Chapter 8
Mari never quite appreciated wine as much as she could kick back with a good beer and music. But the Ootori was a man of what he considered to have refined taste so Mari could only sit in his apartment and sip what was given: a bodacious red with hints of oak that was supposedly aged for decades in a barrel somewhere in Italy.
He kept his space clean. Minimal. Everything was in some sort of hue of grey. It was a true reflection of who he was. Mari could have sworn that his coffee table repelled dust. She could probably eat off the floor if needed.
"The last time I drank wine was two years ago at Kanda's wedding," Mari commented. "How things have changed since then," she reminisced.
"Have they?" Kyouya sat across from her on the couch with his own glass. He swirled the liquid before taking a sip.
"Well, we're graduating," she noted. "You seem to have done well for yourself. President of whatever business association there is," it was obvious Mari didn't really keep up with him. Only heard of him through the grapevine. "Winning case competitions. Networking. Working for your family's company during the summers. Probably holding a 4.0 GPA while doing it all."
"And you," Kyouya tipped his wine glass towards her. "You're published in two papers."
Mari chuckled. "I list off at least 3 achievements that you've accomplished and I… seem to only have two measly papers under my belt. Perhaps things haven't changed. I'm still mediocre and you're still the overachiever."
The Ootori blinked. "It isn't often that undergraduates have their names attached to published papers. You worked hard for those, I'm sure."
Mari sipped on the wine quietly. "I did," she admitted. It was odd taking a compliment from the Shadow King. Or Hades, as she used to call him. All those hours spent in the lab in her spare time between being in lectures, her own lab classes, and studying – they accumulated to two publications. Obviously, she wasn't the primary author – just her name tacked onto the publication. But still a decent start to academia, one would say.
"What's next?"
"Master's of Public Health here," Kyouya shrugged. "You?"
"Probably the same. But in science." Mari answered.
The Ootori raised an eyebrow at her. "You seem to… like academia?"
The girl shook her head. "No. It's a cutthroat environment… everyone just wants to get more funding and to publish as many papers as possible. But I very much enjoy being in the lab environment… and doing meaningful work, to a degree."
"And… staying as far away from Japan as possible," the Ootori pointed out.
Mari winced at the mention of their homeland. She took another large gulp of the wine.
"Yeah. That too," Mari murmured.
"I heard you have a nephew," he tried to make small talk.
Mari nodded. "Ryu. Born only a few weeks ago. Newest heir to the Takuya empire," she mocked. "Kanda's truly filling in the shoes of being the star first-born."
"So you don't have to?" Kyouya finished off her thought.
"Seems like I still have shoes to fill," Mari sighed. "They expect me to be back some time… at least to see my nephew."
"And your sister is…"
"Yeah, I don't know what she does," Mari rolled her eyes. "Something about being an influencer online… did you know that social media somehow makes you famous? I had no clue. I'm too old for this," she grumbled. "I spend far too much time in the lab, or in the library. All I know is that she's definitely not coming to Harvard for school and that's a blessing."
The Ootori smirked. It took more than just pretty pictures online to get into university, he thought to himself.
"Sorry," Mari sighed. "What about you? How are your siblings?"
He shrugged. "Wouldn't know. Don't care."
She blinked. At least he was relatable. Mari only knew what her sister did because her little sister texted her about suddenly having 2.5 million followers and counting. Kanda sent her pictures of Ryu when he was born. But otherwise, their contact was minimal. None of her siblings or her family would understand what she studied, or even cared to ask how things were going on her end.
"Wait, you're doing an MPH – I thought you were going to med school like your brothers?"
"Why end up as clones of your brothers when you have to set yourself apart?" he quoted her.
Mari narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Wait, I said that?"
Kyouya nodded.
"Huh," Mari nodded to herself. "I didn't think you would take it to heart," she murmured. "I'm glad."
"Glad?" he repeated.
Mari smiled. "Yeah. Break out of that mold that you were expected to fulfill. Be you. Don't let others tell you otherwise. You carve your own path. No one else should have to do it for you."
"Is that what you're doing?" Kyouya wondered.
She thought about it. "Maybe."
"You defied everyone's expectations by coming here," he explained.
Mari laughed. "Everyone's expectations of me were too low to begin with."
"Then why here?"
Mari shook her head. "I guess I just applied to see if I could do it. And I did. I guess I grew up always having low expectations of myself too and then… everything just fell into place. I worked hard enough to achieve everything that I wanted – I suppose no one else saw it that way. The height of my achievements will always be engraved in my piano playing, and never my diligence." She took another sip of the wine.
"Don't discount yourself," he chided.
"I wasn't," Mari smirked. "But the rest of the world seems to."
"I don't," Kyouya firmly replied. "You are intelligent. You've always been."
"I feel like I would argue otherwise," she rolled her eyes. "You certainly didn't think so while we were in Ouran."
He stayed silent for a moment.
"I underestimated you," he admitted quietly.
Mari put her empty glass of wine down. "Thanks," she rolled her eyes.
"It was a mistake," Kyouya continued. "And I've learnt my lesson – it's a good thing I learn quicker than others, no?"
She laughed. A genuine laugh that he swore sounded better than how he remembered it.
"You're still insufferable," was all she could say.
He ran into her again during the first week of classes in the winter term. She held the elevator door open for him as he rushed to get on after his night class. Kyouya preferred taking his classes in the later part of the day – obviously as early mornings were not a good choice for him.
"Are you usually home this late?" Mari casually asked, leaning against the walls of the elevator.
"Yeah. Night class," he huffed. It was cold in Boston. He was still in the middle of trying to warm up. "You?"
"Late night at the lab," she explained. "Rough day, actually."
"Hm," Kyouya nodded. "Sorry to hear."
The elevator dinged at the floor that they both lived on. "It's fine. It's science," she sighed before stepping out of the elevator.
Kyouya watched as she walked to the doors of their respective units. Mari reached for her key and stuck it into the door before the Ootori could say anything,
"Are you busy?"
Mari blinked. "Well, I'd… like to sleep."
"Right," Kyouya awkwardly cleared his throat. "Of course. Good night."
The young woman chuckled. "Was this your way of asking to hang out? At 10:30 PM on a Friday night."
"If you aren't too tired," he offered. His words came out more robotic than intended. Why did he want this anyway?
She tilted her head. "Why? I mean, don't get me wrong – we're friends, I guess?" Mari found it odd to even call what they had friendship. Mari had friends who were only around because of proximity, in the lab or through class. Sometimes she'd show up to their gatherings or house parties. But no one as close as Bryan was to her. It hurt to think about so she continued. "But I still don't see what merit I bring to you for you to keep me around."
Kyouya couldn't answer that question either.
"Sorry, I must sound like such an asshole," Mari sighed. "I owe you a drink. A commoner drink, if you will." They had a drink before their winter break had begun. It was the least she could do – this was probably the nicest she'll ever interact with the Ootori.
"How about my place in… 30 minutes? Get comfortable. Dress code is crimson," she stuck her tongue out before heading into her own unit. "I'll leave the door unlocked, so come whenever."
Crimson, he repeated to himself with a small smile. He could do that.
Mari took a quick shower and changed into her regular pajamas: the crimson Harvard crewneck with a pair of peppered sweatpants. Her contacts were out of her eyes for the day as she let her eyes rest with her glasses. She tied her hair back as she grabbed two beers from her fridge and turned on some music.
She sang and hummed along to the music as she continued making the playlist. Mari heard the door creak open to reveal Kyouya in a matching crewneck sweater with silk pajama bottoms. Mari sighed at the sight of his pants but figured that it was the best he could do as an obnoxiously rich person.
"What?" he narrowed his eyes.
"Dress code is crimson. Well done," Mari gestured for him to sit on her couch. He did as told, taking the craft beer as offered.
"How was your winter break?" she casually asked while popping off the lid of the bottle. Mari sat back and took a swig of her beer. The Ootori eyed the bottle suspiciously and cautiously did the same.
"It was alright," he responded, cringing at the taste of the drink. Mari rolled her eyes.
"It's really not that bad," she sighed. "You'll learn to appreciate beer someday."
"I much prefer wine," Kyouya grumbled. "Did you stay here for the break?"
Mari shook her head. "I actually went over to the UK to check out some schools. And of course… avoiding Japan, as per usual."
"You aren't staying here?" he was surprised to hear her plans. Of course he would be surprised – he never could quite understand Mari. Kyouya was trying his best.
She chuckled. "I'm under good terms with my current supervisor. We've got some progress on a couple projects that he'd like me to stay on for my Master's. But I think I might do my doctorate over in the UK."
"Why not Japan?" Kyouya suggested. He realized it was a dumb suggestion when Mari chuckled at his response.
"I'd like to not go back to where we both came from. I don't think I'm really needed nor wanted." She took another sip of her beer. "I'm really only there for face value, nowadays." He could tell that she hated it all with a passion.
"You won't be able to avoid it forever," he reminded. Sooner or later, Mari would have to come back to Japan. She was born rich, and she would stay in the circles of their families unless they wanted a scandal to taint their reputation.
"I know," Mari sighed. "I never quite understood why you kept bringing up my commoner friends at Ouran until I grew much older," she quietly admitted to herself, more so than to him. "Everything catches up to you."
"Boyfriend couldn't quite handle all the extravagance?" Kyouya made a bold move to bring up a topic that he knew didn't sit well with her. He was curious. She didn't seem to be the sort of person that would hold back in a fight. Mari narrowed her eyes.
"He couldn't handle me," Mari corrected with a sigh. They didn't break up because she was rich. According to him, she would never be as vulnerable as he was. Put as much effort as he did. Or ever loved him as much as he loved her. "Not really the best partner for life, I suppose."
Kyouya took another swig of beer. "A great lab partner though," he offered jokingly.
Mari punched him playfully. "Yeah, that's all I'll ever be, really." She had to laugh as she shook her head at him.
"You'd be a scientist."
"Sure," Mari shrugged. "I like doing what I do. Drug research."
"Lucrative," Kyouya nodded.
"What about you? Still want to be the heir?"
"Why would that ever change?" the third son of the Ootori family shot her a glare.
Mari shrugged. "People change. Grow. Develop other passions. You know? No one ever stays the same."
"Then how have you changed?" Kyouya scoffed.
She thought about the question seriously. More seriously than the Ootori intended the question to be. Mari took a sip of her beer.
"I don't know," she sighed. "According to my ex, I'm not capable of love. Or maybe not in the way he viewed love to be. So who knows, maybe that's what I've become. A monster," she half-joked.
"Oh," the Ootori awkwardly cleared his throat. The conversation turned darker than he had thought.
"Maybe we weren't really raised to love, you know? In our circle, we all just marry for convenience. A business transaction. That's what Kanda and Emi are," Mari murmured. "Now they have a baby… truly, a transaction that cannot be returned."
"You don't have to marry for a transaction," Kyouya pointed out. "Your brother already has."
Mari nodded. "I suppose. Would you marry for love, Kyouya?"
The Ootori took a long swig of the beer. He forced himself to swallow the carbonated wheat. It was basically liquid bread. He tried his best to keep a straight face.
"It could be one of the merits of marriage," he figured.
Mari rolled her eyes. "So, no," she answered for him.
"I would hope that we get along," Kyouya shrugged.
"Really, you'd be alright reducing your wife to some heir-producer?" Her tone told him to tread carefully.
"It's a partnership," Kyouya explained.
"That's all it is…" she shook her head. "Damn, we really grew up in some twisted mentalities."
"Well, would you marry for love?" Kyouya turned the question over to her.
Mari contemplated the thought as she drank from her bottle.
"I wouldn't marry," she coyly answered. Mari always had a thing for breaking rules and expectations. "I don't believe in marriage. Not from what I've seen, anyway."
"Your parents married for love, did they not?"
Mari thought about it. Her family only recently found as much success as they did, probably in the last two decades. As long as Mari had been alive, business had grown immensely. The mansion was bought when she was only a toddler. She had grown up with housekeepers, gardeners, luxury vehicles, and private education for as long as she could remember. Family vacations were taken up until she was a preteen, and then both her parents became too caught up with the business to take any vacations to begin with. It was probably Kanda who still remembered what it was like to live like a middle class family.
"Maybe," she replied. "I don't really know for sure. I guess they did marry for love – we aren't really a family that has been tainted." No rumours of mistresses that were hidden in the shadows. No impending divorces that would call for a ridiculous settlement. No children who had to be hidden away because they brought disgrace to the family.
"Neither is mine," Kyouya pointed out. But he knew for a fact that his parents did not marry for love.
"Hm," Mari shrugged. "Like I said: marriage is overrated."
Kyouya nodded understandably. Mari watched as he drank from the bottle. It would probably take a couple more IPAs to get him to feel better about the whole craft beer scene, but at least it was a start.
"See, you get it," she sighed. "Everyone thinks we're too privileged to have problems, and I suppose that's true. But no one really understands the intricacies of the society we live in."
"You think commoners live a simpler life?" Kyouya raised an eyebrow.
"No," Mari shook her head. "Everyone has problems. We all lead complex lives. Our complexities just happen to be different. Perhaps more frivolous than the regular folk. But still… if I told you to dress the part to an event, you would know not to wear shorts, right?"
Kyouya shot her a glare. As if anyone in their right mind would wear shorts to an event.
"Most people don't get that," Mari pointed out. "High society has all these unspoken rules that we learned to be a regular occurrence when it really isn't. You always seemed to not understand why I hung out with commoners. But imagine if you hadn't met Haruhi – how limited your perspective on the world would be," she explained.
"But by that logic," Kyouya was quick to defend their lifestyle. "Commoners also have a limited perspective on the world for not understanding how we live."
Mari shook her head. "We make up the 1% of the population. The world we live in is just a speck of dust in the midst of what everyone else in the world experiences. So no, their perspective is not limited."
Kyouya sat back on the other end of the sofa in defeat. Mari smirked.
"It's a revelatory experience, you know," she shrugged. "Suddenly being hyper-aware of your privilege and the way we've been raised. You work in healthcare. Learn to develop your business so that it is fully accessible to all classes of society."
"And what will you do?" Kyouya rolled his eyes.
She looked him in the eye and spoke softly, with such determination and intent that it took him off guard. She always took him off guard.
"Stop people from committing suicide."
Mari watched as Kyouya slowly put down his bottle, processing what she had said. It was a dark topic. A serious one that obviously wasn't spoken about enough. It was evident that the Ootori was unsure of how to respond, so Mari didn't let him.
"I mean, that's the overarching plan. Develop drug therapies for mental illnesses," Mari explained. "I can only do what I can. And it's a complex problem with a lot to tackle but… I'm trying to do my part. So do yours in bringing better, more accessible healthcare," she urged.
"I didn't realize this was a ruse to push your agenda onto me," Kyouya pushed up his glasses. Mari rested her frames above her head, rubbing her eyes. It had been a long day in the lab.
"It wasn't intentional but," Mari sighed. "We're in a position to actually do something right in a world that's just so… disappointing."
Kyouya looked at her with wonderment.
"Now you know," she took a sip from her beer as she shrugged. "My hopes and dreams," Mari sarcastically added. "Not that you would care, or that anyone would need to really know."
"Who else knew?" Kyouya pried.
Mari crossed her arms, keeping the bottle close. She shook her head. "No one."
"Your boyfriend?"
"Ex," Mari corrected. "He didn't know. He… he's right though – he never knew me. I was never as vulnerable as he was."
"So why now?" Kyouya narrowed his eyes. "Why be vulnerable now?"
Mari smiled softly. The look in her eyes was apologetic.
"Redemption, maybe," she quietly answered. "I went to the UK but I also spent nearly a whole month by myself, and only myself. I had a lot of thinking to do. Who knows, maybe it's just because I feel comfortable with you. We grew up similarly, after all."
Kyouya nodded. "Well then… I'm glad."
Mari was fiercely independent. A force of her own. Kyouya knew better than to get in her way, especially after all these years. Every time he grew to be more impressed by her will and her aspirations. Truly, he thought she was someone worth watching out for.
What Kyouya could never decide was whether his curiosity was piqued out of professional reasons or… otherwise. The Ootori decided not to dwell on it.
He drank the rest of his beer pretending not to find the taste abhorrent.
"I'm glad we're friends," Mari softly smiled. "Even if it took a long time to get to this stage."
Neither of them attended convocation. Kyouya was too busy back in Japan working for the company. Mari spent her convocation in the lab busy working away, knowing that her family wouldn't bat an eye at the achievement of an undergraduate degree.
They both ran into each other over a year later. Mari had stayed behind immediately for graduate studies. Kyouya had gone back to Japan gain professional experience before continuing on with his own studies. He took note of her first, surprised her change in hair colour.
Mari gave a nod of acknowledgement to him when she recognized him, holding the elevator doors open for him when she watched him wheel in his luggage.
"New hair, new Mari?" he tried joking.
"New hair, new degree," Mari brushed off his comment coolly. "No, I just wanted a change from my usual black hair."
It was cut shorter to her shoulders, the curls reflected the grey-blonde strands nicely under the lighting. She looked happier. Mari flashed him a friendly smile. It was enough for him to look away. He wasn't sure how to respond to it. It had his heart beating faster than downing 3 shots of espresso.
"Japan was good?"
"The usual," Kyouya responded evenly.
"Jetlag must always be a bitch to deal with hm," Mari commented.
"You get used to it."
Mari wordlessly helped him with his luggage when they got off the same floor.
"Let me know if you need anything," she politely left him to his neighbouring unit.
"How about your company when I get up at 4 AM because of jetlag?"
Mari rolled her eyes.
"Your flirting game needs some work since you've retired from the Host Club." Mari stuck her key into the door and left him in the hallway.
Kyouya stood dumbly in front of his own door.
He wasn't trying to flirt. Not intentionally. But… was it really that terrible? The man huffed and lugged his suitcases into his own apartment. His mood soured immediately – with a bruised ego, a lack of caffeine, and too many things on his to-do list that he had to tackle.
There was a knock on her door at 2 AM.
Mari was up late as she prepared for her committee meeting. She had mounds of literature papers strewn across her coffee table, kitchen counter, and sofa. The papers were highlighted, coffee stained, and crinkled. It was typical Mari fashion – her messiness never left her.
She opened the door, obviously annoyed at the intrusion.
It was Hades himself, complete with the glint of his glasses as he held his opened laptop on his arm. Mari huffed and crossed her eyes.
"What the hell?"
"Can you turn down your music?" Kyouya growled.
"What mu—" Mari turned around. "Oh."
Mari liked having background noise as she studied. What she didn't realize was that it was 2 AM and that her love for Beethoven had seeped through the walls more loudly than she had intended.
The grad student grimaced apologetically. "Okay so," she coughed. "I might have an issue trying to find the remote for the speakers because…"
Kyouya peered into her apartment behind her shoulder.
"Your apartment is filthy," he snarled. Kyouya didn't hesitate to express his criticism.
"No," Mari disagreed. "It's just a lot of paper… but it's definitely somewhere under the papers. Aren't you jetlagged anyway? You don't have to sleep."
The Ootori shot her a glare.
"Sorry," Mari sighed. That was an unreasonable request. "I'll find it. Just um, give me… a few minutes." She turned around and left the door open. Naturally, Kyouya stepped in and watched as Mari tried to sort out her papers.
"Oh…" she muttered. "That's where this paper went… huh, I guess I printed two copies."
She was dressed rather pathetically. Her sweatshirt fell past her shoulders, leaving her collarbones exposed. Her hair was tied back in a loose bun with strands that had fallen out. Mari shifted her glasses from the top of her head to her eyes. She was still pretty, even after all these years. Something about her always had him staring, even if he didn't like to admit it.
Kyouya quietly watched as he made himself comfortable. She cleared off the kitchen table from all the articles she had been reading.
"Fucking hell…" Mari grumbled. "It has to be somewhere." She moved over to the couch and began digging through the seats.
Kyouya smirked to himself. It was amusing to him. He waited as Mari circled around the entire apartment cleaning up after herself. She threw piles of articles around as she dug around her apartment for one little metal remote. It was a great speaker system that she had inherited from Kanda. Surround sound around the entire apartment made gatherings and movies a lot more enjoyable.
Mari was obviously distressed when the remote had been in plain sight.
Kyouya had spotted the metal remote from eons away, sitting on the kitchen counter beside the coffee machine – far from all the papers she had been sorting through. He chuckled quietly to himself. He made his way towards her coffee machine. The pitcher was still warm. It was a fresh batch.
He helped himself to a cup of coffee, silently leaning against the counter while Mari groaned. Kyouya reached over to the remote and turned down the music instead, wondering if the young woman would notice.
"How the fuck…" Mari swore underneath her breath for the umpteenth time. She looked around to find the Ootori drinking her coffee that she had brewed.
"Don't you have jet lag?! Why are you drinking my coffee?" Mari accused. "I have my committee meeting in 2 weeks. I need it way more than you do, you prick."
Kyouya coolly poured the coffee into another mug and offered it to her. "You made plenty."
Mari's eyes narrowed at him. "I made plenty because I needed all of it." She made her way over to him and accepted his offer.
"I hate you," she mumbled before taking a sip. It was at the perfect temperature. It gave her just a little bit of bliss in the chaotic world of grad school, and of course, in dealing with her intruder slash neighbour.
"Most people come over at 2 AM for a booty call, you know," Mari rolled her eyes.
Kyouya raised an eyebrow. "Is that what you want?"
Mari sputtered and choked on her coffee. "God no, not with you. You're like, not friends with benefits material."
His ego was wounded for the second time of the night. Not that Kyouya would ever admit that, even to himself.
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah," Mari rolled her eyes. "You're like… you know, good son-in-law material. High earning potential. Great credentials. The kind of boy you'd bring home to spite an ex at their wedding or something, but not a casual relationship."
"What?" Kyouya was flabbergasted. Why was he even offended at this?
Mari raised an eyebrow. "What, as if you're looking for a hookup?"
The Ootori blinked. "Well, does that mean you are?"
Mari laughed. "God, I spend more time in the lab than hooking up. Please, Kyouya. Let's be real."
"T-then why did you bring up the 2 AM comment?" he asked, exasperated by this emotional rollercoaster.
The young woman shrugged. "I was making a joke. American humour, I guess. Perhaps it's too crude for your pompous ass." Mari had to laugh at his discomfort.
"What?" he shot her a glare.
"You just… are so uncomfortable," Mari pointed out. "It's so out of character for you."
Kyouya put down his mug and leaned closer to her. He placed his arms on the counter trapping Mari against the granite. She leaned back and narrowed her eyes.
"Is this supposed to make me feel uncomfortable?" Mari scoffed. "Please, I can play this game too." She placed a hand against his chest and leaned towards his face. She became dangerously close, so close that Kyouya could smell the coffee on her breath and the sweet tangerine scent of her tied up hair. She narrowly missed his lips to whisper something in his ear.
"If you're thinking of making a move, this really isn't how I would do it," she teased. She gently pushed him away from her with only one hand, the other gripping her mug steadily. Mari smirked at him.
"Bit rusty since the Host Club, aren't you?"
Kyouya huffed and picked up his mug again.
"Where'd you learn that?" his voice low.
Mari shrugged. "Where do you think?"
The Ootori took a sip of her coffee. "I see you've been… busy."
"Yes, with grad school," the woman shot back. "Not sure what you're trying to insinuate here."
"You know exactly what I'm insinuating," Kyouya rolled his eyes.
"Does that make you think any less of me?" Mari raised an eyebrow at him. "Because I'm pretty sure I had the upper hand back there."
Kyouya only sipped his coffee, refusing to comment.
"I mean, I'm sure plenty of girls would love to be with you while you are back in Japan," Mari offered. "Yet none can tame Hades, can they?"
The Ootori tilted his head.
"Mari, are you flirting with me?" he half-accused. She shrugged.
"I'm sleep deprived and I haven't had any fun for the past few weeks – so yeah, allow me to squeeze just a bit of amusement out of my friend from high school."
"Amusement?"
The girl gave a coy smile. "Don't lie. Your ego is bruised as hell right now."
He crossed his arms and frowned at her. Mari took that as a yes.
"Hey, it's fine," she laughed. "You're here for a while. Go out. Have some fun. I'm surprised you aren't engaged yet, to be honest."
"As if you'd know," he grumbled. "You haven't been back in years."
"I don't have to go back to keep tabs on the Ootori family," Mari pointed out. "News in our high society circles travels fast."
"Fair," Kyouya nodded. "But this is what you consider fun?"
He swiftly reached down to her lips, pulling her closer by the waist. He was trying to prove a point. Mari smiled into the kiss and pulled away first. He chased after her lips, quickly closing the gap again. He craved her, he had unwittingly been deprived of her after all these years.
"Okay," Mari nodded. "Good move," she admitted. "Sorry I doubted that you actually had the guts to make a move."
"I wasn't aware that you wanted me to make one," Kyouya murmured, his hands rested around her waist naturally. She leaned against the counter, her hand still holding onto her mug. She looked up at him as she relaxed at his touch.
"I didn't," Mari laughed. "But you're surprisingly good at kissing."
His ego was bruised for the third time that night.
It began as a means of proving a point.
But a part of him had to admit, she became the highlight of his day.
Knocking on his door, he already knew it was her. Mari held up a bottle of wine, the maroon colour of her sweater dress matching the label of the alcohol. Her eyes were accentuated by a new frame of glasses. Kyouya could hear her heels through the hallway.
"Committee meeting went well?"
"Could've been worse," Mari responded, slipping around him to go into his apartment. She unzipped her knee-high boots and made herself comfortable in the kitchen. She stretched to grab the wine glasses off the shelves of the cupboard. Kyouya had one arm on her waist as he easily got the other wine glass off the shelf for her.
"Thanks," she murmured. "But I wasn't really planning to share," Mari joked.
He turned her around by the waist to face him. Her eyes widened before she cracked a smile up at him. The Ootori was smoother than she thought he was.
"This is my apartment," he reminded. "I set the rules."
She shrugged, unfazed by his low voice. The dark lipstick became more of a distraction to him than he thought. He wanted to run his hand through her dyed hair. It was neatly placed in a bun, complemented by diamond studs on her ears. "But I brought the wine."
It was good wine too. Imported from Italy, aged for half a century. While Mari preferred beer, she knew what good wine was meant to be like. She figured he would appreciate the bottle, much more than she would anyway.
"Corkscrew?" she asked.
Kyouya opened a drawer next to them and handed over the tool. Her long fingers grazed his own, lingering for a moment. Mari opened the bottle with ease, the pop of the corkscrew itself was heard across the entire unit. She poured for the both of them and handed him a glass.
"How were your first few weeks of class?"
The Ootori shrugged. "Same old."
"Aren't you supposed to have at least 5 years of work experience to even get into this program?"
"Even more impressive that I'm here then, isn't it?" Kyouya pointed out.
Mari sighed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. The degree is just another piece of paper for you, anyway." He could pay for as much as it costed and probably ten times over. With his lineage and family business, it was no wonder that he ended up here.
"What about your degree?"
The grad student blinked. "I probably have to work ten times harder than you do to get one data set to be reproducible. So, ultimately, I would argue that my degree is more valuable than yours."
Kyouya sipped the wine and nodded.
"What?" Mari was expecting a comeback.
"I agree," he shrugged. "Research is more difficult than writing a few papers and sitting in a few lectures to get the required number of credits."
Mari blinked before clinking her glass with his. "You're not as insufferable as you used to be."
She smiled at him and he immediately lost his train of thought. He wanted to blame it on the alcohol. Or on the jetlag after being back for two weeks. Kyouya carefully placed his own glass on the kitchen island.
"What are you doing?" Mari leaned back when he took a few steps forward.
"I'm not sure," he whispered. His large hands slowly cupped her jaw while the other carefully placed the wine glass aside on the counter. He swiftly reached down to her dark red lips, as soft and supple as he had remembered them from a few weeks ago.
He felt her hesitation.
It was purely physical, Mari thought to herself. He wasn't here for any commitments – she wasn't the kind of girl he could ever bring home. Mari on the other hand, was far from someone who needed to be in a relationship.
"Fuck it," she muttered under her breath when he pulled away slightly. Her hand was quick to pull him back down hungrily.
