She's torn away from the pleasant hum of her daydreams and it feels like someone woke her up after she had just fallen asleep. Someone's calling her name — she's not actually back in her room, like she is in her head.
No. She's in school. And her poor friend is trying to talk to her, when she is currently not on Earth.
"Earth to Akane!" Sayuri says, waving her hand in front of her face. "Did you hear me?"
She smiles awkwardly, placing her palms on her warming cheeks. "No, sorry…" she says quietly, leaning back in her seat. "I, uh…"
How can I ever even begin to explain this?!
"How. Do. You. Think. You. Did. On. The. Test?" Sayuri makes sure to enunciate every syllable, and it hurts her fantasies. She wants to drown in her mind again… she'd rather live there for now, instead of answering questions.
When exactly did she stop caring about exams? Last night, probably…
She blinks slowly and laces her fingers together in front of her. "Good, I think."
"You seem really confident…" Yuka says, clearly distressed. "Give me your brain, Akane!"
You can have it, she almost says. And then, nevermind, I don't want you to see what's all mine.
Last night has been replaying in her head nonstop. Her body remembers it the most — there's this heaviness to her, a pleasant kind that she's never felt before. Like some kind of… warmth. A certain kind of satisfaction.
Shock. Awe. Adoration. Excitement.
The butterflies explode in her stomach again. The heat of his mouth flutters over her skin still, even when he's not on it.
Too beautiful.
A slow strike of lighting ignites every layer of her. Something's gotta give… she can't live like this, no matter how nice it is, staying in Lala Land.
"You look different today, Akane," Sayuri says with a tilt of her head. "Like… I don't know. You're not your usual self."
If she had the energy — the will to react, she'd sound just like her usual self. But that part of her is sleeping safe and sound somewhere. She can't tell if this is a good thing or not, or even if she cares enough to worry.
She shrugs at her friends, an easy smile taking over her face. "I dunno… just one of those days, y'know?"
Yuka drags her desk closer to hers and sits, taking out her lunch. "Yeah, I feel that. It's not really a bad thing."
"Mhm," Sayuri agrees. "You look happier. Almost dopey."
Akane giggles at the word. Is that what she is? Is this what it's like to get high? She takes out her bento and carefully opens it. "I think I might be sleep deprived."
"Funny. You're usually cranky when you don't sleep enough," Sayuri says with the raise of her brow, one that could be suggestive. Like maybe she might have an idea of what happened…
Akane snorts and shakes her head. "No, I swear!"
"Swear what?" Hiroshi says, pulling his desk to their makeshift table.
"None of your business," she says, sticking her tongue out playfully.
Daisuke pokes her arm lightly. "Wow, Akane, you really did get better at cooking, didn't you?"
She smiles, taking in the compliment. It feels so nice to be recognized for her hard work, no matter how small! "Why, thank you."
She shifts her gaze and reality slips away again.
Because she remembers, again — she remembers whose stare she felt all morning.
And now it's on her. Full force. It's like a dagger through her chest, but she finds that she doesn't mind the pressure of it, even though she's already squirming in her seat.
He's sitting right across from her, arms crossed over his chest, no trace of amusement in his eyes. She can't say what it is that makes him look dangerous — maybe it's his brows, lowered and touching his lids. Or the way his pupils are bigger than normal.
It's all they still haven't done. Still haven't said. It's in the silence between them, that's what comes to mind. One look and it's already dragging the ugly parts out of her, while taming it all the same. He puts her in a limbo and she allows it.
The hunger is in the air between them, and it's potent in the second it takes to register that he's there. Still looking kind despite the emotion they both hide.
Their friends talk next to them, and she makes an effort to join, she does — she laughs at the right times, makes the right gestures. And he does as well, every motion he makes somehow radiating heat to her.
So when she hears her name again, it doesn't register right away. When it does, her heart nearly breaks itself against her ribcage.
"Right, 'kane?" he says softly, because she knows he knows she's not listening — how can he be so put together? Why is she failing to stay here?
"R-right," she stammers, shoving a bite of her food into her mouth. He follows it with his eyes, and the look lingers on her lips.
He crosses his arms behind his neck leans back, looking more smug than he deserves to be — am I that obvious? There's an argument building inside of her, then. Maybe she just needed him to spark her fire today, in more ways than one. She narrows her eyes at him slightly, reminding him without words that he doesn't have the upperhand here.
But do I?
Maybe not — but she can always pretend.
She doesn't miss the way he gulps, and she knows his mishap last night has come back to haunt him. He can choke on his ego and his pride for all I care.
As long as you come back to me.
That helpless look in his eyes… she goes soft. I won't let you feel bad about yourself.
There's conversation dying in sound around them, but there's a louder one in the silence of their stares. They talk like this a lot, refusing to acknowledge how well they understand each other, and it baffles her, suddenly.
He lowers his arms, hooking them behind his seat, his chest and shoulders looking broader than before. In a way that looks too good, and a noise almost escapes her, and oh, remember last night, when he made you make a lot of brand new noises?
And then she dies as his eyes, his freezer burn eyes, rake down to her chest.
As they linger.
Back up again.
To her face, frozen from the flames crack, crack, crackling in her heartbeat.
And the heaviness — the weight of how beautiful he makes her feel, it settles in deeper.
His brows twitch. Her stomach flips. His eyes grow darker, softer. Her center aches.
A smirk stretches his lips, like he can't hold it back, and it simmers whatever is inside of her. He's so proud to have caught her off guard, to control her like this, as much as she hates to admit it.
It's just the truth.
Maybe she won't deny it this time. Maybe they'll get to the point where they don't have to anymore — what a dangerous thing to hope for.
But as he winks before turning the other way and playing his part, his foot nudges hers beneath the table. It's subtle and practically nothing but just his warmth is enough to have her think:
I want more, Ranma. I want you.
"Look at her go… damn."
"That's what I'm sayin'. She looks cuter than usual today, doesn't she?"
"Yeah." Hiroshi whistles. "I'd love to get a piece of that."
The degenerate conversion his idiot friends were having only just started to register in his brain. He's too busy watching her, her movements as close to graceful as he's ever seen them — but her brute strength always had a kind of grace to them, doesn't it?
Maybe he's just being too nice to her now, even if it's just nice thoughts that he's having. He can always blame her for making him soft.
And hard.
He should stop oogling her now before he really has a problem.
But even if he did… he'd still be thinking about last night. And the fact that she's a few feet away, in her leotard on the balance beam, standing tall and proud as she walks down the length of it.
Yeah. He's staring again. So what?
"Her ass looks good," Daisuke says beside him. Whoever the hell he's talking about, he doesn't care for.
Hiroshi laughs. "Doesn't it always?"
He fidgets from his spot on the gym floor. She twirls around on one foot at the end of the beam, smiling down at a girlfriend. She lowers her arms and the light from the windows seems to surround her. It fills the space between the crooks of her elbows and her tiny waist. It washes over her wider hips and silky legs, around her head like a halo…
Angelic.
He cringes as his blood rushes down. All he wants to do is just take her away and feel that soft goddamn skin of hers goddammit Akane what the fuck are you doing to me?!
"Did her tits get bigger, or is it just me?"
"Hmm… Ranma, whaddaya think?"
There's an elbow jamming into his arm and it tears him away from what was about to be drooling. His friends stare at him, matching smiles on their faces.
He rolls his eyes. "Not interested."
Hiroshi shakes him a bit. "Aww, c'mon!"
Daisuke snickers. "You should know your own fiancée's body, right?"
His mind cracks like broken glass.
"...What?"
He says it quietly. Too calm to actually be calm.
He should get himself together.
"Akane's rack looks great today, don't you think?"
Are they fucking with me.
But he's having a real hard time doing so.
It's like lava bubbling in his chest. Thick and slow, spreading all over his insides. His brain and his body screaming, mine mine mine mine MINE.
They were talking about her this whole time, and he didn't even realize?
He shuts his eyes for a moment and smiles. "What about her rack?" He makes sure to really enunciate the word, even though his chest burns as he says it.
"Woah. Aren't you proud of havin' a fiancée like that?"
"Can't we just look, bro? No harm in looking…"
"I can't believe how sexy she looks…"
"I'd sure love to get with th—"
He stands and towers over them, flames surrounding him. "Watch your fucking mouths."
But all he gets as a response is laughter.
Fuck, I shoulda known…
"Honestly!" he cries, throwing his arms up in the air. "What the hell was that for?!"
His friends giggle and exchange glances. They're probably bigger gossips than the girls…
"Where's your, 'she's so uncute!'" Hiroshi says, mocking him with a high-pitched voice that does not sound like him.
"W-w-what?" He despises the blush rising to his cheeks. "I don't sound like that!"
"Yeaaaah, you kinda do," Daisuke smirks, his eyes shifting behind him before going wide. He whistles. "Damn."
He growls, taking a step closer. "Stop looking!"
"Why? Not doing anything wrong…"
He can't… he can't control all the emotions welling up inside. It's bubbling and bursting and it goes:
"SHE'S MINE! QUIT FUCKING LOOKING AT HER!"
Immediately, the shock at what comes out of his own mouth strikes him and he whips around afraid, and the first thing he catches is her eyes.
The second thing he catches is her.
Because he threw her off balance and before she could reach the ground and hurt herself again, he's beneath her and scooping her into his arms, the way he secretly always liked to.
Like my bride.
He might actually die from the embarrassment.
"Ranma!" she gasps, arms locked around his neck.
He forces his face to go dead straight despite the fact that his cheeks are burning up right now. Think of something!
"Let's get your leg checked out. I'll take you to the nurse," he says loud and clear, just so everyone knows.
Nice one.
"N-no, I-I think I'm fine…" she says lowly, and he shakes her lightly, giving her a freaking warning to play along.
Akane, if you care at all, you wouldn't embarrass the both of us right now! He tells her this with his eyes as he feels everyone else's burning into them. No doubt they're going to be talking nonstop about this… performance today.
She blinks, the lightbulb turning on in her head. She lifts her leg slightly and hisses. "Ah, it does hurt! Maybe I sprained it…"
Murmurs circle them. "Alright, ya klutz, let's go before you sprain somethin' else!"
She tugs on his ear and his head stretches very uncomfortably to the side. "Ouch!"
"Hmph!" She turns her nose in the air as he twitches his brow in irritation.
It's too bad she actually looks so damn adorable right now.
"Outta the way!" he calls to their classmates as he makes his way out of the gym and into the empty hall.
He walks down it and turns the corner, only then bothering to look at her. He finds her glancing at him from the corner of her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips.
"What?" he yaps, ready to fight if she says a word about—
"Oh, nothing…" she says, leaning her head on his cheek and oh, he is not handling this well.
"Then s-stop lookin' at me like that, alright? I helped ya out!"
She raises a brow and then her voice. "No, Ranma, I helped you."
He bites his tongue because he doesn't have enough of a brain to refute that.
She hugs him just a bit tighter, and so do his pants. "But I don't mind…" she says softly, her breath fanning over his cheek.
Oh, shit.
But then she retracts herself from him, her face level with his. "Even though I could've actually broken a bone! Why can't you ever get a hold of yourself?"
It's like there's smoke around his head. God, she's so irritating! "It's not my fault you can't keep your balance! Why the hell are you blaming it on me?"
"Because!" She huffs her cheeks. Why is that so fucking cute?! "You can't just say things like that! It's so embarrassing!"
He scrunches his face up. "Oh, yeah? And you're not embarrassing?"
She gasps. "How am I embarrassing?!"
He scoffs. "I shoulda let you fall… would've taken the attention offa me…"
He's done it now. She pounds his shoulder and then his chest. "Jerk! Let me down right now!"
Now she's flailing — holy shit, why does she always react like this?
'Cause you bring it outta her, jackass.
He holds her tighter to his body, crushing her knees together and shoulder to him as she continues to hit him. "Hey! Cut it out! I'm not putting you down!"
Even though she's still angry, there's this sound in her voice he can't exactly name. "Why?"
Hope?
"You're not wearin' shoes. Do you really wanna walk all over the dirty ass floor?" he says in her face, watching her shrink back against his shoulder. "Yeah, didn't think so."
She grabs the front of his grey gym shirt, tugging at the collar. Pouting. I shouldn't be this soft for her. For anyone. "You don't have to be such a jerk about it…"
He looks at her, frowning slightly. She's so… sad.
He walks further down the hall and finds an empty classroom. He turns the knob and sits in a seat in the back corner, where no one could see them through the window. He keeps her on his lap.
"Don't get your feelings hurt so easy by me, 'kane," he says low, his face inches away from hers. She still won't look at him from her place on his shoulder. Her hands fall to the middle of his chest, limp.
"Hey," he whispers, bumping the tip of his nose against her hair. "Look at me?"
It takes a moment, but she does, her sweet brown eyes big and making him all mushy on the inside. She pouts with her pretty pink lips. "You just confuse me, Ranma…"
He frowns even deeper than before. "Y'know, a lot of the things I say… I don't mean it, Akane."
His honesty must feel as good for her as it does for him — she sighs and smiles slightly, flattening a hand against his chest. "Really?"
He nods, soaking in the feeling of her palm sliding up his neck, onto his cheek. "Really," he mumbles.
Her dainty fingers cup the side of his face, her thumb stroking the skin above his jawline. Their eyes sink lower as she leans in and plants a gentle, full kiss right beside the corner of his mouth. His lips twitch with the need to cover hers.
Slowly, she lets it go, her warmth still tingling his skin. "Thank you for always catching me," she whispers.
He nods dumbly, gulping. Trying so hard not to give away how much he's melting.
But then he realizes — what am I so afraid of?
He blinks slowly, trying to come back to his senses. She's waiting patiently for him to meet her in the middle.
He pulls the arm underneath her knees out, letting her legs curl around his thigh. He keeps her gaze on his, so intent like earlier today, when he was teasing her, and when she teased him right back. God, she's so much fun. I love playing around with her. Every argument with her is just foreplay, isn't it? It always gets his blood rushing, gets his temperature up like nothing else.
He slides his hand up her leg nice and slow, his other arm snaking around her waist. He cups his palm around her hip, fingertips pressing into her thigh, into her ass and his other hand tucked onto her stomach. She leans in and he squeezes her close, her arms back around his neck and chest pressing onto his.
The look she's giving him… it's like she's helpless for him.
"Ranma," she breathes, quiet. He leans in.
They stay.
This is the part where something, someone breaks them apart. Where the moment gets violently killed by some external factor that's wildly out of their control.
But he can't bring himself to close the moment. He can't bring himself to move forward, in every sense of the word.
He's done more intimate things with her. Shared such great moments of his life with her, talked to her about things he's never told anyone. And last night, he saw her half-naked body and had her in his mouth.
And yet.
How can I?
It'd be perfect if he wasn't so afraid.
And judging by the look that's flickering in her eyes, she seems to feel it, too.
They both sigh in relief, sinking into each other. He rests his cheek on top of her head and loosens his grip.
"...I get it," she says, cupping the back of his neck and squeezing. It sends tingles up his scalp and down his spine.
He rubs her stomach and then finds the dip of her waist. He squeezes her there and smiles as she shivers. "I know."
There's so much. Too much that we don't understand.
But for right now, for what feels like the first time, or just the first time he'll admit it to himself: he feels like they're the same.
He smirks. "But don't think I won't keep my word."
Her cheeks go up in flames and he laughs.
