((AN: This has been seriously revised. To those of you who read this before, you were very, very brave. I think you'll find things much improved. Please, feel free to leave me ANY sort of review you think is necessary. I'm tough, I can take it! - Thanks again, and enjoy!))
CHAPTER 4
"It was a minor attack. It happens sometimes if he gets weak or stressed."
"Ah, I remember. He had a cold, last time."
Yuki lay on his bed with his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep as he listened to the reassuring rhythm of his own breathing. It felt like he was never going to leave his room. The cold metal of a stethoscope slid over his ribs, rested over his heart, then disappeared. Hatori closed Yuki's pajama top and tugged the blankets back into place.
"But he'll be okay, right?" Tohru asked. Yuki could see her in his mind's eye, innocent brown eyes huge in her heart-shaped face, her sleep-mussed braids lying on the shoulders of her pink robe. He could hear the worry in her voice, and guilt gnawed at him. It was his fault she was upset.
"He'll be fine." Hatori answered. "He's got a low fever, but it's not serious. It should abate by this evening. He just needs to rest." The stiff lab coat rustled against the bed, catching the blanket a little, and Yuki heard Hatori's medical bag snap shut. "I have some medication to leave with you, just in case, but we can go over that downstairs. We should probably let him sleep."
"H-hai..." Tohru hesitated, and Yuki could feel her leaning over his bed. "Yuki-kun, I'm going downstairs with Hatori-san, but I'll be back soon. Try to rest, okay?"
He kept his eyes closed and didn't answer. If he'd been able give her a smile and tell her he was fine, he would have, but that would've been a lie. He was angry at himself and embarrassed that Tohru had had to stop his tirade like a mother restraining a two-year-old. She couldn't help but think less of him for it, and he couldn't face her knowing he'd disappointed her.
There was a pause, then Hatori said gently, "Come," and two sets of footsteps left the room. The door shut with a soft tap, and Yuki was alone.
His stomach ached suddenly, and he rolled over to face the wall, curling up into a ball. This was so humiliating. He hated being sick, hated showing any weakness. It was bad enough he'd done it in front of Tohru, but to lose it in front of Kyou...! Yuki had managed to keep his feelings inside for so long, and with one comment Kyou had shattered the careful barrier that kept them safe. He'd let Kyou see how hurt he was, a dangerous slip that could end up costing more than Yuki wanted to pay.
He scrunched the pillow, frustrated. Why did the stupid cat have to keep tormenting him? Akito had forced them to live together, to constantly remind Yuki of what he couldn't have, but that didn't mean Kyou had to act so gung-ho about it. If he'd just try to forget, like Yuki did, things would be so much easier. "You're making things harder than they have to be. Why can't you just leave me alone??" he said aloud.
"I wouldn't have to be here if you'd just carry an inhaler."
Yuki's heart lurched and he sat bolt upright, startled, the blankets falling into his lap. Kyou stood in the doorway, obviously angry, a tray in his hands. He still had on the gi pants, but he'd thrown on a close-fitting red t-shirt. He kicked the door shut with a vicious jerk of his foot, then crossed the room, banging the tray down on the nightstand and almost spilling the cup of liquid on it.
"This is yours. Tohru asked me to bring it to you while she talks to Hatori, so see? It's not my idea to be here. I have absolutely zero desire to be in your room."
"Liar," Yuki said flatly.
Kyou stared back unflinchingly. "Are you trying to start a fight while you're sick?"
"If you don't want to be in my room," Yuki persisted, "then why were you here last night?"
Kyou scowled. "Maybe I just wanted to kick your ass," he said nastily. The second the words were out his expression changed, and he grimaced. "Forget it. It doesn't matter. You'll believe what you want anyway." He leaned back on one leg, crossing his arms and looking pointedly at the steaming mug. "You look like shit, you know. Just drink your tea or whatever the hell that is and go to sleep. I don't beat up sick people."
Yuki glared at him, but he picked up the cup. At least it smelled good, a sort of sweet lemon tea. He brought it to his lips and took a sip, watching over the rim of the glass as Kyou, satisfied Yuki was following instructions, went to the door. Yuki was so intent on making faces at his cousin that he wasn't paying attention, and he swallowed the wrong way. He managed to set the mug down, but he choked on the tea, coughing explosively into his cupped hands.
He sensed more than saw Kyou stop in the doorway before his cousin asked tightly, "Are you okay?"
Tears blurred Yuki's vision, and he nodded weakly, still coughing. "...fine." The hazy red blot that was Kyou's shirt didn't move, and Yuki blushed. If he ever stopped looking stupid in front of Kyou, it would be a miracle.
The coughing tapered off, leaving his chest sore. He wiped his eyes with the back of one wrist, still embarrassed, and glanced over at Kyou. "I'm fine," he replied, more rudely than he'd intended. "Go."
"Yeah." His cousin was poised to leave, his back to the rat, one hand on the half-open door, the other against the doorframe. The red fabric stretched taut across his shoulders, showing hard, flat planes of muscle as he shrugged angrily. "Don't wanna make things hard for you."
Yuki flushed. "I wasn't talking about you."
"Really. And just who were you talking about?"
It was such an obvious lie that Yuki didn't try to continue. "Don't you have something to do?"
Kyou stiffened. "I thought I did, but I guess I don't."
"What?" Yuki asked, and just like that, understanding struck him like lightning from a clear sky. He was so blind. Kyou wasn't just angry; he was hurt. The events of the past hour shot through Yuki's head as though on fast-forward, showing every cruel response he'd given to someone who'd just been trying to help him. Someone who still tried, even though he got nothing in return.
It was more than sad, it was pathetic. Shame curled through him, and disbelief. He'd given Kyou up to keep him safe, and ironically had wounded him just as badly as Akito would have – maybe worse. If he hadn't been so busy trying to deny his own feelings, maybe he would have noticed the damage he was doing.
His heart twisted as the full weight of what he'd done settled over him, and he yearned for a way to make things right, to smooth the injury from Kyou's shoulders and wipe the angry look from his face. He wanted, no, needed to be close to Kyou.
"My poor neko..." He pushed the covers back before he knew what he was doing, swinging a leg over the edge of the bed. His foot touched the wooden floor with a small slap, and Kyou turned slightly, looking back over his shoulder, furious.
Yuki stopped, pinned by Kyou's gaze as the light peeking through the blinds caught the taller boy perfectly. His copper hair turned into shimmery flame, and his eyes glinted red and pupiless, like a cat's at night. He was stunning in his anger, beautiful and untouchable, and Yuki put a hand against the mattress, dazed.
"Are you trying to make fun of me?"
It wasn't until Kyou spoke that Yuki realized he was staring. He came back to himself abruptly, clearing his throat and tearing his eyes from his cousin. "No," he said roughly. His hands were fists, pressing against the cuts his nails had made before. He'd forgotten just how handsome Kyou was. It was a shock to be forcibly reminded that no matter what had happened between them, his cousin could still have an effect on him.
The door scraped, and Yuki's head snapped up, his eyes going to the source of the sound. "Kyou..."
The cat stopped again, impatient, but didn't look back. "What?"
"Ah..." Words suddenly failed him, and Kyou shook his head without turning around. Yuki's heart sank. He stared at Kyou's back, trying desperately to say something that would erase four months of pain. "I..."
I love you. Just say it. I love you...
"What, Yuki?"
Yuki huddled back against the bed, miserable, his knees trembling. He was so close, but he couldn't do it. It was too much, too soon. "I'm sorry," he finally whispered, and even as he said it he knew it wasn't enough.
"Sorry for what?" Kyou asked, still facing the hallway. "Sorry for breaking up with me four months ago? Sorry for pretending we never existed? Or sorry for screaming at me and scaring Tohru half out of her wits?"
"For all of it." Please forgive me, Kyou-kun. I can't stand it anymore. "Everything."
"I see." Kyou's hand slid off the doorway. "I think you'd better get some sleep. We'll talk later."
Yuki didn't know what to say, but it didn't matter. Kyou stepped out of the room and slid the door shut behind him. His footsteps followed the path of Tohru's and Hatori's down the stairs, and a few minutes later Yuki could hear the three of them chatting.
His legs gave out and he fell to the floor, shaking. Tears fell straight down, plopping heavily onto the floor and the backs of his hands. Kyou had said they would talk. It was a small hope, but he clung to it, wondering if he was crazy to still be thinking about Kyou this way. If Akito found out...
It was a while before Yuki could move, and when he did, he climbed back onto the bed and lay down, touching the place where Kyou's scent was. Resolutely he shut his eyes, relying on his body's need for rest to overcome his flustered thoughts. Eventually, he fell asleep, and he didn't dream at all.
((Damn, Yuki sleeps a lot! Well, he's been sick, cut him some slack. Anyhoo, next chapter's the last, so keep a weather eye open, and hope that our star-crossed lovebirds can work things out!))
CHAPTER 4
"It was a minor attack. It happens sometimes if he gets weak or stressed."
"Ah, I remember. He had a cold, last time."
Yuki lay on his bed with his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep as he listened to the reassuring rhythm of his own breathing. It felt like he was never going to leave his room. The cold metal of a stethoscope slid over his ribs, rested over his heart, then disappeared. Hatori closed Yuki's pajama top and tugged the blankets back into place.
"But he'll be okay, right?" Tohru asked. Yuki could see her in his mind's eye, innocent brown eyes huge in her heart-shaped face, her sleep-mussed braids lying on the shoulders of her pink robe. He could hear the worry in her voice, and guilt gnawed at him. It was his fault she was upset.
"He'll be fine." Hatori answered. "He's got a low fever, but it's not serious. It should abate by this evening. He just needs to rest." The stiff lab coat rustled against the bed, catching the blanket a little, and Yuki heard Hatori's medical bag snap shut. "I have some medication to leave with you, just in case, but we can go over that downstairs. We should probably let him sleep."
"H-hai..." Tohru hesitated, and Yuki could feel her leaning over his bed. "Yuki-kun, I'm going downstairs with Hatori-san, but I'll be back soon. Try to rest, okay?"
He kept his eyes closed and didn't answer. If he'd been able give her a smile and tell her he was fine, he would have, but that would've been a lie. He was angry at himself and embarrassed that Tohru had had to stop his tirade like a mother restraining a two-year-old. She couldn't help but think less of him for it, and he couldn't face her knowing he'd disappointed her.
There was a pause, then Hatori said gently, "Come," and two sets of footsteps left the room. The door shut with a soft tap, and Yuki was alone.
His stomach ached suddenly, and he rolled over to face the wall, curling up into a ball. This was so humiliating. He hated being sick, hated showing any weakness. It was bad enough he'd done it in front of Tohru, but to lose it in front of Kyou...! Yuki had managed to keep his feelings inside for so long, and with one comment Kyou had shattered the careful barrier that kept them safe. He'd let Kyou see how hurt he was, a dangerous slip that could end up costing more than Yuki wanted to pay.
He scrunched the pillow, frustrated. Why did the stupid cat have to keep tormenting him? Akito had forced them to live together, to constantly remind Yuki of what he couldn't have, but that didn't mean Kyou had to act so gung-ho about it. If he'd just try to forget, like Yuki did, things would be so much easier. "You're making things harder than they have to be. Why can't you just leave me alone??" he said aloud.
"I wouldn't have to be here if you'd just carry an inhaler."
Yuki's heart lurched and he sat bolt upright, startled, the blankets falling into his lap. Kyou stood in the doorway, obviously angry, a tray in his hands. He still had on the gi pants, but he'd thrown on a close-fitting red t-shirt. He kicked the door shut with a vicious jerk of his foot, then crossed the room, banging the tray down on the nightstand and almost spilling the cup of liquid on it.
"This is yours. Tohru asked me to bring it to you while she talks to Hatori, so see? It's not my idea to be here. I have absolutely zero desire to be in your room."
"Liar," Yuki said flatly.
Kyou stared back unflinchingly. "Are you trying to start a fight while you're sick?"
"If you don't want to be in my room," Yuki persisted, "then why were you here last night?"
Kyou scowled. "Maybe I just wanted to kick your ass," he said nastily. The second the words were out his expression changed, and he grimaced. "Forget it. It doesn't matter. You'll believe what you want anyway." He leaned back on one leg, crossing his arms and looking pointedly at the steaming mug. "You look like shit, you know. Just drink your tea or whatever the hell that is and go to sleep. I don't beat up sick people."
Yuki glared at him, but he picked up the cup. At least it smelled good, a sort of sweet lemon tea. He brought it to his lips and took a sip, watching over the rim of the glass as Kyou, satisfied Yuki was following instructions, went to the door. Yuki was so intent on making faces at his cousin that he wasn't paying attention, and he swallowed the wrong way. He managed to set the mug down, but he choked on the tea, coughing explosively into his cupped hands.
He sensed more than saw Kyou stop in the doorway before his cousin asked tightly, "Are you okay?"
Tears blurred Yuki's vision, and he nodded weakly, still coughing. "...fine." The hazy red blot that was Kyou's shirt didn't move, and Yuki blushed. If he ever stopped looking stupid in front of Kyou, it would be a miracle.
The coughing tapered off, leaving his chest sore. He wiped his eyes with the back of one wrist, still embarrassed, and glanced over at Kyou. "I'm fine," he replied, more rudely than he'd intended. "Go."
"Yeah." His cousin was poised to leave, his back to the rat, one hand on the half-open door, the other against the doorframe. The red fabric stretched taut across his shoulders, showing hard, flat planes of muscle as he shrugged angrily. "Don't wanna make things hard for you."
Yuki flushed. "I wasn't talking about you."
"Really. And just who were you talking about?"
It was such an obvious lie that Yuki didn't try to continue. "Don't you have something to do?"
Kyou stiffened. "I thought I did, but I guess I don't."
"What?" Yuki asked, and just like that, understanding struck him like lightning from a clear sky. He was so blind. Kyou wasn't just angry; he was hurt. The events of the past hour shot through Yuki's head as though on fast-forward, showing every cruel response he'd given to someone who'd just been trying to help him. Someone who still tried, even though he got nothing in return.
It was more than sad, it was pathetic. Shame curled through him, and disbelief. He'd given Kyou up to keep him safe, and ironically had wounded him just as badly as Akito would have – maybe worse. If he hadn't been so busy trying to deny his own feelings, maybe he would have noticed the damage he was doing.
His heart twisted as the full weight of what he'd done settled over him, and he yearned for a way to make things right, to smooth the injury from Kyou's shoulders and wipe the angry look from his face. He wanted, no, needed to be close to Kyou.
"My poor neko..." He pushed the covers back before he knew what he was doing, swinging a leg over the edge of the bed. His foot touched the wooden floor with a small slap, and Kyou turned slightly, looking back over his shoulder, furious.
Yuki stopped, pinned by Kyou's gaze as the light peeking through the blinds caught the taller boy perfectly. His copper hair turned into shimmery flame, and his eyes glinted red and pupiless, like a cat's at night. He was stunning in his anger, beautiful and untouchable, and Yuki put a hand against the mattress, dazed.
"Are you trying to make fun of me?"
It wasn't until Kyou spoke that Yuki realized he was staring. He came back to himself abruptly, clearing his throat and tearing his eyes from his cousin. "No," he said roughly. His hands were fists, pressing against the cuts his nails had made before. He'd forgotten just how handsome Kyou was. It was a shock to be forcibly reminded that no matter what had happened between them, his cousin could still have an effect on him.
The door scraped, and Yuki's head snapped up, his eyes going to the source of the sound. "Kyou..."
The cat stopped again, impatient, but didn't look back. "What?"
"Ah..." Words suddenly failed him, and Kyou shook his head without turning around. Yuki's heart sank. He stared at Kyou's back, trying desperately to say something that would erase four months of pain. "I..."
I love you. Just say it. I love you...
"What, Yuki?"
Yuki huddled back against the bed, miserable, his knees trembling. He was so close, but he couldn't do it. It was too much, too soon. "I'm sorry," he finally whispered, and even as he said it he knew it wasn't enough.
"Sorry for what?" Kyou asked, still facing the hallway. "Sorry for breaking up with me four months ago? Sorry for pretending we never existed? Or sorry for screaming at me and scaring Tohru half out of her wits?"
"For all of it." Please forgive me, Kyou-kun. I can't stand it anymore. "Everything."
"I see." Kyou's hand slid off the doorway. "I think you'd better get some sleep. We'll talk later."
Yuki didn't know what to say, but it didn't matter. Kyou stepped out of the room and slid the door shut behind him. His footsteps followed the path of Tohru's and Hatori's down the stairs, and a few minutes later Yuki could hear the three of them chatting.
His legs gave out and he fell to the floor, shaking. Tears fell straight down, plopping heavily onto the floor and the backs of his hands. Kyou had said they would talk. It was a small hope, but he clung to it, wondering if he was crazy to still be thinking about Kyou this way. If Akito found out...
It was a while before Yuki could move, and when he did, he climbed back onto the bed and lay down, touching the place where Kyou's scent was. Resolutely he shut his eyes, relying on his body's need for rest to overcome his flustered thoughts. Eventually, he fell asleep, and he didn't dream at all.
((Damn, Yuki sleeps a lot! Well, he's been sick, cut him some slack. Anyhoo, next chapter's the last, so keep a weather eye open, and hope that our star-crossed lovebirds can work things out!))