Disclaimer: No money made, Fruits Basket is Takaya Natsuki's.
Chapter 6 – First times
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The first time they met, Haru's knee was bleeding and she was the only one that came to his side, softly cleaning the wound with her handkerchief. The first time he looked into her eyes, he thought he saw an angel.
The first time he saw her dance at New Year he was 5 years old. Still he could remember every moment of it as clearly as if it just happened a moment ago. He still remembered the grace, the fluid movements, the strength that seemed to be entirely her own. She had been beautiful, perfect, almost too beautiful to be true. Haru thought that back then he had lost his heart to her.
The first time he saw her cry, was when her parents abandoned her, told her that they didn't know how to love her anymore. He still remembered her crestfallen look as her world, and her heart, and her soul shattered. And that moment she cried, without tears. But her heart was crying. And Haru let the tears fall, that she couldn't.
The first time he turned black in her presence was when someone teased him about his hair. He didn't even remember who made the remark, but he remembered the moment he lost control over his violent side. He remembered that he wanted to hurt the person and he remembered that he suddenly felt two thin but surprisingly strong arms around his body and her voice in his ear. He remembered how she whispered that everything is okay. And he remembered how she later told him, that she liked his hair.
The first time he drank alcohol was with her as well. He had wanted to prove that he was already 'grown up' and had sneaked out a bottle of whatever it was out of his fathers stocking. Later they opened the bottle together, both looking disgusted when they sniffed the liquid curiously. But still, they both took a large gulp. Rin spit it out again, he swallowed. Haru remembered the funny feeling and he remembered how suddenly the world seemed to spin too fast. He remembered how Rin told him to sleep. She had held him the entire time.
The first time he realized his feelings for her was when she helped him with his homework. While she patiently explained something, he suddenly looked at her and felt his heart stopping. He suddenly was very aware of the warmth of her body, the scent of her hair, of how close she was sitting next to him. He must have stared, because then she looked at him and asked if he was alright. He had simply nodded. This awareness, those feelings she alone awoke never left him again.
The first time she realized his feelings for her was when he waited for her in front of her school, patiently leaning against the wall that surrounded the compound. She remembered seeing him and then she had looked at him, really looked at him. And she saw the changes. He was still the boy she remembered, but she could already see the man he would become. She had blushed, glad that he hadn't seen her yet. And then he looked up and smiled at her. And she had known, simply known, that she couldn't keep this feelings bottled up inside of her forever.
The first time they kissed was only a few weeks after she recognized her feelings for him. He asked her if he could kiss her, and although she tried to talk him out of it – a poor attempt, she had to admit – he silenced her with the truth. They loved each other. She couldn't argue with that. His lips on hers had felt good, so soft yet strong, inexperienced yet eager. The kiss marked the day of their downfall. There was no way they could have stopped the spiral that took them both higher and downwards at the same time.
The first time they made love was when they saw a glimpse of paradise. Never had she thought that her body could feel such feelings. Yet his hands, his lips, his tongue on her skin, everywhere at once, pulled her into a place she had never known. Soft caresses, suppressed moans, stroking fingers, searching lips and hands, and then sliding home, completion. Movement, groans, a rhythm getting faster, her name on his lips and his on hers and then feeling, breaking, shuddering. And then the words again that she feared and longed to hear all the same. I love you.
The first time she hurt him was when she needed him the most. She had been falling, willingly taking the blame, protecting him. She hurt him when she broke his heart, because she had to. To keep him safe.
The first time she cried was the day her deepest wish came true. She felt the bond break and her first thought was 'Free'. And yet she felt the tears of misery rising in her eyes, the separation, the loneliness, the longing. She felt his hands on her only moments later, enveloping her trembling form in a hug that was reassuring, comforting and desperate all the same. A small reminder that he was still there, even though she couldn't feel him anymore.
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The End
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