Twelve White Butterflies
Yugao
Author's Note: Number nine is here, and it's titled Cold Summer Nights. It's inspired by a song with the same title, but I don't know who sang it, sorry.
Disclaimer: I don't own Tekken, and unless I become a multi-billionaire I never will.
"I wish… that we could stay this close, forever."
Nine… Cold Summer Nights
He leaned back contentedly against the large, age-old oak tree and noticed, only barely, that she had fallen asleep. Her head was on his lap, and she was curled up much the way a cat sleeps. The stars had not come out that night, and the moon contented herself with the soft, gossamer clouds that had made themselves her companions.
He smiled as he reached for her hand, which lay at her side on the grass. He held her hand in his, feeling its warmth. He closed his eyes and let his fingertips travel her long, slender fingers and smooth palm.
His left eye opened just a little when his hand felt a little bump on the fourth finger of her right hand. It was a callus, a patch of skin hardened because of… too much writing, he presumed. She'd stayed up all of last night writing. She dedicated her whole life to her research, to her work. She needed this night of rest more than anything. She had earned her sleep.
He gently lay her hand back on the grass and tried to let her sleep peacefully. Soon, though, his hand found its way to her dark brown hair. He ran his hand through her long, slightly curled hair that he had seen so often kept braided neatly away from her face. That night, though, she had let it loose.
"Mmm…" she murmured softly.
He drew back his hand, wanting just to let her sleep but being unable to help himself, either. Her hazel eyes fluttered open sleepily, but a contented smile was on her face. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's all right," she whispered back, "I didn't mind."
Her voice was soft, gentle. Vaguely it reminded him of his mother's voice, so many years ago, coaxing him to return to sleep. But any memory of his mother was always so vague, so distant, but that night it was different. Her voice in his mind was clear, and he could remember the exact lilt her laugh took when she was ever so slightly upset, the exact tone she used when she scolded him, the sweet, rhythmic lullabies she sang him to sleep to…
The soft touch of her hand on his woke him from his reverie. He tilted his head a little, just to see her caress his hand gently. Her fingertips brushed his knuckles, and he felt himself smile. "What are you doing?" he asked, but it came out as a mumble.
"I'm trying to memorize the feel of your hands," she whispered.
He smiled. "I'll still be alive tomorrow."
"… Will I be?" she asked him. "And if I'll still be alive, who's to say we'd still be together?"
He sighed. It was a lovely night, and he didn't want to ruin it. He shushed her. "Don't think like that. I'll be here, you'll come meet me. It'll be the same the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that."
"Since when have you been optimistic?" she said with a sly grin.
He shook his head. "Just now. Just because you're here."
She closed her eyes, and for a moment he'd thought she'd gone back to sleep. He smiled again. To others, it was a rare sight on his face. But whenever he was with her, it seemed to perpetually be in place.
He reached out and cupped her cheek with his hand. Her skin was warm, his hand cold. The feel of his skin on hers opened her eyes once more. Again, he withdrew his hand.
"No," she whispered, taking his hand and leading it back to her cheek. "I want to savor this moment."
He looked at her questioningly. "Is something wrong?"
She shook her head. "I wish… we could stay this close, forever."
Author's Note: A bit different from the other entries, I think. No names have been mentioned, but I don't think I have to say it. This is a JinJulia collection, after all. Please review.