Mornings

By Cassandra Sisenta

A/N: This chappie turned out more dramatic than I thought it would…sigh

DISCLAIMER: I just own Yuri. Taiki is Takeuchi-sama's.

Chapter X

Taiki and Yuri

It had been raining that night.

The two of them had just closed up her art studio and they were supposed to head off to a restaurant for dinner and for some more conversation when it began to pour.

It had been a pleasant enough kind of rainfall, but he hadn't seen the beauty of it. He went about grumbling about the failure of the weather units before she had diverted his attention by running off into the middle of the downpour and allowing herself to be drenched.

She had been wearing a fine outfit consisting of a stylish maroon shirt over a slinky black skirt with a slit that went up to her knee over her favorite black boots, but she didn't care. She opened her arms out to the rain and raised her face to the heavens, reveling at the feel of the cool rain falling over her face.

Everything around her felt refreshing and she smelled fresh dew and earth. Her long, blue-black hair was clinging against her back but she didn't care. She twirled around in a circle under the rain as if she were a sorceress casting a spell, her skirt slapping slightly against her bare legs.

"It's so wonderful to be alive!" She called out, not caring if she looked insane.

The cool of the rain was suddenly lessened but not unpleasantly so when he suddenly came up to her and took her hand in his.

He was also drenched himself and she couldn't help but laugh at the slightly exasperated look on his usually serious face.

"You'll catch a cold, Yuri-san. You will." He reminded her with a small sigh as he moved to walk on, apparently also not caring anymore that he was wet as well.

She allowed him to lead her off as the rain continued to flow over them. She got a hold of his long, dangling brown ponytail and gave it a tug, making him exclaim slightly in surprise and in pain.

Stricken purple eyes were turned to her and it set off her laughter once again.

"Oh Tai-chan." She managed to tease him in between her giggles just as she stepped up beside him and wrapped her arm around his. She looked girlish and young as she peered up into his beautiful purple eyes and let out another giggle. "You are so uptight! Loosen up!"

They had stopped walking then and he had looked down at her.

She knew she would never see such beautiful eyes like his. They were an intense flash of color against his pale skin. They were so deep one could easily drown in them and if he would let it as he used to, such unbridled emotion could be revealed there. Now they were chips of ice, though never in her presence.

She had watched him grow, but it had only been now that she really saw the difference between the child that he was and the man that stood before her now. He was colder and more pained. He was harder and more cynical than ever before, but somehow she knew he hadn't completely changed.

Sometimes when they just stood together she would see softness in his eyes that she knew he could never really hide from her, his teacher, his Weaver-sama.

Like at that moment, for example.

His coldness had all fallen away and he was looking at her with eyes that completely warmed her and drew her in.

She forgot about the rain.

She forgot about her earlier comment and that she had been waiting for his response.

"You haven't changed, Yuri-san."

"You've grown up, Tai-chan."

"Hai."

Then they were kissing. The moment that she felt his lips over hers she felt her spirits soar and her soul sing to the heavens. She had never felt this way about anything else she had encountered before. Never before had she felt such dizzying sensation, making her body feel complete. It was as if, if they stopped and he let go, she would die and it would be the end of her.

A kiss had never quite felt like this.

But then it had to stop. They had to breath and reality had to crash down around them.

She was looking at him with shock and fear suddenly.

She had kissed him.

She had kissed her little Tai-chan, who wasn't so little anymore.

She pulled away from the comfortable crook of his arms where she had felt so complete. Her senses protested, wanting his warmth and looking for his distinctive scent of lavender. Her skin called to be warmed by him, her lips aching for his.

"Yuri-san…" His voice was soft, tender, careful, and everything else that she looked for but didn't know.

It was raining again, but this time she wanted to die.

"Taiki…" She began, her voice soft but cracking with impending tears. "I'm sorry…"

And she ran.

He didn't come after her.

She hadn't seen him for two weeks, four days, fifteen hours, and nine seconds.

She had unknowingly counted the moments she hadn't seen him and for how long it had been since she had retreated into her dark place of confusion and torment.

Reality.

She now sat in a coffee shop with a steaming cup of black coffee in front of her. Dressed in her usual stylish clothes and well-made make up and hair, she barely showed the fatigue that was there. She hadn't slept the night before, just like how she hadn't slept for five nights now.

The coffee was bitter in her tongue, but she drank it.

Was she punishing herself?

Why was she staying away from him?
What was so wrong with kissing him?

He had been such a child then.

She can't be more than an elder sister to him.

She just can't.

No.

Even if she yearned for him and the sound of his voice speaking of beautiful things like poetry and music.

And his purple eyes, which always seemed to call to her wherever she turned.

She closed her eyes and took another sip of her black coffee.

It burned in her stomach and she felt the intensity of her downed spirits.

The front door opened with a jingle of a bell.

"Ohayo!"

No response.

Familiar footsteps.

She stiffened and stopped at the sound of them.

They kept on coming.

She placed her cup down.

She couldn't look at him.

She just couldn't.

They stopped right beside her.

No.

She won't.

"We have to talk."

She didn't move to acknowledge him.

"Please."

She looked up at the small word.

His eyes were beautiful in their sorrow.

She could write a poem about them.

"All right."

She answered softly, her breath tickling with the bitter taste of coffee and confusion.