iii.
There were rare moments when he forgot himself. So rare, that he scarcely remembered they happened; those little snippets of passion melted away into the daily chore of living, breathing, cooking, doing laundry, admiring her under the cloak of friendship. But they happened, and Kaoru remembered.
Don't say a word,
Just come over and lie here with me
One night, Yahiko was away at the Akebeko, and Kenshin had too much sake. Kaoru had done some reorganizing of the kitchen (a terrible idea), and he had inadvertently grabbed the wine when he wanted the tea. Kenshin was a terrible drunk; he was prone to singing and rambling and possibly even truth.
Cause I'm just about to set fire to everything I see
Kaoru was guiding him back to his room (he was also a clumsy drunk). He had his right arm around her waist, and her left arm was draped over his hips to keep him from falling. When she reached her lithe, pale arm out to slide the rice door open, he took her hand and kissed her pulse.
I want you so bad
I'll go back on the things I believe
His eyes were golden, like fireflies in the night meadow, a plaything for small children, tempting to a young woman.
There I just said it:
I'm scared you'll forget about me
He blinked a long, sensual blink, and his eyes returned to their normal, amiable amethyst.
But that glimpse of the raw man beneath the exterior was a streak across Kaoru's mind forever, like the flash after a camera.