Steps
Aya + Aki
By: L 0 K I
Siren
Aya blushed hotly as she undid the button of her skirt, fingers fumbling shakily across her hip. She couldn't meet her brother's eyes as she pushed the skirt down a few inches, placing her right hand flat over her stomach to keep the coarse material in place, but letting it gape in the back enough to expose the top band of her panties.
With a deep breath and squaring of her shoulders, she shuffled over to the bed, lifting one knee up and placing it down on the cheap duvet. She squeaked, jerking back slightly, and only just managing to keep her precarious balance.
"What is it," came a whisper from a few feet behind her, startling her enough that her shoulders twitched.
She turned her head and smiled bashfully at her brother. "Nothing, just static electricity." She wiggled her socked toes for emphasis.
Aki's eyes were dark, and he wore a neutral expression that told her nothing about what he was thinking. But he nodded once to convey that he understood, or maybe that he accepted her explanation. Or maybe he was telling her to get a move on it.
With a tiny smile she turned back to the task at hand, crawling up onto the bed and pulling one of the plain white pillows to her chest. She lay down on her stomach, taking care to tuck her skirt under her modestly. She curled her arms around the pillow, and waited.
( ) *
Aki felt his breath grow shallow despite his best efforts, as he watched his sister's hands slowly move to her hip. It was one of those skirts that zipped up the side, falling into stiff pleats that bespoke primness, but with a hem that said something else altogether.
That hem slipped down a few more inches, and with a start he realized that he had been staring at her knees, imaging how they would feel under his hands. Or against his sides .
He looked away sharply, counting slowly in his head and forcing his breath to pace with each number.
Sister, sister, he reminded, his unease growing as his pulse actually sped up at that utterance, rather than slow down as it was supposed to.
(Just accept it. You'll feel better if you do. Less conflicted...)
No. He knew the truth, but if he stopped pushing the idea away, even for a second, he knew that it would change everything. If he let the thought become real to him, he knew he would then probably try to make it real in life as well.
And Aya doesn't feel the same way. I won't force my feelings on her.
(What if she did feel the same way?)
A flood of images.
Aya below him, above him, her arms reaching out to him, her mouth against his, her hands on his body.
A siren's song of emotions, dragging him mentally closer to that truth, holding his breath hostage in his throat. He felt his eyes widening reflexively, the pupils growing like black holes.
Just a touch, that dark voice whispered in his ear, just a taste.
( What would you give to have her as your own? )
( What would you do? )
He came to suddenly, at his sister's gasp, his head jerking up sharply. To his utter shock, he realized he had advanced on her and the bed a couple of steps, his hand half out-stretched, as if reaching for her.
Fisting his hand and digging his nails into his palm until the flesh gave and bled, he forced whatever expression that shadowed his face away, trying hurriedly to rearrange it into what he hoped was something neutral.
"What is it?"
She turned to him, looking adorably subdued, and wiggled her little toes. "Nothing, just static electricity."
Not quite understanding her words, and still trying to shake away those clinging whispers of temptation, he nodded once.
Her smile became less embarrassed and more pronounced, more her. She turned back to the bed and her skirt dipped a few more centimeters---not enough to measure, but enough for him to notice. He seemed to notice everything about her now.
Like the long length of her legs, the seemingly soft hollow behind her knees as she crawled up onto the bed. The strength of her arms, the fall of her hair...
He looked away quickly, then just as quickly looked back, not being able to restrain himself enough to ignore what he could so clearly see.
( What you want to see... )
He wanted to cry. He wanted to run far away from here. He wanted to shove his sister at Touya and shout, 'Protect her from me!'...
Tucking her skirt down modestly and pulling her commandeered pillow closer to her chest, Aya situated herself on her stomach in the centre of that spacious bed. She turned her head, resting it on her arm in a gesture that was strangely caught between the innocence of youth, and the beguiling games of seduction that adults played. All unconsciously. Her hair fell into her eyes, across her small shoulders, it pooled around her face like a halo of gold. She looked up at him.
He wanted to be on that bed!
He was already at the edge of it before he realized, his knee sinking the mattress under his weight. He hesitated only for a second at the rapid beating of his heart, then crawled up.
Siren
n 1 : one of a group of creatures in Greek mythology that lured mariners to destruction by their singing 2 a : woman who sings with bewitching sweetness b : a temptingly beautiful woman; esp : one who is insidiously seductive : temptress 3 : a device for producing a penetrating warning sound
adj : of or relating to a siren : enticing, bewitching
siren song n : an alluring utterance or appeal; esp : one that is seductive or deceptive
Synonyms: Alarm. Warning. Beacon. Temptress. A dangerous, bewitching woman.
TBC...