Author's Notes: Wow, I haven't written anything in such a long time. Well, I've written academic stuff. Way too much academic stuff. It makes me feel so stiff... just like this is stiff. My writing feels so lackluster right now. I just needed to get myself out of a rut.

Blankets Were The Best I Could Do

In the darkness I curled tighter under my blankets. I tried to burrow within myself for warmth, wedging my hands between my thighs, and hunching over. Maybe if I could force my face into my stomach and vanish into myself, I would be warm. I'd been shivering for so long, my back hurt. Right between my shoulders, you know? It started as a dull soreness, but it grew into a dark, insistent ache, from being tense for too long. I longed to relax, but it was too cold, and no amount of blankets would change that.

The faint glow of the moonlight reflecting off the snow snuck in through a small break in the tent's seam. It only made me colder.

In reality, this was all my fault.

I could see Miaka huddled under her blankets, half of which were really mine. Something about the way she shivered, the way she smiled bravely despite the cold, the way her breath came in soft puffs of smoke, the small sounds that escaped as her teeth chattered. My blankets were the best I could do.

Oh, how I wish I could keep you warm. If I could, I would wrap myself in you, and wrap you in me. Tangle my fingers in your chestnut hair, hold you close, cradle you as you sleep, rub my hands together and then warm yours... if I could. If only. Blankets were the best I could do.

In the darkness, I could see her silhouette. At some point in the night, she'd snuggled up to Tamahome, and now he was wedged uncomfortably in her little nest of warmth. His back was angled awkwardly to accommodate her, his feet stuck out from the blankets to avoid making her lose any blanket. He held her. He held her close. I could imagine the smell of her hair, the feel of her softness in his arms... despite the discomfort, it must have been worth it.

I hugged myself under my blankets. I would gladly bend my back and have cold feet, if I could hold her. Touch her. Kiss her. Warm myself. Warm her. Feel her small hand on my arm, feel her nuzzle her nose into my chest, feel her turn in her sleep and snuggle under my chin. Share a sleepy kiss in the early morning before falling asleep again...

My shoulders would ache, but it would be a different ache. They would ache from making way for that wonderfully sweet little creature, not from the cold, the tension, the loneliness. The loneliness that is laying alone in the dark, shivering, and longing.

With you, I would never be cold.

Without you, I just shiver and curl up into myself. If only my arms, and not my blankets, were warming you. If only. But blankets were the best I could do.

But that smile you gave me when I snuck up behind you and lay the blankets on your small, trembling form... that smile could melt the snow off the ground.

In a perfect world, I would wake to that smile, I would hold you, I would never let you go. I live for that smile. In a perfect world, that smile would only vanish when I gently kiss those delicate lips... I would melt the ice from her lips, banish the cold night, share secret smiles and devious laughter in the dark...

If only my arms, and not my blankets, were warming her. If only I could hold her, cradle her, treasure her, kiss her, love her, LOVE HER, objectify her, desire her, become her, touch her, feel her... be her...

But blankets were the best I could do...

Endnote: It's up to you to decide who the narrator is. shrug