Chapter Three Nagi's perspective
I should not have done what I did yesterday, but I was unable to help myself. When I touched Omi's hand and he blushed simultaneously I had the irrepressible need to discover if the two instances were related, for no one ever tinged under my touch before. I'd even slipped and referred to him as 'Omi' aloud and I could not currently cease calling him that within the confines of my mind. I must admit that the name felt perfect on my tongue somehow.
Anyway, the moment it had come to my attention that I'd addressed him by that label I had exited the room. Omi was apparently unperturbed by my actions, or he'd actually enjoyed them because he was using my name and smiling more than was his prevalent wont.
"Want some help cooking dinner, Nagi?" offered Omi.
Help? No one ever volunteered to help me and I never dreamt of requesting it. The world dumped shit on me and I dealt with it. I could cope with almost anything unaided since I had received so much unwanted practise. Neutrally, I informed, "I've got in under control."
"Are you sure? I feel bad about you being the one to cook everyday."
"I'm used to it. I always cook for my teammates. Schuldich won't, Crawford is too busy, and we can't trust Farfarello around flames."
"Really? Your food is delicious, so the must be very grateful." He bounced further into the kitchen to watch me make the shrimp scampi abstaining the use of my hands. When I gave an almost inconceivable shrug in response Omi gasped, "You mean they don't compliment you, or even thank you?"
"No. Why should they?" I commented, unconcerned. "Running a household is like running a mission: everyone does their part and if they screw up they get punished; if they do what they're supposed to they don't need a gold star."
"We don't congratulate one another for everything that we do either, but we support each other. You guys do that, don't you?"
"Of course we do. On business."
"Only on missions? Not in life?"
"They leave me alone and I leave them alone. That's the way we like it...Unless Schuldich is in the mood to irritate me. Consider yourself lucky you never lived with a telepath."
"They're not your friends?" For rationalisations I could not commence to interpret he behaved as if such an idea was unbearably tragic. Why was friendship so important to him? I never needed it. Wanted it? Well, maybe. Perhaps the most miniscule bit, but never needed it.
"Definitely not. I want no part of their hobbies. Schuldich likes sex and ruining lives. He combines them both when he can. Farfarello likes hurting God. Crawford...He's known me since I was quite young, so I guess he's more than a colleague like the other two are. He's a detached, logical perfectionist."
"He's known you that long? Wow! How'd you meet him?"
My past was certainly a topic of conversation I desired to avoid. I had inadvertently revealed too much already since Omi was such an easy individual to talk to. He was honest, sincere, and genuinely interested in what I had to say. Not to mention the condition that he had offered to assist me. It was difficult for me to grasp the concept that Omi might appreciate me as a person and not just appreciate my skills as Schwarz did, however, I could speculate no other explanation for his bahaviour. Albeit, I would not allow myself to become too close to him, for what good would come of it? "You pry too much," I snapped.
He glanced down at his feet. "Sorry."
Damn, I didn't mean to upset him. Wait! When did I start caring about anyone's feelings, much less his? I shook my head slightly, telling myself to get a grip.
"Nagi?" Omi put his hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay? You never shake your head for no reason." Unbelievable. He actually took the time to notice things pertaining to me and was worried about me? He must have an ulterior motive. I gazed into his eyes searching for a sign of deviousness, yet there was naught to be found. His eyes were a unique and enchanting hue. Cerulean, I decided. A sigh of warm, sweet breath against my face roused me from my reverie. "Nagi?" Omi repeated.
I pulled back from him slightly, needing to escape from whatever he was doing to me. "I'm fine," I stated as coldly as I could manage. "If you really want to help you can put the rice balls on the table. They'll be done now."
Omi smiled and suddenly it was difficult to stand. It was equal to my knees becoming weak like a girl's. How ridiculous! Yes, I was mildly attracted to him, though I did NOT have a pathetic schoolgirl crush. Thankfully, Omi was eager to do what I'd suggested and moved away from me.
After a meal during which I felt too awkward to speak very much Omi jovially recommended, "Let's do something together."
"Like what?" I inquired cautiously.
Evidently contemplating aloud to himself at first, he murmured, "We could watch a movie, but he'd be emotionless the entire time. - I know! We can hack into a government system."
"Why?"
"It's something we're both good at. Besides, I love hacking and Aya only lets me do it for work. Please! I won't be able to use the computer to get in touch with Weiss for help if you're with me." He looked so hopeful. His large enthralling eyes were wobbly and his bottom lip was stuck out in a pout.
I could have rejected that face. I'm absolutely 100 positive that I could have, though I chose to agree and was not disappointed by the adorably gleeful reaction that my reply caused.
We sat adjacent to one another in front of the monitor, both of us pointedly ignoring that our knees were touching. Within minutes we had overcome the pitiful security system and had access to all sorts of confidential federal files. We would not use them; we'd simply wanted the challenge of getting them. I could have done it by myself; however, it would have taken me numerous seconds longer without his assistance.
Omi declared, "We make a good team."
The corners of my mouth palpitated; not enough to be determined a smile. "Yes, we do."
