Night Blooms
17:45 - Los Angeles, California - Thirteen years post-Totsuki
It's been years since she'd last seen her ex boyfriend, but there Hayama Akira is anyway, bronzed and beautiful, covered in a mixture of sand and sea. His hair is loose, and she can see where she stands that he's been in the water, the silvery tendrils windswept and slightly coarse, painting him the perfect picture of a surfer fresh from sea.
His physique more than helps him along in that respect.
"Hisako." He looks a little surprised at her presence, but his smile is bright, showing off his straight white teeth. "How've you been?"
She smiles, and hopes it doesn't come off overly awkward. Truth be told, she's still reeling from the shock of seeing him again.
That, and the fact that she's newly-single, the ring that had once sat on her engagement finger now packed away among boxes in her brand-new beachside apartment. California was meant to be her fresh start.
So much for moving forward.
"Well enough. Are you here on holiday?" A cursory glance tells her all she needs to know – that he's well, and that he's done as she'd requested the cold, rainy night of their final goodbye. She knows (through the occasional Facebook scroll-through) that he's more than made something of himself; he's happy, he's cooking, he's perfectly successful and well-able to finance and support the endeavours of the Shiomi lab.
If he has a wife, he's kept it well under wraps.
"I live here now." Flicking his hair casually, Akira jerks his head towards the beachside bar. "Come have a drink with me and we'll talk."
Hours later, they're well into their sixth bottle of Italian red. They've laughed, they've cried, and they've argued over the littlest and most insignificant details of their long-term romance and eventual break-up. She learns about Hayama Akira: 30, recently divorced, successful business owner and restaurateur, and apparently very much still into her.
"I really did think you were gonna marry that fellow, you know." Akira's tolerance for alcohol has always been stronger than hers, and they've done well to pace themselves. She's glad for it – she doesn't think his agent (or her restaurant's PR, for that matter) would appreciate their making the headlines tomorrow for all the wrong reasons.
She shrugs a shoulder as she chews her calamari. "Something snapped, I guess. He was what I wanted." A pause. Her heart thumps heavily within her chest. "Maybe he wasn't what I needed."
Akira's smile turns soft. He shakes his head, leaning forward, just a little closer to her. It's barely midnight, and the college kids on spring break are in full party mode. Still, they're pretty far removed in their corner booth, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss him, or his touch, or his kisses and the taste of him.
So she doesn't fight back when he kisses her. Instead, she melts.
Later, when they're laying tangled together in bed, she wonders whether she had ever felt this much at home in her ex's arms. Akira runs his fingers feather-light along the curves of her bare, slender back. The soft breaths that accompany his kisses follow suit. He whispers against her skin, and she can just make out the sentiment that warms her heart in the darkness of the night.
"Are you drawing?" She asks.
He chuckles, and the doodling commences. A circle. Petals. Leaves. It's a habit from days long past, saved exclusively for mornings where they'd had enough time to cuddle in bed. The motions are familiar as before. "Can you guess what this is?"
She snuggles deeper into his pillow, taking in the scent of it – cinnamon and applespice. "Chrysanthemum. Next."
Longer petals. A distinctive heart. Over and over the finger drags, and as it comes up, so too does her appetite, again.
"Lily."
"You're still very good at this." Akira kisses the crook between her neck and shoulder before settling in closer behind her, his warmth and hardness pressing against her back. Still, the man continues in his endeavours.
A stem, she thinks at first. And then another. A circle. More stems. It takes her a few short seconds to understand what he's trying to say.
It's not a flower. It's three words, and she knows exactly what they are. After all, it's what she's known for over a decade.
So when he finishes, she turns her head around to meet his eyes. "I know," She says. "And I love you too."
