Two weeks had gone by in a flash at that point. Fakir and I spent most of the time in each other's company, enjoying the late night discussions. His lips against mine as night weaned into day and the soft cracking voices we kept for each other's ears only. The end of spring break was upon us. I linger closer against the walls of the ballet room, dancing through my routine once more, just to make sure I remembered it and had perfected it. Fakir watches from the sidelines just to make sure my form is correct and I don't hurt myself. Bandages wound around my ankles from missteps and minor injuries I caused myself. As I stand on my feet again, I reenter my reality and smile. Fakir smiles back, extending his hand to lead me back into the house, though I pull him towards the weaning daylight outside.
"I want to go stargazing in those woods." I firmly declare, pulling him into the bright green plains. Fakir hesitates though as I pull his eyes towards the sky, I watch it light up. "It'd be nice, just the two of us, watching the night sky pass by us. Don't you think?"
He shrugs, pulling his fingers through into the empty divots between my fingers. "Could be." He pulls back the long strands of dark hair, adjusting his ponytail with his free hand. "You're not scared of bears, are you?"
"I'm not scared of anything!" I grunt.
"You're scared of butterflies."
"Am not!"
"Right, it's moths you're scared of." He leads us both back inside for supper. I groan and roll my eyes, butting my head lightly into his side and loudly moaning at him. Fakir huffs a loud sigh and pulls me off of him as he ascends the stairs to our bedrooms, ordering me to stay down. I listen, a bit begrudgingly as I kick my legs back and forth against the couch. Mytho steps out from the kitchen, holding a glass filled halfway up with wine, though on his breath there's the thick aroma of previous drinks. He doesn't seem belligerent or angry, instead more merry and jovial.
"Ducky! I'm so glad you're here! I wanted to talk to you for a moment," He sidles beside me, setting his glass down on the small side table beside us, his arm pleasantly wrapping over my shoulder. It feels warm and parental as it usually does, and I cuddle into him comfortably.
"Oh! Yeah, what's going on Mytho?" I grin up at him as he cuddles me closer, kissing the top of my head.
"So, you and Fakir are getting closer now. Spending long nights together, not hating each other, the works." He starts stroking my hair affectionately, and I watch as Rue enters as well. She doesn't seem to have been drinking as much as Mytho, though she seems just as jovial. "When are you going to say it to him?"
I quirk my eyebrow, a tad puzzled. "Say what?"
"That you love him, darling!" Rue says brightly as Mytho takes a long sip of the strong smelling wine. My face burns brighter than a torch as I throw my hands up, shaking my head furiously.
"Oh God, I don't think I could ever do that! That's way too far, I mean we've only been together for these couple weeks."
"So you admit you've been together?" Mytho perks up, squeezing my shoulder as Rue smiles even wider.
"We've been hanging out! I misspoke! We aren't dating or anything yet!" I try restlessly to defend myself, though I can see they're set in the assumption. I whimper to myself awkwardly as they begin drunkenly chanting over our presumed relationship, nervously hiding my face in the crook of Mytho's arm. I hear the sound of footsteps down the stairs and bolt upright. "I'll talk to you guys later, I'm going for a late night picnic!"
Rue takes another sip of wine and calls out after me something about using protection. I can't really bother myself to understand, lest I become red in the face. Fakir takes the last step down the stairs with the large duvet covers of both our beds in one arm, and two dark pillows in the other. I beam up at him, taking one of the large blankets over my shoulder, covering my entire body. Fakir rolls his eyes as we make our way out into the open space. The cool and enchanting breeze of the springtide night whisps through our hair as we walk together in silence, enjoying the sky as it turns from a pale blue into the light pinks and oranges, painting plump and fluffy clouds those candyfloss shades of pink and purple. We wiggle through the countless evergreens and spruces until we find the perfect little opening beneath the trees. Fakir lays out both duvets, one atop the other, and the pillows in between. I sit down and snuggle into our makeshift bed, staring up at the glittering stars that are just starting to peek out from beneath the blue. He lays himself down next to me, above the comfortable and warm covers, arms crossed under his dark locks.
I curl a bit closer to him, wrapping my arm underneath his own, staring up as the sky continues the metamorphosize into its new dark tinted palette. Fakir doesn't seem to mind, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. The stars continue to twinkle and dance, dazzling us both under their reign of glistening comfort.
"You know," I nervously swallow, recalling a fuzzy memory. "When I was really little, my mom took me out to see the stars once. It was amazing back then. We were out in the field, I remember her saying to me, 'Aniela, you see how all those stars? Some of them have names, like you and me.'" I pause for a moment thinking it over, my brows furrowing. "I wonder what she meant by that. Maybe she was just spewing facts like she usually did." I feel Fakir pull me a bit closer into his arms.
"You said it again." Fakir strokes my hair. "Was that your mother's nickname for you? Aniela?" I feel my face turn pale as I realize what I've said.
"Well, no. Not exactly." I try and avoid it, pointing to one of the stars. "L-look! That's Leonis, part of the Leo constellation," I smile, hoping to distract him. He doesn't take the bait.
"Why did she call you that then?" He's more stern and firm now, his fingers climbing through my hair. He's not going to pull it, is he?
"That was just what my mom called me."
"Why would she call you that then?"
"It's my name, okay?" I blurt, leaving us both in the echoing silence of the night. My heart is pounding and my entire body is now dripping with sweat underneath the heat of the blanket and my shame. We both just lay together, not looking at one another for a second, not speaking, watching the stars pass above our heads. It feels like hours before I finally speak up again. "I'm still just Ahiru, you know?"
"That's not your real name." Fakir doesn't look at me as he speaks. I throw my blankets off, sitting upright and glaring down at him.
"Just because it's not the name I was born with doesn't change the fact I'm still Ahiru. That's been my name for the past fourteen years, so I'm Ahiru now."
"I'm still going to call you Ahiru. That's not the problem. Why did your name change when you were that young?"
"It was something that had to do with ducks when I was a kid." Half the truth, half me wanting to drop the subject. My name shouldn't be that important. "I just want to be Ahiru now. That's the end of it."
"You always get so defensive." He groans, sitting up and towering above me. "You say that I put up walls, but you're no better. You've been hiding more than I have, and for what?" I lurch back an inch, watching him get in my face. "What do you have to be scared of anymore?"
For once, I don't really have an answer; I don't know what I have to be scared of anymore. There's the obvious, like Wayland and Victor. But what else could there really be? Getting close to people? Being loved? What was it that truly petrified me? Why was this little, insignificant piece of information so harrowing for me to tell anyone? I feel bile starting to rumble in my stomach, though I know nothing will come up. I hadn't eaten enough to supply me with vomit. Instead, fear pools into my lungs as I drown in the intense anxiety I have. The answer sputters out, hesitant and shaky.
"I… I don't know." I sit on the blanket again, realizing I had been halfway off of it. Fakir softens again, pulling me close into his grasp. We're quiet once again, watching the crescent moon start her path over the little patch of sky we can see. Glinting and glowing above her kingdom of shimmering stars.
The cool spring breeze turns cold, and I pull the large duvet over both of us, cuddling up closely. I will admit, the air between us is a fair bit awkward, though it is comforting there with him. Fakir strokes my hair free of my braid once again, letting all my hair loose. I let loose a long and rather loud sigh.
"I'm sorry I get like this."
"It's no trouble. I just want you to be honest in this relationship." My heart pounds as the words leave his lips and my cheeks flush, not that either of us could see it in the dead of night.
"Relationship?" My hands reach up to his shirt, as my face buries into the pillow below me.
"Well, if you want it to be, then I would prefer we call it by that. Unless you were hoping to just keep everything casual." Fakir shrugs his shoulders. I quickly object and squeeze into him tighter.
"No no! I definitely want to, I'm just worried about… You know, if anyone were to find out." My hands fumble with his shirt even more, my heart beating so hard that I know he can feel it against him. He strokes my hair even more, shrugging.
"We can cross that bridge when we get to it, don't you think?" Fakir seems so lackadaisical about it, and while it should be comforting, it only causes more anxiety to start boiling further into my skin. But I leave it, only nodding. I need to silence that anxiety for now. I'll cross that bridge when I get to it, right?
Fakir places his hand behind my head, resting me entirely on my back, facing him as he smiles from above me. The cold air starts to nip at my bare arms and I shiver, yearning for the warmth I felt mere moments ago. Fakir takes a moment, before laying entirely on top of me and bringing the duvet with him. His hands reach under my skirt, feeling the soft skin of his fingers as they rub against me. I shiver again, this time because of the warmth now rising between my thighs as I feel my underwear being slipped down. Fakir looks at me, asking if I'm okay, and I agree. I'm more than okay at this moment. He begins kissing me, his fingers already deep inside as his thumb teases my clit, making me insatiably tingly. His tongue flickers inside my mouth as I try and keep time with it.
Fakir pulls away from our kiss, climbing below the covers to where I can't see him. Though I feel him from underneath working his tongue like he had done before. Gently and with rhythm that makes my knees quake with exhilaration. I rock my hips back and forth against his rhythm, quaking as he keeps going. I lean my hips into it a little more, feeling him lean in more as well. His hands are firmly planted on my hips as he pulls away. Instead pulling out his cock and leaning above me. In the moonlight his flushed cheeks look far more intense.
"Would you object to going any further?" Fakir pants, one hand stroking the full length of his pulsing cock against me as the other while the other is wrapped under my neck. My face brightens, cheeks red as a tomato as I shrug.
"Go right ahead," The words seem so natural as they spill from my lips. I prepare myself for the pain of it, for the uncomfortable snap of my hymen. Though it goes in smoothly, pleasantly even. The pressure as he's all the way inside of me feels wonderful even as Fakir smiles down at me, my gaping mouth indicating to him how good it feels.
That's when he starts moving his hips, and I can't help but whimper into his shoulder. Pulling back and forth inside, it feels even more euphoric than I could have imagined. It doesn't hurt, and it doesn't feel wrong or bad. Fakir continues to pump his hips back and forth, listening to both of our breathy moans into each other's shoulders. His free hand now latched to my hip again, grinding me very lightly against him. Watching him get more and more into it only leads to me doing the same. We lay beneath the stars for minutes, still grinding and pumping against one another, listening to the muffled moans of each other. Finally I watch Fakir pull up, passionately kissing me, both his arms curled beneath my head as he pulls out, something hot spurting onto my stomach. I don't particularly mind however, as the kiss becomes more breathy and affectionate.
I get a small glance of Fakir as I pull away, combing my fingers through his hair as he collapses on top of me, sandwiching us both together under the blankets, the stars, and the rather gross sticky puddle Fakir made. But it still feels nice just to be here with him. I stare up at the stars, a new memory made and cherished dearly.
As he finally pulls back, cleaning up the spillage with one of the ends of the duvets, I ask. "So, that's sex?"
Fakir quirks an eyebrow, nodding very slowly. "Yeah, were you expecting something else?" He kisses my cheek affectionately as I shake my head.
"Yes. Well, no. Mm, not really? I expected it to hurt more, I guess." I shrug, avoiding the cold, wet parts of the blanket as I curl underneath them again.
"Sex isn't supposed to hurt. But I am glad it was pleasurable for both of us." Fakir wraps his arms over me, pulling me into his orbit of comfort.
"What was your first time like?" I blurt out, not even really registering in my mind what I said fully. Fakir doesn't seem phased at the question, however.
"Eh, it was boring. I was eighteen and my girlfriend at the time just wanted to do it. So we did. Condom on and everything. It was fine, just very boring, neither of us really enjoyed it." He nuzzles me into the crook of his neck, pulling his clothes back on. I follow his lead and snicker.
"So what you're saying is, it's better with me."
"Of course it's better with you. It's with you," He smiles, rewrapping me in his arms as my clothes are suitably on. As my face starts to glow, I turn my attention towards the cloud dusted sky. No longer do stars speckle the expansive atmosphere of the sky, instead only minor freckles of stars peeked through the darkening clouds. I huff a bit at the treason of the clouds, internally cursing them.
Though my curse only backfires, as rain droplets begin slowly starting to drip into our makeshift bed. Then more droplets, and more, until we finally realized we have to leave. Practically pouring rain, we dash into a thicker set of the woods to keep ourselves dry. Fakir managed to save one blanket, but the other was completely soaked. Neither of the pillows survived their watery demise, but neither of us seem to care as we rest against a tree. We drip with rain and sweat and our clothes cling to us so tightly it feels like circulation may be lost. I clutch the dripping pillows under my arms as Fakir holds onto the blankets, laughing jovially. I join in. What an awful time for rain, what a terrible place to be. But what a lovely person to be with. The rumble of thunder beckons us back to the house, lest we get caught in a thunderstorm in the middle of a forest.
As we make our final sprint towards the house, doing our absolute best to keep everything as dry as possible, I can see Mytho and Rue laughing and smiling at us through the window. Making it to the backdoor, both of us are greeted by the warm air inside, and the helpful arms of Mytho and Rue yearnus into comfortable towels. So fluffy and warm, I realize. They must have been prepping them close to the fireplace in the living room.
Drying off my hair and the rest of my shivering body is a bit of a challenge, though I can hear Mytho's urgent request for us to take a hot shower or a bath. That should just about do the trick for both of us, as we make our way up towards our rooms, converging into mine, since my bathtub was the bigger of the two rooms. Fakir starts disrobing and I do the same, staring at the long scar down his chest. My eye is still drawn to it, still feeling guilty for causing it. As soon as we're both naked and the water is steaming, I slip in. My skin feels like it's melting off a layer of ice, burning me intensely, though it's almost soothing in its heat. I beckon Fakir in as well, watching him slip beneath the sudsy water, going through the same emotions I did as the water scorches his skin, only to practically vacuum him into its grasp. I smile as I sink just far enough below the waterline to where you could just see above my nose. He reaches out from the side of the pristine white tub, starting to lather himself in soap.
"You're probably dirty still. You might need to clean up as well." He hands over the small bottle of iridescent pink liquid, and I reach up from below the suds, grasping onto it.
"What if I want to stay dirty?" I tease, moving the bottle from one hand to the other, sliding it in my fingers ever so smoothly. Fakir rolls his eyes, stretching out his legs as he becomes more comfortable.
"Then I'll have to clean you, if you decide to still be a petulant child."
The color in my cheeks finally rises a shade of pink that transcends color, as I Fakir begins laughing. I quickly begin lathering myself in soap from head to toe, washing myself as quickly as possible. As soon as I feel sufficiently clean, I hop out of the bath and wrap myself tightly in a towel. Within a few minutes of drying off, I hear Fakir pull the bath plug and the water begin to drain. I pull on a long and conservative nightgown, hiding the thin frame I have from him. Though, at this point, he's seen me completely nude, so it shouldn't matter, should it?
"You're adorable when you're nervous," Fakir's wet hands hold onto my hips from behind, catching me off guard. I turn my head to face him and notice that he's smiling, a bright and vibrant smile that I remember so clearly. I stand on my toes, starting to lean up towards him for a kiss. And as our lips meet, I feel his wet hands run through my silky hair, pulling through it easily as he lifts me up, pulling away from our kiss to place me down on the bed. As he sets me down fully, I watch him pull a towel over his hips, heading back into the bathroom. I lay flat on the bed, unsure what he's going to do. Are we going to make love again? Maybe he needs condoms. Maybe there's something he left in the bathroom that he needs for sex.
Anxiety continues to brew in my brain until I see him standing over me with a hairbrush, beckoning me to sit up so he can brush whatever kinks are left in my hair. Such a rational thinker I am. His hands are smooth, gentle, and rhythmic as they pull the brush through the knots of hair, gently dealing with each wavvy fastening they encounter. Fakir lifts the brush as soon as he's made my hair satisfactorily silky, kissing the top of my head.
"There, now you should be good to sleep in it. I'll be back in a minute." Fakir begins trotting towards his bedroom, a towel wrapped tightly over his hips. I smile, running my fingers through my newly untangled hair, breezing through the soft strands as Fakir re-enters with the bottom half of his pajamas on. My attention is once again turned to that lengthy scar, and I watch my hands reach out to touch it, brushing along the discoloration. Fakir takes my hands and pulls them up to his lips instead, kissing my knuckles. I cock my head as he takes his own hand, placing it on my shoulder and sitting beside me on the bed. He runs his fingers up and down my back.
As we fall back into the comfortable arms of my bed together, the wood of the floor creaking beneath us, I have a thought. One that clings to the forefront of my mind, attached there with glue and honey. I try to keep it glued there, not saying anything about it. But it slips, and I ask.
"So, we're… Dating now, right?" Fakir stares at me for a long moment.
"Yeah? I mean, that's what I thought I said." My hand finds its way into his, cuddling closer into him as my sweaty palms press into his dry hands.
"Does that mean that you're my boyfriend?"
"I would assume so. That makes you my girlfriend as well."
My heart pounds harder in my chest with every syllable he utters. I'm someone's girlfriend, now. There's a strange euphoria in that knowledge, and an even stranger euphoria knowing that it's Fakir of all people. I curl up into him, nuzzling my face into his chest as my cheeks burn up in a futile attempt to hide my newly found flusteredness. Fakir strokes my hair, with his free hand running over the curve from my ribs to my waist.
It's silent once again. The moon is still out, I notice, as my eyes are drawn outside once again. Most of the clouds had already rolled past, though there was still rain dripping down the window, and there were sufficient amounts still pouring from the sky to constitute a storm, practically.
"Don't take our relationship as me going easy on you." Fakir finally shifted me back to stare up at him. "I expect you to perform just as well as if I was just your teacher."
"I wasn't planning on slacking off, sir," I mock, starting to braid my hair up. Fakir halts one of my hands though.
"Keep it down. It looks better down."
"You think? I always hated it when it was long and easy to tangle like this." I wrap my arms over his shoulders and snuggle closer to his face, planting a small kiss on his lips. Fakir pulls me back for another, much longer kiss and a shiver runs up my spine. My lips pull back as I smile next to him, standing up just to blow out my candle. The pattering of rain against my window, the cracking of distant thunder braying, and the twinkling stars providing us with the little light we do lead to a perfect bubble of night.
"I love you," I finally confess to him, the words foreign to my tongue. It's strange saying it to him and not the motionless lump of my pillow that's forced to take my affection. Fakir smiles widely, planting a small kiss on the top of my head.
"I love you too."