By: Hanyoukai
.
.
Disclaimer:
Inuyasha: (hair mussed) Plot? Keh. This is much better...
Miroku: (clothes in disarray) Groan. Yes, yes.
Shippou: Ahh! I'm too young to see this! Kaede!
Kaede: Blind. I am blind.
(break)
Naraku: Ku! A split end! Someone must die!
Kagura: Okay! And let's go out for ice cream after!
Naraku: Only if you pay.
Kagura: Pout. Cheapskate.
Kanna: Yup. That was foretold in the mirror too!
(break)
Goshinki: in a high-pitched voice Mou. I need a hug! Come sing and dance with me, Naraku.
Naraku: Need. A. Freaking. Therapist.
Warning(s): My index finger is deformed from archery! Whimper. Oh right... Major OOC!
A.N.: Oh my gosh. This story is suddenly turning, well, romantic. Gulp. I think I need to inflict some bodily injuries on someone. Or... or something.
Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! Without you, I don't know if I'd even have the will to continue writing.
You guys wanted length? Well, I tried to deliver. But it's unfortunately lacking in quality, albeit being the longest chapter yet (even though it's not at all long compared to many other fanfics out there).
.
.
.
Chapter Eight: A Flash of Fervour
.
The world was built on impermanence.
Fleeting like the snow, as it struck the ground, dissolving until only the barest hint of moisture was left to confirm its presence.
But she never seemed to leave his thoughts.
It was as if the wily wind would never let her fall, carrying her up into the air each and every time.
Just as he was ready to let go, to see her finally crash.
.
.
.
Much later, as hot water from the shower nozzle drizzled over him, Sesshoumaru felt the sudden urge to see her again.
Insane. He must be insane.
Because... because Kagome was dangerous.
Not that he was afraid, or anything.
No. Merely irritated. Beyond belief, that is.
He had always prided himself on his awesome ability to keep a tight leash on his emotions.
Yet, she always made him want to punch a hole through a wall.
And those anger management classes that Inuyasha had signed him up to hadn't helped much at all.
Resist. Must, freaking, resist, he chanted over and over in his mind.
Even if she did have a really cute nose... and slim, dainty ankles.
Ughn.
And the extremely annoying habit of staring at him with those big, clear eyes of hers, he reminded himself.
Resist, he began chanting once more.
Except, his body didn't seem to be listening to his brain.
After negligently toweling his thick, soaking hair, Sesshoumaru found himself dressing quickly, and then leaving his apartment.
But not before retrieving a wrinkled slip of paper from his desk drawer.
.
.
.
So, somehow, he found himself knocking on Kagome's front door for the second time in past two days.
Tick. Tick.
He still had time to leave without her ever knowing that he had been here.
His feet wouldn't budge.
He swore mentally, not for the first time that day. It was like - like he had some sort of a... a disease! Or something.
Too late, he heard the lock turning, and finally, the door slowly opened.
Swoosh.
Bleary, grey eyes blinked up at him, cheeks flushed from sleep.
Pretty, he couldn't help thinking. Even in a pair of childish pajamas, her long hair tousled and in messy waves, she looked... radiant and pure.
One slim hand reached up to cover her mouth, as Kagome yawned endearingly.
His heart began to palpitate.
Thump.
Thump thump.
Say something suave, he told himself.
"I, uh - there's, erm, there's an eyelash stuck to your nose," he blurted, grimacing inwardly.
Large eyes blinked some more. "It's late. What are you doing here?" she finally replied, frowning slightly in confusion.
Her grip on the heavy tennis racket tightened almost imperceptibly.
He almost smiled at noticing the potential weapon that was partially concealed behind her back.
Kagome coughed delicately and pointedly.
Uhn.
For the first time in his entire twenty-nine years of existence, Sesshoumaru's mind drew a blank.
And then, something extraordinary happened.
The whisper-thin eyelash on the bridge of her nose began to do a dizzying jig.
Fascinating. That's never happened before.
His right hand reached out, of a will of its own, and brushed gently across her nose.
Only to get rid of the eyelash, he assured himself.
Kagome's nose wrinkled instinctively from his feather-like touch. "Stop that," she managed to whisper, albeit hoarsely.
Remarkable.
It was as if - as if he could no longer control himself. His hand moved from her nose to caress her smooth, blushing cheeks.
Amazing.
This feeling. It was overwhelming, he was mesmerized, and his heart, now lodged permanently in his throat, felt like it would combust.
Thrilling.
The back of his hand swept softly across her lips.
Once, twice.
Then his lips met hers.
Swoosh.
.
.
.
The tennis racket slipped from Kagome's slack hands, and fell with a clatter onto the ground.
Oh. My. Kami.
She must still be dreaming. Or maybe it was some sort of a Pocky-induced hallucination.
Right.
Because there was no way in hell that she was, as we speak, standing at her front door, kissing Sesshoumaru, of all people.
So in this weird dream of hers, both her hands were tangled deep in his silver locks. And she could feel his thumb rubbing gentle circles over her jaw, as his lips roamed over hers.
While his other arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against his hard chest.
Impossible.
Probably just a trick of her wicked, wicked - not to mention deprived - mind.
Yet, the tingling feelings traveling all across her spine seemed too real, and her brain felt like it was in overload. And - oh my!
Sesshoumaru - no wait, rather, her hallucination of him - started to trail his lips down her neck.
Kagome moaned softly, tilting her head to one side, to give him better access.
Just a little to the left...
It may have been wrong, but she never wanted to wake up. Or to stop eating Pocky, for that matter.
Then... his lips were gone, his hands came around her shoulders, and they pushed her slowly away.
She shivered slightly, breathless, as the cold air from the hallway soon replaced the heat from his body.
Heavy, charcoal eyes lifted to meet burning, golden orbs.
Too real, Kagome thought suddenly.
He even smelled real.
Eau de Sesshoumaru, now available for a limited time only at department stores near you!
"Gomen nasai", the mirage mumbled, eyes shying away from hers.
Taking a small step forward, Kagome traced her fingertips over his eyebrows, his aristocratic nose.
"It's alright. You're just a dream," she whispered wistfully. "Just a dream."
Then...
Then a familiar, awful smirk began to play along his lips.
"Why Higurashi, I didn't know you made it a habit to dream about me," he said. "I'm honoured. Really."
No.
Kagome shook her head in denial, moved back abruptly, and promptly tripped over her fallen tennis racket.
Thunk.
Ow. That had hurt. Which meant... that it wasn't an illusion after all?
A sinking feeling was felt in the pit of her stomach.
Holy. Crap.
Her life as she knew it was officially over.
Staring up into his smug, flushed face, she wanted to hide.
Or better yet, to die. Quickly and efficiently.
"Kill me now," she mumbled, more than a little embarrassed.
Sesshoumaru laughed.
Surprised, Kagome looked up, and almost felt like laughing too. She'd never heard him so happy before.
Ding. The sound of the elevator doors sliding open could be heard from outside in the hallway.
And then, reality crashed for one Higurashi Kagome.
She bounded up in one leap, slamming the door shut with one hand, and trapping him against it with the other.
"Why are you here?" she hissed angrily, jabbing him in the chest with her index finger.
"I - I... don't know," he stuttered uncharacteristically, the smirk disappearing from his face.
"Like hell," she retorted sarcastically. "So you just somehow found yourself on my doorstep, and decided to kiss me? Who do you think you are? Waltzing in here, and taking advantage of my vulnerable state of half-sleep?" she asked, punctuating each word with a sharp jab of her finger against his firm shoulder blades.
Even if she had wanted it. Wanted him.
Still, people didn't change that quickly. And she still despised him.
Even if he was super hot.
"I didn't need anyone."
Startled, she gazed into his fierce eyes. "Excuse me?"
"I didn't need anyone," he repeated. Then, tenderly taking her face in his hands, his glowing eyes awash in fervour, he kissed her lightly on the forehead.
Swoosh.
And before she knew it, he was gone.
Leaving only a small strip of worn paper, with the writing of a child's crude kanji, fluttering downward in the air.
.
.
.
Cursing vividly, Sesshoumaru exited the apartment building, fuming at his stupidity.
"I - I... don't know."
What kind of a moronic answer was that?
From arrogant and snide to a blubbering baka in one second flat. He should, like, win some sort of an award.
And how could he have lost control so fast? It just wasn't at all like him.
His fists clenched.
Except when she was involved. At least previously, he hadn't let it show. This time though...
He could still feel the imprint of her lips on his.
"Gomen nasai."
He had apologized immediately afterward.
Yet, he wasn't sorry.
No.
Because he still wanted her.
Just as he'd always want chocolate and almond Pocky.
.
.
.
Okay. I felt kind of nauseous writing that. lol. Or maybe I just have terribly mild sensibilities. Cough. Or perhaps I just hate writing clichés. And this chapter does seem rather trite.
And now I have sorely neglected economics homework. Mou.
Anyway, thank you for reading, and please review!
