Thank you for the Follows. This chapter is rated T for language.
Disclaimer: Disclaimed
Chapter Two: The Deepest Question
"Would you fuck me?"
The pair was in her room. A lit lamp sitting on a wooden desk was on, throwing light beams across the room. The thick navy drapes were drawn shut. The low hum of electricity kept a faint, continuous vibrato in the background. Plastered over the baby-blue walls were various posters accumulated over the years. A notable black-and-white image hanging above the wooden bedpost was a photograph of two pimple-ridden teenagers of the opposite genders. The hilarity springing forth from such a portrait was the formal, serious print upon the picture of two goofballs. A straw hat embroidered with wildflowers covered the boy's eyes; a fake mustache sat lopsidedly above his lip, discreetly asking for attention. What seemed particularly baffling, however, was the zigzag-patterned bra hugging his chest at an odd angle; the lone bow in the center of the garment seemed to be shouting, "Take me off!"
A cheeky grin was etched upon the girl's face as her index and middle finger stuck up behind the boy's flowery head. Lengthy bangs peeked out from a frazzled beanie; short cropped hair frayed at her neck, and several inconveniently longer strands caught themselves in her joyous beam.
"Oi, I asked you a question."
"What question?" A stirring came from under the sheets. A mop of brunet hair disappeared from the pillow and ducked underneath the blankets.
"You heard the first time, you idiot."
"Nobody asked you to repeat it," said a muffled voice. Tainted with sleepiness, the speaker yawned and made a point in burrowing deeper into her comforter.
"Get out of bed."
"No."
"Don't make me."
"Oh Natsume, you are such a morning joy, a sight for sore eyes." Shuffling under the sheets, the lethargic girl ignored his halfhearted threat.
"So I've heard," Natsume observed, nodding to no one in particular. Second finger against his bottom lip, he crossed his legs atop one another. An impish blink of an eye and a flick of a wrist later, he said, "You seem to be forgetting something."
"I'm trying to sleep. Shut up and leave me alone."
Without warning, the black bedspread was yanked away from the curled-up form, revealing puffy-eyed girl, her auburn hair sticking up in a myriad of angles. Her neck snapped up to reveal startled eyes. A speck of saliva gathering at the corners of her mouth was hastily wiped away.
"It's ten now, precious princess. Rise and shine."
Sitting up groggily in her unbuttoned pajamas, the 'precious princess' threw a menacing glare at her disruptor. "Natsume," she growled, bloodshot eyes slightly crossed.
A wolfish grin highlighting his features, Natsume handed the girl coffee-rimmed glasses. "Your eyes are crossed. Tell me, what is it like, seeing two of me?"
"Hell," she muttered. "One of you is more than I can bear."
"But that doesn't change your love for me now, does it?"
The girl ran a hand through her tangled hair. Wincing as she yanked her hand free from a particular gnarl, she snorted incredulously. "Oh the devil wished. Wished."
"Ah, but I know so."
Waving a dismissive hand, the girl climbed out of bed, her glasses sitting crooked atop the bridge of her nose. "Whatever you say." She stretched, glancing about dim room. "Now, what time did you say it was?"
"Three o'clock."
Pausing half way towards her closet, girl spun around, dubious. "What?"
"Must I repeat myself?"
"You said it was ten," she demanded.
Natsume leaned carelessly against a wooden desk, studying the all-too-familiar bedroom slowly. "Oh so I did, did I not?"
Stalking towards the draped window, she forcefully shoved them apart, revealing a dark windowpane. The pearly light of moon wiggled its way through the tree branches above and shyly crawled through the glass window.
A scowl accentuating her brows, the girl turned around slowly. "Liar," she hissed. Seething in silent anger, she strode back to her bed and flopped into the jumbled sheets. Tossing her glasses onto the desk, she moaned into the pillow kicked the covers up behind her.
Natsume merely remained rooted against the desk on the alabaster carpet. A puckish expression tinted his appearance. Earlier in the evening, he had borrowed a loose mahogany muscle tee that somehow made its way into the bedroom owner's closet. Albeit is initial protests, the piece of cloth was shoved into his hands and he was promptly told to change. His lower torso was clad in a dark pair of loose-fitting exercise pants; bare feet stuck out from beneath him, nakedly wondering when they would experience the pleasure of warm socks again.
Natsume cleared this throat.
The figure on the bed popped her head up. Rolling her eyes, she heaved a heavy sigh and heaved her body into a sitting position. Legs dangling over the side of the bed, she reached for her glasses. Tying her hair into a quick topknot, she crossed her arms. "It's three."
"Mikan, here is the deepest secret."
The girl pushed her spectacles up against the bridge of her nose. She wrinkled her nose, "What? It can't wait for tomorrow morning?"
Silence engulfed the room.
Natsume pushed away from the table, tongue in his cheek. "If you will be able to wait that long, that is." Stepping towards the door, he rested a hand on the knob. "Sorry for waking you, ace. You have my permission to continue snoring."
He turned the knob, exercising the door's creaky hinges. Slipping through the opening like a ghost, he left without another word.
Mikan sat on the bed, her shoulders slumped and weary mind perplexed.
She half-expected him to change his mind and come lumbering back.
Natsume's receding footsteps faded down the hallway; there was a pause when he reached the stairs – as if he had decided that his departure was unnecessary, that he would come back and continue pestering the brunette after all. After several moments of silence, it was evident that he would make no such decision. Stepping down the stairs, he expertly avoided the creaky step and arrived on the ground story.
Secret?
As her curious nature guided her decisions, her mind was made up moments later. With a grunt, Mikan pushed herself off her warm nest, making her way towards the door. Shaking her head, it seemed to her silly how a "secret" could rouse her more than domineering commands. Tugging the door open successfully, she slid out of the room noiselessly. Tiptoeing past the sleeping forms in her parents' room, she crept down the stairs and made her way towards the living room couch.
Groping her way through the dark, she stubbed her toe against the sharp corner of a table. Stupid son of a cheese biscuit, she cursed.
Several agonizing bumping-into-furniture moments later, her hands finally found what they were looking for.
At the exact moment, a lamp flickered on, revealing a messy black mop of head and raised brows. Natsume had his hand resting on the lamp switch as he stared at the intruder triumphantly. Shaking the amusement from his eyes, he nodded in greeting and cleared his throat. "Hey," he said raspily.
"Hey yourself." Mikan planted herself to her spot. "You are a cliffhanger, you know?"
Natsume's lips tugging upwards hinted his pleasure in seeing her. "I'll greet you with 'Hey, Cliffhanger here' next time then."
Mikan nodded. "Good idea."
He rolled his eyes. "So what brings you my humble abode?" he asked, gesturing towards the soft-cushioned sofa and warm blankets around him.
"Technically, it's my 'abode," Mikan quoted with her fingers, "and not yours."
"Ah, but it is for the night, isn't it?"
"You're hopeless."
"You wish."
"Trust me, I know." Mikan wheeled around and settled onto one side of the couch. Cracking the tired bones in her neck, she removed the hair tie from her head and removed her glasses. Mildly able to see without them, she folded them and placed on her lap. She looked up expectantly.
Natsume watched her intently. "Hey, I'm sleeping here."
Mikan harrumphed. "You're awake now, so you might as well spill your little secret."
"I have no secret."
She sucked in her cheeks. Shoving a fisted hand into Natsume's arm, she scoffed. "Yeah-huh."
"Says whom?" he said, echoing her earlier words.
Mikan glared at his mocking tone, "Says you, mister."
"You mean 'here is the deepest secret'?"
She nodded.
"It is a question."
"Question shmeshtin. What is the question then?"
"Would you fuck me?"
Mikan wrinkled her nose. "You should change the question to 'Would you fuck yourself,' actually.
Natsume lowered his voice. "Of course I'd fuck myself. Have you seen how hot I am?"
Mikan rolled her eyes. "Conceited jerk."
"Hot jerk," he corrected smugly.
"As in jerking off?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.
Natsume grinned leisurely. "That too."
Mikan reached forward and flicked her finger across his forehead. "Yeah, I don't think that I need to know that, thank you very much. Is this what I got out of bed for?"
"Apparently," Natsume hummed. "So would you fuck me?" he repeated.
Mikan waved her hand, "Nah. Save your energy, playboy."
He shrugged. "Your loss."
"As if you'd enjoy it, idiot."
"Yeah, I probably wouldn't. Sex must be hell with you."
Mikan aimed a kick at her friend. "Shh. Shut up. My parents will hear," she hissed.
"They're asleep. That was one heck of a kick," Natsume muttered, rubbing his leg.
"Which reminds me that I should be going to bed as well."
"You're finally leaving. 'Night, Polka."
Mikan rolled her eyes at her nickname of six years. "Goodnight, you queer little thing."
"You mean big," he corrected.
Pervert.
Snarky Holophrasis
November 14th, 2015
