attention
Yamaha Yuma sighed, drinking from his beer can while he watched his friends hitting on girls across the table. Gumo and Ian usually didn't even have to try that hard to get numbers anyway.
"You still thinking about her?" a sympathetic voice sounded from behind him, and Yuma glanced around, meeting Utatane Piko's concerned, heterochromatic eyes. He always found his friend's eyes to be strangely unnerving, as though those dual coloured eyes were capable of piercing into his mind and reading his every thought. He knew Piko wasn't a mind reader or anything, but he was still very intuitive and the whole thing just made it very unsettling. He swallowed, putting the beer down.
"No, I'm not," he muttered. He didn't have the guts to admit otherwise anyway. It was kind of his fault they broke up, after all. To anyone else, it might have seemed like an amiable, mutual decision, but Yuma knew he was the one who initiated the whole thing. She wouldn't have left him unless he asked it of her, if he hadn't one day casually mentioned that he felt their relationship was becoming stagnant and maybe they should start seeing other people. And to his utter surprise, she agreed.
Of course, she had protested a little, but when he pressed the issue she finally conceded, saying that it might be nice to finally take a break. Their break lasted for weeks, and in the end they officially broke up, both of them too exhilarated with their newfound freedom to even consider shackling themselves to each other once more. But the thrill of being newly single quickly wore off for him.
It didn't help that she was still such a huge presence in his life. People asked about their breakup, and whatever she said didn't make it seem too positive for him – he had mutual friends coming up to him in shock, asking him when he became this total douchebag who would dump an innocent girl just because he got bored. It wasn't a lie, but he was certain that she omitted the part where she said okay to the arrangement as well. It hadn't exactly been a one-sided decision…not entirely, anyway.
He called her a few times, intending to get her to stop spreading stupid rumours and tarnishing his reputation – he thought he was a pretty decent guy, and it was just bad luck that their relationship didn't work out. But she never picked up his calls, and after a while he was sure that she blocked his number. But that didn't take her out of his life at all, because she kept going to parties now, when the girl Yuma used to date would never have attended a single social activity if she could help it.
She showed up at most of the parties he went to, and he would see her from across the room, green eyes sultrily made up, wearing a skin-tight black dress that hugged every slender curve in the most sinful way imaginable. She never dressed that way while they were still together, preferring to stay in a comfy old shirt and shorts most of the time, with the barest hint of makeup if she had to wear any at all. The worst thing was that she was perfectly aware of his gaze. Sometimes, he wondered if she was purposely dressing up and attending all these parties because she knew he would be there, and she wanted to prove a point – to gloat? To get his attention? If that was the case, she succeeded.
Everything she did was capturing his attention now. The rumours – well, not really rumours, but gossip nevertheless – that she was spreading about him and their breakup, her constant presence at the parties he always attended, her dressing and her new bold confidence – everything caught his eye, and he hated it. But what he hated even more was the way other guys would laugh with her while she trailed a single, slim finger down their shoulder, her palm lingering on their arms. He hated how other hands wrapped around her waist, this tempting seductress whom he once called his own. Why was it that she only behaved this way after they broke up? Why would she change?
They had been a couple for two years. Everyone thought they were going to last. But Yuma had gotten bored, and maybe he spoke too soon when he suggested taking a break from each other. Because now he regretted his decision – his ex-girlfriend purposely flirting with other guys right in front of his face was probably karma coming back to bite him in the ass – and nothing he did would change his situation, bring them back to what they used to be. He didn't even bother talking to her since it'd just be a waste of time.
She didn't want his love. She didn't want his heart, though they both knew she had it once, and she probably still owned it. All she wanted was his attention, and he wasn't quite sure why. Was it just because she hated the thought of him with someone new? He was absolutely certain that she was out to make sure he would never get over her, by behaving in a way she normally wouldn't, a way that she knew would attract him. It was too late, he was too late, and he was now stuck watching her with other boys when once upon a time, it was his hands upon her waist, his lips against hers…
"Sure, you're not," Piko didn't sound very convinced despite his words. "Like you haven't been staring in her general direction the past twenty minutes…you're just a little bit obvious, Yuma. I thought you said you didn't want to grant her the satisfaction of letting her know she's getting under your skin," his friend questioned. Yuma let out a soft growl of frustration, crushing his emptied beer can in his fist and tossing it at the trash can. It missed, the can dropping onto the floor, but he ignored it.
"Well, she is getting under my skin, and she knows it pretty damn well," he bit out. "I don't know what the hell she's doing. She agreed to the breakup – it's not like it wasn't a mutual decision, yet here she is, flirting with other guys right in front of me!" he exclaimed. "It's not like it's been a long time since we separated. It's only been like, three weeks since we officially split? Can't she have the decency to wait a little longer before she starts getting it on with someone else?" he hissed.
"Whoa, you need to chill," Piko hastily attempted to calm him down, and Yuma narrowed his eyes at him warningly, causing the silver haired boy to retreat slightly in trepidation. "Since you said that she was okay with the breakup, then maybe she was bored of the relationship as well so she just…moved on earlier than you. Who knows?" he shrugged, trying to sound like the neutral party. Yuma snorted.
"Yeah, right," he muttered scathingly. "Her friends sent me a shitload of messages last weekend about how she was still crying her heart out over our breakup. Crying? I couldn't tell, seeing how right now she's laughing and fooling around with Sakine Meito," his gaze cut towards the pair, standing at the opposite side of the room, cooing and making puppy eyes at each other. Yuma was legitimately sickened by this very public display of affection. Just moments earlier, she had been flirting with Megurine Luki. Was she trying to earn a reputation for being a whore or something?
Hatsune Miku, school whore. Two things that just didn't go together. Miku was supposed to be a good girl. She never did anything too wild, too out of the ordinary. Yuma was the party-goer who would do anything if offered enough incentive to do so. Which was why it simply didn't make sense that she was out here, at Akita Neru's house party, drinking and laughing and basically flirting with any guy who approached her. As he watched, Neru's older brother, Nero, approached Miku and Meito, and the pair welcomed him with open arms, Miku turning her sultry green eyes upon him.
Yuma couldn't stand it. Was it just because he admitted that he was bored of their relationship, in the past? Did she change herself so drastically because of that stupid comment? He didn't know how he felt about this new Miku – yeah, he wasn't her boyfriend anymore and she was free to do what she wanted with her life, but this wasn't her. If he didn't have any relation to her prior to this he'd probably be pretty damn attracted to her right now, but since he did care for her at one point – scratch that, honestly he still cared – the way she was currently behaving perturbed him quite a bit.
At that moment, Nakajima Gumo popped up in his line of vision, waving his hand in front of his face. Piko was nowhere to be seen, probably swept up into the crowd – he was a pretty good deejay, so Neru must have convinced him to play a set because the music suddenly changed, becoming more techno. That was decidedly Piko's style, compared to Neru's usual bubble-gum pop. Yuma blinked. "You need to stop spacing out all the time," Gumo commented dryly, his arm slung around some new girl who giggled when Yuma turned his gaze upon her. She had light pink hair and eyes that reminded him of cherries. He vaguely remembered her from last year's class…Furukawa Miki.
"I wasn't spacing out," he argued weakly, knowing that he couldn't deny this but refusing to admit that his attention was drifting – especially since it was due to Hatsune Miku. Though his friends probably already knew what his thoughts were focused upon. "I was just thinking about…my grades and stuff. I really need to get a better GPA," he rolled his eyes, trying to seem as casual as possible. Gumo frowned.
"Yeah, like you ever cared about your GPA…" the green haired boy threw back, shaking his head. "Why don't you just go and talk to her, since you're so damn angry about all those other guys? Stop denying that you're mad," he added when Yuma opened his mouth. "It's so obvious that even Ian asked me about it just now, and Ian is probably the most oblivious person I've ever met. He didn't even know you two broke up until four days ago, so…" his words trailed away into uneasy silence.
"Talk to her?" Yuma spluttered. Miki, who seemed bored with their exchange, whispered something in Gumo's ear and drifted off elsewhere, probably to dance with the other girls. Gumo smirked, which made Yuma wonder what the cherry haired girl had said to him – maybe they would get down and dirty together after the party tonight. The thought of his friend's sex life was just a little disturbing, so Yuma chose to stop thinking about it. "You're out of your mind. She's my ex, not my goddamn best friend or something. We're hardly on speaking terms right now," he concluded.
Gumo narrowed his green eyes at him. It was like looking at himself in the mirror – Gumo and Yuma looked very different, but their eyes were the same. Their green eyes were the exact same shade of light green, the same pair of almond shaped eyes that crinkled a little at the edges when they were smiling. And when he narrowed his eyes at him, Yuma thought, for just a moment, that he was once again berating himself in the mirror for being a stupid moron and letting go of his ex-girlfriend.
Miku wasn't an awful girlfriend; in fact, she was pretty much the opposite of a terrible date. She was supportive of all his endeavours, but she gave him space when he needed it. She was affectionate, but not overly so, which was great since one of his previous exes was so clingy that she often draped herself all over him, like a wet carpet or something. The only flaw that he could think of was her very frustrating inconsistency – Miku was extremely fickle-minded, changing her mind about things within minutes of making a decision. But that fickle-mindedness never applied to serious things like their relationship together. Miku was always very steadfast in her feelings and loyalties towards him.
He had simply been bored. There was really no other reason why he chose to break up with her. He was tired of always coming back to the same girl; he was tired of how predictable their relationship had become. He longed for a change, and thought that separation would be a good idea then – after all, if it was true love, then he wouldn't be feeling bored, right? And he assumed that the boredom was a mutual feeling since Miku had conceded surprisingly easily. In hindsight, he was actually rather surprised that she hadn't fought or cried more for them to stay together. She gave in so…easily.
"Doesn't mean the two of you can't talk," Gumo pointed out. "Otherwise you'll just be stuck here, glaring daggers at her the whole night and basically making yourself miserable. And don't drag the rest of us down, we're here to have fun," Gumo glanced back towards the crowd, where Ian was slow-dancing with Yuma's cousin, Yamaha Mizki. Yuma thought that was kind of disgusting to watch.
"I'm not going to talk to her while she's flirting with Meito and Nero," Yuma retorted, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the table. He had chosen to stand behind the table with all the food and beer because it gave him a fairly decent hiding spot – he could look at others, but most people wouldn't even notice him. At least that was what he thought. His friends were proving him wrong, since they seemed to be able to find him so easily.
"Just go," Gumo sighed, shoving his shoulder. Yuma stumbled, giving his friend a glare, but Gumo stared him down, tapping his foot impatiently against the floor. "Otherwise, you're just going to emo the whole night and that would ruin the mood for Ian and I. Tell her outright that she's being a complete bitch to you if you have to – just stop moping around all the time," he barked.
Yuma rolled his eyes mutinously, but decided against protesting – he still didn't want to talk to his ex-girlfriend, who was now making 'come-hither' eyes at Akita Nero, but he didn't want to stay in his secluded corner and listen to Gumo nagging at him all night, so he thought he would lose himself in the crowd and hopefully get carried far, far away from both Gumo and Miku. But unfortunately for him, the moment he stepped out from behind the table, Miku looked up and stared straight at him.
He froze, captured by her green eyes. He had tried so hard to avoid being noticed by her that, when she looked at him, he found that he couldn't respond. Her expression didn't change, and a few seconds later she returned her attention to the other two boys, but he was left feeling shaken by the brief period of eye contact they shared. It had been so long since they last communicated in any way that Yuma didn't know what to do. Was he supposed to avoid her, or should he…approach her?
Looking over his shoulder back at the food table, he saw Gumo making angry gestures at him with his hands, and he knew that if he tried to slip away his friend would hunt him down at the very next opportunity, probably calling him a coward and a complete pussy. He wouldn't be able to live that down, so he took in a deep breath and approached his suddenly very intimidating ex-girlfriend.
Nero and Meito seemed to stop talking when he got closer, or maybe that was just his imagination. Either way, when he got there, all three of them turned around to stare at him, and Yuma fidgeted, suddenly feeling really hot around the collar. Nero, the party host's brother, greeted him with an amiable grin and clapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, Yuma! Glad you're here. I haven't been seeing you at Donatella lately," he mentioned a club which Yuma went to very regularly. Yuma coughed.
"Yeah, I was…busy," he mumbled, not wanting to admit that he was there, just he was hiding because he didn't want his ex to see him. He couldn't be a hundred percent sure that she was stalking him and purposely flaunting her new flirtatious nature in front of him, but either way he wasn't happy about it and he would rather not bump into her at all. He loved going to parties and clubs, but Miku's presence was making it difficult for him to enjoy himself lately. Miku smirked at his words.
It was one of the first few times he had seen his ex-girlfriend smirking. It was an expression so out of place on her face that he couldn't help but gape at her for a moment. Miku, when she was still his girlfriend, was sweet and innocent – she was so harmless, such a wallflower that she kind of just blended into the background. "Busy, eh?" Nero tilted his head, studying him intently with his sharp violet eyes. Yuma didn't know what to say in response, so he held his tongue. Akita Nero was only one year older than Yuma and most of his schoolmates, but sometimes he seemed way older than what his physical age indicated. He definitely partied hard, but at the same time he was decidedly…mature.
"Yeah," he repeated stubbornly, doing his best to ignore Nero's unspoken question. The two boys were casual friends, but he supposed that even Nero, who wasn't super close to him or anything, knew enough about his and Miku's breakup to suspect that something was up. Nero looked away from him and glanced at Miku for just a second before exchanging a look with Meito, who was a senior as well, and Nero's classmate in school. Miku didn't meet his gaze, staring down at the floor.
"I guess we ought to mingle around with the others," Meito spoke jovially, as though he was totally oblivious to the tension between Yuma and Miku – though Yuma didn't think he was really unaware. Maybe the two seniors just didn't want to get involved in the relationship troubles of their juniors. "It was nice talking to you, Miku. Maybe we'll see you around on campus. You should have lunch with us one day," the dark haired senior winked mischievously at her, chocolate brown eyes twinkling merrily, before he and Nero turned away and wordlessly dove back into the crowd, giving Yuma and Miku nothing more than a parting wave. Then they were left alone.
"Well, what do you want?" Miku was the first one to speak, her voice surprisingly cordial for a girl who was going around telling people things about him. Yuma never found out exactly what she said, but whatever stories she was sharing, he was pretty sure she was exaggerating things. What she shared was probably something to do with how he was an arse who didn't know how to appreciate her and dumped her the very moment he got bored, without any appreciation whatsoever of her effort…it wasn't that Yuma didn't appreciate her, for God's sake. But he sure as hell wouldn't let her know he regretted his decision.
"What makes you think I came here to talk to you?" he retorted, his pride preventing him from immediately entering a proper conversation with her. No, the jibes and the bitter barbs had to come in first. Hearing her voice reminded him painfully of their breakup, and of the time where she used to be his. Now, they were both single, but Yuma was extremely aware of the small space between them and he couldn't help but wonder what she would do if he closed that gap. But no, he couldn't – he wouldn't, because if he did anything like that it would just prove that she had won the game.
Though she kind of already had. He knew he wouldn't be getting over her anytime soon, not in the foreseeable future. He was so hung up over his ex-girlfriend that for now, even the most attractive girl in the room probably wouldn't make a single blip on his radar. Miku gave him a look which clearly asked how stupid he thought she was, and he backpedalled. "Fine, maybe so I did. And is there any problem you have with that?" he narrowed his eyes. "I thought we parted ways amiably."
"Uh huh, you're not wrong," she conceded. "I'm pretty sure we decided we were going to stay as friends afterwards. You're the one who kept avoiding me, not the other way around," she continued, ignoring him as he opened his mouth in an attempt to interrupt. "I attended all these parties since I knew you would be there, and maybe we could chat or something…I'm not so oblivious that I fail to notice your bright pink hair sticking out from behind potted plants, Yuma," she folded her arms.
He tried not to let that jibe about his hair get to him. "Um, and why would I want to talk to you when you're having so much fun chatting up guys?" he retorted, and realised belatedly that he sounded just like a bitter ex-boyfriend. Admittedly he was a bitter ex-boyfriend, but Miku didn't need to know that. The girl in question blinked at him, clearly surprised by his tone, and he rambled on to cover his slipup. "Just because we broke up amiably doesn't mean you go around flirting the moment you're single – people are bound to say something about that kind of behaviour," he justified himself feebly.
"I don't see you doing much better," Miku snapped, sounding rather unhappy. He scowled, confused by what she meant – unlike her, he hadn't gone around talking to girls the moment he was officially single. "You initiated the breakup! It's not something I'll ever forget," she reminded him.
He groaned. "Come on, you can't still be angry about that," he grumbled. "You said it's fine, that we ought to take a little break from each other! You agreed to it, and suddenly everyone is calling me an asshole who dumped you the moment I got tired of you. What are you telling people about me?" he squinted suspiciously at her. Miku gave him an angelic, sweet smile that sent shivers down his spine.
"Nothing," she cooed. "I just told the truth, that you initiated the split because you were bored of how monotonous our relationship was. That's all," her green eyes twinkled. His frown deepened – he was sure she wasn't telling the whole truth, but he was just as certain that no matter how many times he asked, she wouldn't tell him what she said, nor would anyone else she told the story to.
Just as he was about to snap at her in response – he didn't know what to say, but he was tired of playing mind games with her – Neru, the party hostess, interrupted their conversation, situating herself firmly between the two of them. The blonde was tall, beautiful and athletic, and was on the cheerleading team in their university. When Akita Neru spoke, people listened. "You two, no arguing in front of everyone," she ordered, and neither one of them could object. "If you want to fight, then go ahead, but get a room upstairs," Neru pointed at the stairs, her tone much like a mother scolding her ill-behaved children. Yuma and Miku exchanged a look, and grudgingly did as they were told.
Yuma hadn't intended to be stuck alone with Miku, but that appeared to be the situation now, and he wondered why things seemed to be getting from bad to worse. Miku teetered up the stairs behind him, her heels clearly making it hard to balance while walking, and he would have been a gentleman and helped her up the stairs if he wasn't still so salty about his circumstances. It took a while for them to get to the next landing, but this floor was so quiet that it seemed worth the time spent.
"What's with this getup?" he groused, indicating her outfit. Miku was in a short, strappy wine coloured dress that was so tight that it seemed almost painted on, and she was wearing a pair of thin, barely-there stiletto heels which could probably be used as a weapon in a fight. Her dark eye makeup, her perfectly arched brows, the full pout of her lips – everything was as he remembered about her, yet at the same time it was so different because of all the makeup she hated to wear.
"Why, you don't like it?" she asked coyly, averting her gaze so that he couldn't look into her eyes. He scowled, reluctant to grace that with a response, and opened one of the doors to check if the place was empty. The room he chose was a bedroom, but it was so sparsely furnished that Yuma guessed it was either Nero's room, or a guest room. Either way it was empty, so he figured this room would be a good place to continue their…argument, or whatever the heck it was. It wasn't exactly a fight, but it could hardly be called a friendly conversation either. Miku was making Yuma very unhappy.
"No, I don't," he answered bluntly. He was lying of course – he did like her outfit, he never knew that the boring, goody-two-shoes Hatsune Miku could look so seductive. But at the same time he hated it, because he knew that she didn't dress up this way for him. She had other intentions, but pleasing him was probably the last thing on her mind. If she wasn't wearing all these for him, then he didn't like it.
"Well, too bad for you that I don't care what you think," she retorted, entering the room after him and resting herself gingerly on the edge of the pristinely made bed. "Oh, these heels are killing me," she muttered as she took off her stilettos, placing them carefully at the foot of the bed. "I dress up to make myself feel good, and I like it when I receive attention from guys. You're not anyone to me anymore, so you have no right to care," she reminded him, her tone becoming extremely sharp.
Yuma could sense that he was in dangerous territory here. He wasn't sure how to continue without this civilised conversation devolving into some horrible argument. He had no time for arguments with his ex-girlfriend; he had other things to be focusing on…like maybe getting over her, for one thing. "You may not care what I think, but I care about you still – as a friend, of course," he clarified quickly when her green eyes flitted to him, filled with equal parts shock and accusation. "We're friends, aren't we? And as a friend, I don't want to see you…throwing yourself at guys, you know."
"I'm not throwing myself at them!" she hissed at him, offended already. He knew things were going to turn out this way. "And no one asked you to pay attention to what the hell I'm doing at parties! We drink, you drink, everyone drinks…I mean yeah, it makes me a little chattier, but it doesn't mean I'm flirting around or anything," she defended herself, flipping some of her teal hair behind her shoulder. Yuma's gaze fixed on her bare shoulder, the milky, flawless skin exposed to him, and he was suddenly reminded of all the times he slowly undressed her, nibbling on that same shoulder…
He clearly wasn't going to get over her anytime soon. "Doesn't look that way to me, or to a lot of other people," he almost sneered, only stopping because he was surprised by just how bitter he was. He didn't think he was someone who held a grudge, but this entire saga was showing him otherwise. "Maybe you should reconsider talking to so many guys if you want to be chatty…I mean, you have female friends, don't you?" he ran his hand through his hair, an old habit he was trying to get rid of.
He only ran his hands through his hair when he was feeling frustrated. People who knew about this would catch on quickly, and of course Miku knew it. She stared at him wordlessly for a moment, then got up from the bed and walked slowly to him. Yuma couldn't move. He was taller than her even when she wore heels, and now that she was barefoot she just barely reached his chin. He almost forgot how tiny she was…no, he was lying to himself. He couldn't forget anything about her.
"You're jealous, aren't you?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. There was a small smirk on her face, and Yuma just glared quietly at her, knowing that she would catch his lie even if he tried to said no. "And you were the one who initiated the split with me…is this poetic justice, Yuma?" there was a sing-song lilt to her words. His mind blanked out for a moment. How was he supposed to respond?
"I didn't know you're this upset about us breaking up. You keep bringing it up – you're taking it real personally for someone who agreed to it," he finally threw out at her, wondering if it would be a good idea to retreat from Miku, or if that would be taken as a sign of weakness. "If you didn't want us to split you could have just told me; I didn't want to break up, I just wanted a break. It's not the same thing," he sounded defensive now, and he knew it. Miku merely rolled her eyes at his words.
"Of course I keep bringing it up. Do you have any idea how much it pissed me off? Are you implying that I was boring back when I was your girlfriend?" she placed her hands on her hips. Yuma's gaze involuntarily dropped to the curve of her waist. "And now, since I'm doing stuff I normally wouldn't do, all of a sudden I'm not boring anymore," she stared at him intently, and he didn't know how to refute that statement. Then she smirked again. "So I guess I should continue doing things differently?"
Suddenly, she reached out and yanked on the collar of his shirt, jerking him forward so that he was at the same level as her, and then he felt soft, warm, familiar lips against his. He reacted purely on instinct, his arms wrapping around Miku and pulling her closer to him. Her touch, her scent and taste were all so familiar – though she was behaving differently, and unlike in the past she had initiated this kiss, everything else was exactly the same as he remembered. She moaned quietly against his mouth, and he tugged lightly on her bottom lip, satisfied when she parted her lips in response.
He continued to kiss her, this extremely infuriating ex-girlfriend who had been occupying all his thoughts ever since they separated, and at the same time he backed her into the bed so that he could press himself against her and feel their bodies moulding into each other. It was so perfect, so very familiar, and he found himself wondering how the hell he had managed to get bored of her.
She tasted like alcohol and berries, a heady mixture. It was a new experience since Miku never really drank when they were together, and he never thought he would taste alcohol in her mouth, but the feel of her soft lips was heavenly. She ran her nails up and down his back, scratching lightly at the hem, against his bare hips. He almost wanted to beg her to run her hands across the skin beneath his shirt, but that meant he'd have to stop kissing her, and that wasn't something he wanted to do yet.
It had only been around two months since they stopped kissing, stopped touching each other. Their breakup only became official three weeks ago, but even before then physical touch and words of affection had been kept to a minimum. It was pretty obvious what path their relationship was taking back then, but Yuma now couldn't remember what was going through his head during that period. This felt amazing. How had he managed to give all this up, just to experience life as a single again?
Then suddenly Miku withdrew from him, gaze alight with knowingness. They were both breathing hard, her teal hair all over her forehead. He scowled at her, but his hand reached up to lovingly brush those messy stray strands away from her green eyes. She was stuck beneath him on the large mattress, the sheets creasing underneath the weight of their bodies, and Yuma vaguely thought of how annoyed Neru would be, having to straighten the sheets and everything once they got up.
"I thought we broke up for good," she breathed, tenderly cupping his face in her hands. But her expression was far from loving – she looked teasing, evil almost. He growled low in his throat, ducking his head to nuzzle against her neck. He couldn't get over her – if he had been able to, he wouldn't be kissing her now, drunk on her touch and scent. She tilted her head, allowing him access to her bare throat, to that spot underneath her ear which he knew to be extremely sensitive. Her breath hitched when he grazed his teeth against that spot, and his lips curved up against her skin.
"Fuck breaking up," he whispered, trailing kisses over her throat as he spoke. "Our split wouldn't have lasted anyway. Wouldn't matter whether you acted differently or stayed as your usual self," he met her gaze hungrily, throwing all caution to the wind. Fuck everything, really. He had lost this stupid game his ex was playing long ago. The moment Miku lodged herself in his brain, never leaving no matter how hard he tried to push her away, he lost. He knew he shouldn't have broken up with her. He was stupid.
She pulled his face down towards her to kiss him deeply again, and his eyes fluttered shut, savouring the taste and feel of her. They hadn't really touched or been intimate for two entire months, and he didn't find any other girls after he became single, so he only now realised just how much he was craving touch – Miku's touch, to be specific. He wasn't sure if he'd be enjoying himself as much if it was someone else. Again, after a few moments she withdrew, studying his face carefully, her green eyes flitting from feature to feature, while he watched her warily, wondering what her next move would be.
"I'm not coming home with you tonight," she finally whispered, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she said those words. He nodded – that wasn't something he had expected anyway. He wasn't even sure if this meant that they were back together or anything. Maybe the two of them were both just desperate for each other's touch; maybe they both still had lingering feelings and desires that just couldn't be satisfied by another person. Maybe they had been together for too long for anyone else to suffice. But either way, it didn't feel like a great surprise that he was so susceptible to her kisses.
"Another night then," he answered quickly, eager to continue what they were doing. She allowed it, and he shoved the nagging question – the question about what the status of their relationship was now – to the back of his mind. That was something he could think about when he was alone and sober.
A/N: Inspired from a song, I think it's pretty obvious what this song is. It's a Charlie Puth song, if anyone wants to know.