Part four, drabble 8: Kiss

It was Cotton Candy Pink, and it was driving Mamoru crazy. The arcade was empty save for he and Usagi, who was applying lip gloss as she waited for Motoki to get a new carton of chocolate ice cream from the freezer in the back. Mamoru watched as Usagi slid the tube of lip gloss across her already pink lips in what must have been the eighteenth application.

"That," Mamoru finally remarked, "is completely unnecessary."

Usagi blinked at him as if she'd only just noticed his appearance.

"Hmm?"

"The lipstick," he waved his hand dismissively. "It's unnecessary."

"What makes you say that?" she sounded vaguely curious. She cocked her head to the side, and he was momentarily distracted by the fall of hair that slid over her shoulder, pooling into her lap. It irritated him that only she could make him feel this way, so foolish and juvenile. She was a distraction he didn't want or need. It made him surly.

"A thing like that," he said, "isn't going to improve your appearance any. You'll need spackle for that."

She gasped, and Mamoru thought that maybe he'd finally crossed the line. What would she do? He watched, quiet and remorseful, as tears welled in her expressive eyes. She blinked them back, something he'd never seen her do before. Finally, her gaze slid back over to him.

"You are nothing more than a bully," she said.

Mamoru hesitated. Should he apologize? Tell her he hadn't meant it?

Usagi slid off the barstool with a grace far beyond her years, crossing the distance between them without taking her eyes off of him.

"You call me childish, but really you're the child, aren't you? No one ever taught you any better than to insult ladies. You're like a little boy who teases a girl to get her attention." She gasped as she realized the accuracy of her statement. Her blue eyes were wide with shock and a sudden newfound knowledge.

"Oh my god, that's it, isn't it? You don't hate me at all. You really lo-"

Mamoru panicked, completely unprepared to hear his biggest secret spoken out loud. So he did the only thing he could think of to do. He grabbed her by the shoulders and slammed his lips over hers.

It was the strangest kiss of his life. He was so much taller than she was that he had to bend down to keep their lips connected. The most surprising thing was that she didn't fight him off. She didn't pull away or gasp or try to slap him or any one of a number of things he might have expected. She just stood there, perfectly still, and let him kiss her. And then, even more surprisingly, her hands crept up his chest to his shoulders, and she hauled herself up on her tiptoes, so that he no longer had to bend down so far.

"Oh, god," he breathed against her lips. Her eyes were closed, her delicate brows knitted in concentration. She wasn't at all skilled, and it was terribly obvious that she had no idea what to do, but Mamoru thought it was the most amazing kiss he'd ever had. Because he loved her. And she knew.

The back door swung open, hitting the wall with a bang, and they jerked apart in unison as Motoki hefted a five gallon carton of chocolate ice cream to the front of the store.

"What's going on?" he asked curiously, immediately realizing what had taken place.

"Nothing!" they both quickly denied.

"Nothing at all," Usagi said, her voice shaky. "I…I have to get home. Rain check on that milkshake?"

Motoki nodded, barely concealing his amusement as Usagi ran for the door.

"So," Motoki began, taking a seat behind the counter, "what really went on?"

"Nothing. Really. Nothing," Mamoru said, averting his eyes.

"Right," Motoki tossed a napkin at Mamoru, hitting him square in the face. "Wipe your mouth. Usagi's lipstick looks better on her than it does on you. Pink just isn't your color."