Day 5: Jealousy

Disclaimer: Lyrics aren't mine, obviously.

I totally mixed up the prompts for day 5 and 6. This was kind of a last minute thing.

"You never call me cute."

"…What?"

"I said you never call me cute."

Kou looks up from his lunch, his juice box hanging in midair. He takes a hesitant sip, feels the cool liquid slide down his throat. He gulps uneasily. "I never thought I needed to. You already know how I feel about you."

Futaba rolls her eyes and straightens in her seat, fixing the pleats on her skirt as she does. "Well, yeah, but you always coo at your cat, saying how much of a cutie it is," she points out.

He puts his juice down. "My cat is adorable. What is your point?" He fixes her with a curious look.

She shrugs, plucks off a chunk of his bread and pops it into her mouth. "I'm just saying that you never miss a beat giving your pet these endearments every day, but with me, it's like, once in a blue moon or none at all."

He chuckles, pushing the rest of his bread towards her. Futaba eagerly attacks it. A fond look crosses his face. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

"What? No!" She half-exclaims, half-chews.

'Yup, definitely jealous,' he thinks. "Babe, I think you're plenty cute. Happy now?"

"No, now it feels like you're just saying it to appease me!"

"Okay, how about this then?" He forgoes his lunch altogether and reaches across the adjoined desks for her hand. A tingle starts where her fingers rest on his skin, and scarlet starts to stain his cheeks. He tries to keep a straight face as he boldly declares, "You're not cute."

Futaba draws back, her jaw dropping. "Well, thank you very much for being honest, you big tur—" he claps a hand over her mouth, and now it's his turn to roll his eyes. "I'm not finished," he says. She narrows her eyes at him before gesturing to his hand. He responds by tucking her hair behind her ear.

"You're not cute. No, you—you're fucking beautiful. I'd say sorry for swearing, but I'm not," he admits before she can protest. He has this nostalgic look about him, gets up to slide into the seat right next to her. By this time, people start to notice the commotion and stop their current pastimes to watch.

Futaba flusters in her seat.

"You were cute—like, five years ago, when we were in junior high playing cops and robbers and you had this look about you as you tried to tag me out. Remember? No, I wasn't making fun of you then, and I'm not doing it now either. Now you're—I can't even begin to tell you what I wouldn't do for you." He pauses, places an arm around the back of her chair. His eyelids flutter closed as he leans his forehead against hers. "You're like a cop. You're my hero. Yeah, you're annoying sometimes, and you always steal my consommé chips, but you're always saving me. You give me shit when I'm slacking off or going somewhere… bad. And dark. Yeah, that must be it. You're light. My light."

He is looking at her now, as in really looking at her with these eyes of piercing, molten silver. She feels a smile coming on. "You are sunlight and I, moon, joined by the gods of fortune, midnight and high noon sharing the sky."

Their classmates surround their table, hooting and catcalling and making kissy faces and other gestures, but Kou is all she sees. Futaba has a hard time finding her voice, and when she does, she settles for just one word.

"Well."

Kou laughs, sneaks a peck on her cheek as he says, "How's that for a confession, huh?"

"Pretty impressive, I must admit. Honest. Poetic, even."

"Good! Good," he replies, looking pretty smug with his chest puffed out as he nods at peers who clap him in the back in passing. She allows him a few seconds of triumph and returns to her bento.

"You totally ripped off Miss Saigon though, you arse."

"Yeah, well, love you too."