Grey Flower
"I scream into the night for you, don't make it true.... Don't jump."
Chapter Seven
There was only stunned silence between the three of us. It was difficult to come up with something to say to a young girl whose mother had been taken by your own kind. I was busy talking myself out of telling her that my father was a Pureblood that was out to kill my older cousin, and Takuma appeared to be wrestling with every emotion from sympathy to anger. I knew his take on Level Es — while he knew that they were mainly the cause of Purebloods, he was also ashamed to call them Vampires, for the exact reason of the child who stood in front of us. I knew Takuma; that was the kind of person he was.
"It doesn't matter," Miyabi sniffed, turning her back on the two of us suddenly. I watched her with interest, as she pulled something out of the pocket of her jacket. She looked down at it, then stuffed it quickly back into her pocket. I guess she had heard me in my curiousity, inching closer. "I always have her close to me."
The most likely item was a photograph, I figured. I carried one of my mother in my wallet, though I rarely ever looked at it in public. It was a fear that someone might see it and know everything instantly as if using telepathic powers of some sort. I couldn't stand the idea that my dearest mother might be exposed by my careless behaviour; so I just wasn't allowed to be careless. It was the same with the picture of Takuma I kept in my dormitory at Cross Academy — it was safely locked away in my bedside table, as if to keep him completely to myself. Some might think of this as a tactic used when I didn't want to see him, but really, it was so that only I would see him. Possessive, is the word, I believe.
"Why does it not matter?" Takuma asked, the heat rising in his voice. I knew that the subject of parents might tip him off — it was very rare that Takuma ever became angered, and I could guarantee anyone that they were lucky they had never seen it before. To try and restrain the mounting frustration, I grasped his hand. Tightly. "She's your mother, dead or not, Miyabi."
"I know; but if I hang on, it'll just hurt more. It's better to just for—"
"Don't you ever say that again." His voice dropped, deathly low. I was now holding on with both hands in an iron grip. "I don't ever want to hear you say that it's better to forget — you put that out of your head."
Miyabi froze in place, turning to look through the darkness at the dangerous look adorning Takuma's delicate features. I hated seeing him like this, and I was sure that if Miyabi could see in the dark, she would've felt the same. I could tell though, that she felt the aura surrounding him like a thick, unbreathable fog; her whole body was stiff, her eyes wide, her hands balled into fists. She was terrified.
"Takuma, stop it," I urged, squeezing his hand a little tighter. He looked over at me, expression softened. "It's late, let's take her home."
My lover nodded in agreement, and I relaxed my grip, reaching down to take one of Miyabi's hands so as to guide her through the night. She seemed quite willing to accept my presence, though she half-way hid behind me to avoid Takuma. It was the second time, other than Rima, that someone had accepted my company over my lover's.
xXXx
When we finally got Miyabi home, it was almost two in the morning. It turned out that the rocky slope had been a little more trecherous than we had remembered, having gone a little out of the way — we're aristocrats, not pathfinders — and took quite a while to navigate, even with enhanced senses. On the way, we had very little trouble with Level Es, though there was the occassional one that needed some gentle persuasion to move out of our way. They never came in near Heavensent, however, as if there was a greater power there that they feared. Even Level Es could sense when there was far too much danger for them to handle and could intinctively stay away, it seemed. The only question was, what was that danger?
"It's strange," Takuma mused, flopping back on our bed as the sun began to rise that morning. "They seem to have some sort of innate intelligence; did you notice? Like they're staying away from something purposely."
I was shutting the blackout curtains to keep the sunlight at bay. "How so?"
"They seem scared. It's as if... I don't know... they used to be higher classed before, and they've been able to hang onto some bit of intelligence." He looked up at me, emerald pools sparkling inquisitively. "What do you think, love?"
"I think they're Level Es, no matter how intelligent they may seem." I unbuttoned my shirt, tossing it on top of my bag to sit with my slacks. I pulled at the waistband of my pajama pants, crawling in next to the green-eyed beauty who took up the entire middle of the queen-sized matress. I pushed him over, rather effectively winning my spot next to him on the bed on handmade quilts. I climbed under the blankets, prompting Takuma to follow suit — this meant that he would accept my theory, and take the conversation no further.
I closed my eyes, ready to fall asleep when I felt a set of willowly fingers trail up my body. I shivered, looking over my shoulder at Takuma. He was propped up on one elbow, tracing patterns on my skin with intrest, quite the sultry expression sitting on his fine face. I raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"
"Well, you know... it's been a while since we..." After so many years, he was still shy about coming out with it. Sometimes — I decided, noticing the blush that crept over his cheeks — he was just too cute. Too tempting. "You think we could...?"
I was about to accept, rather readily, when the creak of a floorboard reminded me of the tall, golden blond below us. And, regrettably, I had only one word with which to answer him, "Shitsuren."
Takuma completely deflated. It was going to be a long time before we could learn to force ourselves to get used to this. I was becoming more and more starved by the day; but somehow it seemed to be taking an even larger toll on Takuma. He groaned, flopping over on his front with a long, muffled whine emanating from somewhere between his face and the goosefeather pillow that he had buried himself in. I smiled, rubbing his hair gently, and he looked up with pleading green pools of sorrow and dispair. I shook my head, and Takuma groaned again, almost in agony. I felt bad for him; but with Shitsuren Fuyuki within hearing and sight range of us, even I'd be too embarrassed. There was something so suspicious about him.... I'd be too afraid that he had cameras hidden in our loft or something like that.
"Come on, please?" he whined into the pillow. Though his voice was severely muffled, I was able to catch the words and decipher them, prompting me to sigh again. "Just a little bit?"
"No, I can't do it in front of Shitsuren." My haphazard explanation didn't give much room for me to move. After all, I had tried to seduce Takuma in front of several people tons of times; but that was always because I wanted to get something important out of him. Of course, that secret that I knew he was keeping was of some kind of importance as well, but I didn't feel like trying to squeeze the juice out of him at the moment — I was tired. I had just stayed up about fourteen hours straight after a day-long journey into the mountains with only two hours' sleep in between, something I wasn't used to; due to a high-demand modelling career. Missing any sleep meant risking bags and dark under-eye circles. "Just go to sleep, okay?"
I heard Takuma mutter something under his breath, and turned over, decidedly not wanting to know what it was he had said. It was obvious that the blond couldn't stay angry with me for very long. He turned on his side soon after, wrapping his arms around my slim waist, rocking my hips back against his in a suggestive manner. I reached down to lace our fingers, my hand over top of his to endure that he wouldn't be able to act upon any smart ideas — just another way of saying 'no'. Sometimes I wondered which of us was the true athoritative figure, he as the older (and obviously less mature), or me as the younger (made to grow up and suffer some great traumas at a very young age). Decidedly, we were tied, mostly because halfway into mentally writing the lists, I caved on Takuma's request. Falling asleep afterward was no difficult feat; both of us had been tense and frustrated, both craving eachother's touch. Unfortunately, I spent so much energy that I would not awaken until midnight the next night.