. I've never heard of him. Or what being a de Salazar means."
A small smile found Lucrecia's lips, "almost."
Shirou knew she was referring to his pronunciation of her apparent last name, but there was another time and place for him to obsess with the proper pronunciation of that.
"My father," Lucrecia continued, her eyes, dark and gentle like the night sky, crept along the apartment until they married the copper of Shirou's. "Álvaro de Salazar is, to put it simply, an archaeologist. Like his father before him, and his father's father before him, he too, studied at the Clock Tower and now works quite closely with the Mage's Association as their personal tomb raider, as I like to call it.
"He's the Association's main supplier of historical artefacts. Ones either thought lost to time or antediluvian to the point where many thought them to be mere myths. If you want some forgotten, fable thought relic, my father would be the man to find it. He is extremely respected and well known in the mage world for his archaeological achievements." Lucrecia tried returning to her bowl, after that. Thinking that once her answer was given, and the obscurity of her life was drawn into the light, she would be left in peace to eat.
Tohsaka had other thoughts.
"He's extremely wealthy because of them too. Apparently his 'archaeological achievements' come at a hefty price." Rin said, a tad bitter.
Lucrecia, being the sharp-eyed fiend that she was, was quick to detect Tohsaka's cynicism. "Well, of course. How else is my father supposed to support my shopping habits? Prada isn't cheap, you know." She smirked.
"Oh, screw you!"
Shirou allowed for some gentle, almost childish name-calling and tongue poking and bickering before he strung together whatever bits of courage he had left, and somehow ask the brunette beside him a few things. Some things were making less sense the more Lucrecia decided to make sense.
"So, if your father is close with the Mage's Association, and it's a family tradition to study at the Clock Tower…" Shirou droned. "Why aren't you taking your classes like the other students of the Tower? Why is Tohsaka acting as your private tutor?"
"Oh, I'm not a student. Officially, that is."
"Ah. Why not?"
Lucrecia looked up at Shirou as if he were thick-headed. "Because I failed the entrance examination. Duh."
Rin erupted from her seat. "How the fuck did you fail the entrance exam! That is single-handedly the easiest examination to pass. Even for the worst of mages! Hell, even Emiya passed the exam."
"Hey," Shirou whined. He may not be the best mage, but he did work his ass off to pass that exam. Tohsaka threatened him enough for a lifetime during those few short weeks of studying to strike the fear of failure (and death by her hand) into him. Not only did he pass the test, but Shirou could also proudly say he excelled with flying colours.
"No, you're right. Achieving a plausible mark on the exam is easy. Failing the exam, though? Now that's hard." Lucrecia groaned. "I wrote my name on the written exam thinking that was all I had to do for them to accept the damn thing, but apparently I wasn't allowed to leave until the duration of the exam was over. I really thought I was going to die of boredom. And I didn't even bother showing up for the practical. I wasn't going to waste my time like that."
The room grew very quiet.
"Wait," Shirou said, scrubbing his hands over his face. He was trying to comprehend what he just heard. "You purposely failed the entrance exam? I thought education was something important to you?"
Lucrecia rolled her eyes, "of course education is important to me. I just enjoy having a certain degree of control over where I choose to take my education. And don't insult me, Shirou. Do you seriously think I wouldn't be able to pass something I could have taken at the age of ten?"
"Then why did you fail it!"
"I have no interest in studying here. It's my father who wants to continue with this inane and outdated tradition. Not me."
"But how did you still end up here?" Rin questioned this time.
An unexpected growl broke from Lucrecia's throat, "because my father has connections with everyone. And everyone in this damn Tower seems to owe him a favour. All he had to do was throw his name about and pull some strings and the next thing I know I'm getting moved from my boarding school in Russia to have my ass dumped here in London, under the care of Lord El-Melloi. But he's not even the real El-Melloi! Apparently, the real Lord El-Melloi died in some war and he, Waver-something-obviously-not-important, is now the new Lord El-Melloi – Lord El-Melloi II."
It seemed Lucrecia was a passionate rambler.
Shirou titled his head. He didn't know much about Lord El-Melloi, Rin was the one who handled him mostly, but the Lord had been especially interested with them since they moved to London. He would sometimes catch the older man giving him strange, almost wary looks. "You attended a Russian boarding school?"
"Another tradition. But on my mother's side." The brunette muttered. "She insisted. It was only for two years. I hated it. But I also loved it. Very dark academia. The only classical aesthetic acceptable."
"Oh. That's nice?"
Rin shot Shirou a ridiculous sneer before peeping up again. "So, I'm guessing you can also speak Russian?"
"Rin." Lucrecia began. "My father is a famous archaeologist, and my mother, a well-rounded philologist. I travelled the world by the age of seven due to their occupational needs. You're going to have to accept that I know a lot of languages."
Rin and Shirou didn't dare mutter much after that, and Lucrecia was quick to go back to dinner. There were too many facts to process for them. Too many oddities for either of them to understand in one sitting. Shirou himself was still perplexed on the thought of Lucrecia purposely failing an exam.
"Shirou," Lucrecia whined, her spoon splashing about in her bowl. She did this thing with her tongue and dragged out his name in a pitch thought too high. She also pouted. And Shirou didn't want to acknowledge how annoyingly endearing she was being. So, he scrunched the end of his nose and tried his best to appear pestered. It obviously wasn't working.
"Yes, Lucrecia?"
"Rin and her stupid questions made my udon go cold."
"Fine." He sighed. Though, Shirou couldn't properly mock real irritation. Knowing Lucrecia appreciated his food enough to ask for another bowl had the flat of his cheeks flushing a shy pink. "Stop whining. I'll get you another bowl."
Shirou ended up serving seconds for the whole table.
Rin, for once, had offered to wash up after dinner. It left Lucrecia and Shirou to sit alone at their rickety table.
Lucrecia and Rin had gone back to bickering. Though, it was the sweet type. The one often shared between sisters too close in age. Shirou liked that. The ginger could tell their relationship was going to be something special, something familial even. Tohsaka needed that.
She never did get to mend her relationship with Sakura before leaving for London…
It was deep into the night now and everything was gorgeously still.
And Lucrecia…Well, Lucrecia was just gorgeous.
She sat across from him, in his chair. Finely dressed as always, and her hair, a neat, sufficient bun with only a few coiled strands free to curtain her cheeks. Her eyes, darker than wine, were solely on Tohsaka, but Shirou couldn't find it in himself to mind. He was full of good food and good company, with the thick of night settling deep within his bones. Shirou could let himself drift off into a dreamless slumber where he sat, like some old man by a dying fire, and feel at ease with life.
But his eyes…His eyes couldn't help but study the woman in front of him.
Shirou, shameless with his open gaze, dared to let his eyes float from one of Lucrecia's dazzling feature to the next. From the dark beauty mark which kissed the left of her cheek, down to full, shyly painted lips, to even further down to where her shirt filled out and her chest swelled. Lucrecia was wearing a white turtleneck, and it distastefully hid the bare of her throat and other feminine attributes Shirou appallingly thought too often about. Such thoughts kept him up at night. Thoughts of where he should place his lips on her if Lucrecia dared to let him. Shirou would kiss her everywhere and anywhere; her lips, her cheeks, her soft neck and breasts, each slender wrist, and her inner thighs…Maybe even a little higher, to a set of lips a little different, a little pinker. Wetter.
Shirou bit the side of his tongue. God, stop. Enough of that.
Though, he should be pleased. Lucrecia had begun to finally layer up and wear close most fitting for London's unforgiving climate.
Everything about Lucrecia pleased him.
Tohsaka had said something, Shirou had missed it due to his lack of attention to the conversation that had taken shape around him. It had teased a giggle out of Lucrecia. So, whatever Rin had said, it ought to have been cheeky, perhaps, even a touch naughty? Shirou didn't care. The tune of the brunette's laughter was enough to stop his heart.
Shirou let a breath escape him.
He wanted to make her laugh like that. To be the one who took the time to learn all the different notes and tunes Lucrecia could make when in a fit of joy.
Never had Shirou wished he were a painter, but something was artfully capturing about Lucrecia. Something only a true artist could portray and make forever eternal. He would hang her in the Uffizi Gallery, and send even the Birth of Venus a witchery green with jealousy.
He could conjure the best scene to paint her in, too. Shirou would take her on a picnic, pack her favourite foods and spoil her with a sweet cake or two. They would lounge in a field where the flowers were mitch-matched, and the grass, kitten-soft and mossy. It would be late summer, and Shirou would feed Lucrecia grapes and wine and have her talk and talk and talk about anything and everything she wanted; what she loved, what she despised, what she dreamt, what sent her heart fluttering, and what made it skip a beat or two. Just her, that's what he yearned for Lucrecia to whisper, scream, and converse about until she grew tired and crawled into Shirou's arms to nap.
And that's how Shirou would paint her. In ethereal bliss, safe in his arms.
Lucrecia had finally caught his stare from across the table. And the depth of her eyes seemed to swallow him whole. There was no beginning to this, no end, either. Just her. Shirou could feel it – like the supernaturally sublime, or rather, a greater divine. Tohsaka had said once the line between god's grace and god's wrath had been a fine one. Sent in form of an omen neither met for the saints or the wicked, just whoever dared to be more than what his hand had drawn for them. It made his heart tremble to tell – and to know – such similarities lay within Lucrecia.
But it was a rather easy feeling to rebuke, especially when her eyes softened just a touch when favouring him a look.
Shirou blushed, and grew nervous, "hi."
Lucrecia in turn swelled with fiendish delight and dared to smile back, "hi, you. Enjoying yourself? you're awfully quiet there."
"Eh, yeah." Shirou rubbed the back of his head and turned his gaze from the brunettes. It felt criminal now to talk to Lucrecia. After wishing to share such profanely intimate moments with her. "I'm just…Lost in thought, I guess."
Rin had finished the washing and glared at the ginger with her hands on her hips. "I think it's past Emiya-kun's bedtime."
Shirou's grin drew sour, and he jerked his tired body forward. "It is not. I don't have a bedtime, Tohsaka. Stop teasing."
The girls shared a look. And something in Shirou told him that this relationship of theirs was going to be mostly them bullying him into things.
"Oi, you two, I'm not even tired," Shirou muttered stubbornly. He felt like a child.
"Nah. It's okay. It's late." Lucrecia hummed, and she stood up to gather her things. "I should be on my way and stop bothering you lot. My mother always did say I have a very bad habit of overstaying my welcome."
"Finally. You're like a no-good street cat, Lu. Now, scram. No one wants you here." Tohsaka, with her arms crossed had a terribly mischievous air about her. Rin always did have a questionable way of showing her love. "Shirou, walk her out and see yourself off to bed. You look like shit."
Ah, yes. Love.
"Yes, boss." Shirou signed, following Lucrecia to the door.
Just as any other night, Shirou took his time redressing Lucrecia in her coat. By the door, they stood, and while Shirou was careful not to meet the brunette's stare, Lucrecia all but mirrored his earlier notion. Her eyes were a particular heaviness on him, yet not the unwelcomed kind.
Shirou cleared his throat, "what?"
Lucrecia shook her head, and Shirou guessed it had something to do with his awkward fumble with one of her coat buttons. Later, however, when the ginger had reached to the last jade button and sowed it through the hole with quick fingers, Lucrecia, slick-tongued as she was, inquired what had led his mind to be so taken with thought while gaping at her. Shirou paused to answer.
"I wasn't gaping." He denied. "I was just…I don't know. It's nice when you're here, I guess. Tohsaka's always smiling, even when you purposely piss her off. I enjoy being surrounded by friends and family alike, it was always like that in Japan."
"Good thing this is going to be a common occurrence, then."
Something gentle and genuine smoothed the thin of Shirou's lips into a doting, open grin. "Yeah…"
Shirou went for the door, only for a moment of unease to pass over him. "Are you going to be alright getting home by yourself?" He asked, hand tight on the door handle, his eyes finally meeting the brunettes. "It's late. Dark. I should walk you home, Lucrecia. It would be safer."
Again, Lucrecia shook her head at his supposed folly. However, Shirou could do very little to take such a thing to heart when her hand slipped on top of his. With but a gentle nudge, together, they opened the door.
"I'm a big girl. I'll be fine."
"Lucrecia…" Shirou pleaded. Though, with the way she was hungrily peering up at him, it must have sounded more like a beg.
Lucrecia took the same hand that rested upon his own and used it to cup his cheek. Shirou did not realise how close the two were until the bold advancement. With slow, low movements she seized him by his other cheek with the nude of her lips.
It was less of a kiss and more of a press. Like how a farmer would brand a bull with a press of searing steel – it was just as hot too.
Nonetheless, that simple, almost virgin in nature exchange had Shirou lightheaded, and heart stolen.
Though her mouth didn't stop there. And quick was Shirou to find the full of Lucrecia's lips brushing over his ear.
Her breath was hot and her tone, devilish, as she whispered. "Thank you for tonight, Shirou. It was delicious. I'm excited to see what else you have planned for me."
Then she curled herself from out of under him and left.
And Shirou was alone, again, in the doorway, trying to remind himself how to breathe.