Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda D'Oro.
OK, I'll let you guess who the heck are the characters in this story are by taking note of the descriptions. But it's actually obvious, don't you think?
Summary: Nobody wants to get robbed in the middle of the night; or, in general, nobody wants to be woken up in the middle of the night for something insignificant like being robbed, especially students.
Burglar Alert
In the middle of the cold eve, underneath a blanket of velvety, midnight blue skies with stray glittering specks, the leaves rustle as the winds waft a chilly feeling, and the many inhabitants have drifted into a deep sleep.
So silent, so endearing – that was the night; perfect for sweet dreams and… robbing?
A few creaks echoed through a red-haired girl's room, and she tossed herself on her bed like pancakes. The irking sounds penetrated her hearing and she could sense an eerie presence lurking around - hardly.
She did not stir, fortunately for the thief's part.
He looked around the room and found nothing of much value; however, there was one thing he saw that was worth stealing, enough to get him through the night. It was breathing steadily, fast asleep and probably fancying something only she would understand.
Her chest rose and fell in a fixed rhythm and she frequently made subtle movements in the warm blanket that got tangled around her. And he envied that inanimate object, having been given permission to hug her tightly – and without her whining, at that.
She was pretty and seemed so soft for a girl with a slender frame.
The feel of her fine-looking skin must be tantalizing, he thought, and he wanted to lay even just one finger on it, run it across her cheek, and put it next to his lips.
Red hair flowed slickly passed her shoulders, a few strands masked a fraction of her face, and left just enough to have him standing still without chains to hold him in custody.
What the…
He shook the thought off all of a sudden when he realized he was a thief and she was the victim. Still, he was a man – a young high school boy to be specific – who subconsciously seeks for affection from a woman of his delight. And he thinks he's found her, on a beautiful night.
The wind blew through the window he had left open when he came in and caressed his soft cheeks. It was frigid and he, undoubtedly, needed some warmth to fix that up. Or was it a lame excuse to approach her? Either way, he'd do it. After all, it wasn't fair for him – she had no valuables in the room and he had to take something of equal worth to his efforts.
And thus, with his obstinate verdict and unchangeable desire that ate his insides, he began taking languid steps towards her bed, watching out for any objects that might cause her sudden waking.
She turned and unconsciously kicked her blanket off the bed; and it gave him a better view of her face, much to his content.
Clad in pink pajamas, she was, and not the usual women he sees whenever he robs their houses of valuables, who wear silk nightgowns and frilly clothing. And he had one comment: they made him gag.
Slowly… slowly…
He crept noiselessly towards her side and set his eyes upon her features.
She was lovely, quite lovely; and her lips tempted him to do what he had promised never to do: kiss a girl. But no one was watching and it was him versus a defenseless girl, not to mention a sleeping one.
He sighed, running a sole finger across her cheek; as he expected, it was delicate and it felt exquisite against his skin.
The wind blew passed him and onto her face, clearing her face of any more strands of red hair. A full view of her pink lips – perfect.
He bent over, putting his right hand on the mattress to support his body's weight, as he drew closer to the fair maiden.
Mere inches left between their lips and she fluttered her eyelids open to see what had caused her sleep that mild disturbance. They widened but he was quick enough to seal her mouth with his, preventing any screams from coming out.
Surprisingly, it didn't feel all that weird; matter of fact, it felt quite warm. And she couldn't and wouldn't fight him off, even if it was necessary. She was being robbed in the middle of the night and she didn't mind it one bit – queer.
'A thief?' she thought when suddenly their lips parted. He looked at her and she responded with the same, dull look he gave her.
A man in black stood in front of him, probably the same age as her, but it made no surprise to her. "Are you a thief?" came her direct question and he could only huff at the silliness of her question.
The familiar feel of the breeze against his skin was there.
He could feel it and he knew all too well that that meant he had to flee for the night.
"I'm going," he said, making her sit up all of a sudden. "Will you come again tomorrow?" she asked.
He replied with nothing but a cold turn and jumped out of her room. She knew it was a yes.
Surely, he'll come tomorrow and rob another kiss from her, but she wouldn't mind… nope, not one bit.
Blue hair and golden eyes – she'll remember that.
—End
OK, that stunk. First of all, there wasn't any name in specific, only little descriptions that lead you to who that person I'm referring to is. I didn't reveal that it was Len who was the – hot – thief in Kahoko's room until the end just to keep the suspense up and running. It was a bit difficult, you know, to not mention any details until the bitter end. Anyway, there's still the matter of those two stories – wait for them. Review!