I have a feeling this part is going to be controversial. Oh well. Let it
not to be said that I am a coward. ^_^
ALL THE WORDS WE COULDN'T SAY PART 3
Hikari half-expected the knock on the door when it came. For a moment, she contemplated staying where she was, letting him knock until he grew tired and left. In the morning, she could change motels, give instructions to the new clerk not to let anyone know that she was staying there.
Instead, she climbed off the bed and slipped a light robe over her pyjamas, before going to open it for him. She could tell that he had gotten dressed in a hurry. His t-shirt was on back to front, and he was wearing the old pair of tracksuit pants in which he slept. His hair had not been brushed and stood up around his head in defiant spikes. As she had imagined, his eyes were hopeful and fearful at the same time.
"Everything's fine. You didn't need to come," she told him, hugging herself, "How did you find my motel, anyway?"
"Phoned around to every one in Odaiba," he rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly sheepish, "Hika, you phoned me after midnight. Everything can't be fine."
She took a deep breath. There was no point stalling. Takeru would not leave until he had some answers, and she guessed that he had a right to them, "My period was late, so I took a pregnancy test tonight. It was positive."
His eyes widened, "You're kidding. We're having a baby?"
"We might be," she corrected him hastily, "You know how unreliable those tests can be. They always recommend you do two."
"I can get one for you now," he replied. She could see the excitement on his face, but she was not sure whether it was for the baby or for what it would mean to their relationship. After a childhood spent between two homes, Takeru couldn't be naive enough to believe that children were enough reason to reconcile, "I saw a twenty-four-hour pharmacy just around the corner from here."
"I have one. I've even taken it," she told him, feeling slightly ridiculous, "I just . . . just can't look at the results, you know."
He nodded, "Want to look at it together? Would that help?"
"O-okay," she said slowly, "It's on the counter in the bathroom."
Closing and locking the door behind himself, he followed her through into her motel-room. Like all motel-rooms everywhere, it was small and dingy. The walls had been freshly painted white, but that did little to disguise the cracks and pockmarks in them. The carpet was worn and all the furniture was slightly battered from years of previous occupants. Sunlight had faded the curtains to a non-descript shade of grey. She saw him grimace.
"Hika, I'll give you money for a better -"
"I won't take it," she interrupted him, "This is just temporary until I find a home of my own. I don't want to spend too much."
"You have a home," he said quietly, "If you ever want to come back to it."
She looked at the floor. She could not stand to see the misery on his face, knowing that she was the only one who could take it away, "We should go check that test."
"Fine," he sighed, "Come on."
Before they went into the bathroom, he held out his hand for her to take - an oddly child-like gesture. She hesitated for a second, then slipped her hand into his larger one and felt his fingers tighten around it. She had forgotten the warmth of his skin; his clean smell.
Taking another deep breath to steady herself, she pushed the door to the bathroom open. She could see the plastic stick lying on the counter, but she could not see whether the tester strip on it was white or blue. She buried her face in his shoulder, not caring that the gesture was too intimate for the strangers they were supposed to become. He clumsily kissed the top of her head.
"I can't look."
"It's white," he said softly, "You're not pregnant. You probably just missed your period because of stress. It happens, you know."
To her horror, tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She tried to blink them back, to tell herself to be sensible, but she couldn't stop crying. He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back and whispering words of comfort. She could hear his heart beating, its regular rhythm carrying her away from herself and the emptiness inside. How many nights had she spent in his arms, warm and lazy from their lovemaking? When had she stopped believing that her love and desire for him were enough to call herself happy?
She could not help what happened next. Seemingly of their own accord, her lips found his and her hands slipped beneath his t-shirt. His skin was very soft and warm, and she could feel his muscles tense beneath her touch. He was kissing her back by then, his fingers fumbling at the buttons of her pyjama top. It slipped down over her shoulders and she let it fall to the floor, before helping him out of his own clothes. In just his white boxers, his body was as beautiful as she remembered it. Impatiently, she pulled him across to the bed and onto it.
"Hika, should we be doing this? I didn't bring . . . ."
She kissed him to keep him quiet. She did not want to think or speak. For the moment, it was enough simply to touch.
ALL THE WORDS WE COULDN'T SAY PART 3
Hikari half-expected the knock on the door when it came. For a moment, she contemplated staying where she was, letting him knock until he grew tired and left. In the morning, she could change motels, give instructions to the new clerk not to let anyone know that she was staying there.
Instead, she climbed off the bed and slipped a light robe over her pyjamas, before going to open it for him. She could tell that he had gotten dressed in a hurry. His t-shirt was on back to front, and he was wearing the old pair of tracksuit pants in which he slept. His hair had not been brushed and stood up around his head in defiant spikes. As she had imagined, his eyes were hopeful and fearful at the same time.
"Everything's fine. You didn't need to come," she told him, hugging herself, "How did you find my motel, anyway?"
"Phoned around to every one in Odaiba," he rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly sheepish, "Hika, you phoned me after midnight. Everything can't be fine."
She took a deep breath. There was no point stalling. Takeru would not leave until he had some answers, and she guessed that he had a right to them, "My period was late, so I took a pregnancy test tonight. It was positive."
His eyes widened, "You're kidding. We're having a baby?"
"We might be," she corrected him hastily, "You know how unreliable those tests can be. They always recommend you do two."
"I can get one for you now," he replied. She could see the excitement on his face, but she was not sure whether it was for the baby or for what it would mean to their relationship. After a childhood spent between two homes, Takeru couldn't be naive enough to believe that children were enough reason to reconcile, "I saw a twenty-four-hour pharmacy just around the corner from here."
"I have one. I've even taken it," she told him, feeling slightly ridiculous, "I just . . . just can't look at the results, you know."
He nodded, "Want to look at it together? Would that help?"
"O-okay," she said slowly, "It's on the counter in the bathroom."
Closing and locking the door behind himself, he followed her through into her motel-room. Like all motel-rooms everywhere, it was small and dingy. The walls had been freshly painted white, but that did little to disguise the cracks and pockmarks in them. The carpet was worn and all the furniture was slightly battered from years of previous occupants. Sunlight had faded the curtains to a non-descript shade of grey. She saw him grimace.
"Hika, I'll give you money for a better -"
"I won't take it," she interrupted him, "This is just temporary until I find a home of my own. I don't want to spend too much."
"You have a home," he said quietly, "If you ever want to come back to it."
She looked at the floor. She could not stand to see the misery on his face, knowing that she was the only one who could take it away, "We should go check that test."
"Fine," he sighed, "Come on."
Before they went into the bathroom, he held out his hand for her to take - an oddly child-like gesture. She hesitated for a second, then slipped her hand into his larger one and felt his fingers tighten around it. She had forgotten the warmth of his skin; his clean smell.
Taking another deep breath to steady herself, she pushed the door to the bathroom open. She could see the plastic stick lying on the counter, but she could not see whether the tester strip on it was white or blue. She buried her face in his shoulder, not caring that the gesture was too intimate for the strangers they were supposed to become. He clumsily kissed the top of her head.
"I can't look."
"It's white," he said softly, "You're not pregnant. You probably just missed your period because of stress. It happens, you know."
To her horror, tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. She tried to blink them back, to tell herself to be sensible, but she couldn't stop crying. He wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her back and whispering words of comfort. She could hear his heart beating, its regular rhythm carrying her away from herself and the emptiness inside. How many nights had she spent in his arms, warm and lazy from their lovemaking? When had she stopped believing that her love and desire for him were enough to call herself happy?
She could not help what happened next. Seemingly of their own accord, her lips found his and her hands slipped beneath his t-shirt. His skin was very soft and warm, and she could feel his muscles tense beneath her touch. He was kissing her back by then, his fingers fumbling at the buttons of her pyjama top. It slipped down over her shoulders and she let it fall to the floor, before helping him out of his own clothes. In just his white boxers, his body was as beautiful as she remembered it. Impatiently, she pulled him across to the bed and onto it.
"Hika, should we be doing this? I didn't bring . . . ."
She kissed him to keep him quiet. She did not want to think or speak. For the moment, it was enough simply to touch.