She listened to the tap run in the bathroom as she curled up in the futon, feigning sleep. She still didn't know how to face him, so for once she was allowing herself to be a coward. Maybe the way would come to her in the night, but she didn't hold faith in it.
Her crying had emptied her out, and all that was left was the hollow ring of disbelief that echoed inside her. She just didn't believe that this was happening. That it had been happening. How had they even gotten here?
The door opened, and she flinched in her feigned sleep. She knew he was standing there in his shorts, and she thought it silly that she should even care. Not after having seen him naked. Not after having tasted...But she didn't want to see, didn't want to remember how those shorts had looked straining against his swollen flesh, or how very flushed and fair his skin had looked against the shadowed blue.
Or how that cloth had felt, hot and wet beneathe her fingers.
Her eyes squeezed down tighter, arms and legs drawing up closer to her body.
There was so much silence, what was he doing?
He's watching me...
A shiver slid across the small of her back, trying to deepen her breath, but she wouldn't let it. Still she couldn't push out the feeling of eyes moving over her body with the weight of a hand.
A sigh, and it hurt her, because she could hear the pain in it, the frustration. It squeezed tears into her throat, but she swallowed them back down, feeling the dull ache in her eyes that said she just couldn't cry anymore.
How much easier would things be if she could hate him? If she didn't love him? But there was no reality where that could ever happen, so she was left with the knowledge that somehow...somehow she had to move past this. They had to move past this. Because there was no alternative where she could ever push him from her life. Not her Aniki. Not just because she needed him now, needed him to continue in this half-existence...But because he was her best friend, her eye of the storm. She had come to rely so much on him, and he on her, that she just couldn't imagine trying to do any of this without him.
No secret, no matter how deep or dark, could ever make her turn her back on him. And while this understanding should have given her peace, perspective, should have given her the tools and will to overcome...all it did was fill her with fear.
Because...it spoke of a willingness to compromise.
She just wasn't sure how far that compromise would take her. How deep into the grey area she was willing to go to keep this from tearing them apart.
And...and things around her were shifting, assimilating this new knowledge and seeing things in this new way.
Taking her down new paths, though she had no idea where they may lead.
Near-silent steps in the darkened room. He was moving closer, and she found her body winding tighter and tighter. Dreading confrontation. Interaction. Something...
"Aya?" A soft call, it reminded her of last night, how she had stole the bed and feigned sleep. How his voice had been soft and hesitant. How his fingers had touched her ankle with that same hesitance. And understanding came again when she didn't want it. How he had allowed himself to be convinced that she was asleep. How he had touched her, not with the goal of surprising her into giving up her game, but...just to touch her. Because he wanted to. Because she would never know any different.
Something poisonous whispered through her mind, but she couldn't swallow it down. Aki would never hurt her. Not even in her ignorance. But still, she pretended to be asleep, held her breath in wait of his next actions.
She didn't believe it possible, but she had to know for certain all the same.
Even though she knew that knowing could quite possibly destroy her.
Time passed in slow moments. She could hardly stand it. Every second she spent in this new world she felt like she was going to go flying apart. But she held herself still, waiting to see which way the rock would fall.
"Aya?" barely a whisper, something that said he didn't really want her to wake up, but he did want to assuage his guilt by telling himself that he had at least tried.
She concentrated on pacing her breaths, making sure they were slow and even, and didn't start piling up with panic in her throat. Her heart was beating rapidly within her breast, and she couldn't seem to get it to slow. It pounded in her head, it seemed loud enough to fill the whole room.
A hesitant touch on her hair, just a small, tickling brush. Fingers slid unhurriedly down a lock that fell innocently across her shoulder. Then those fingers were on her shoulder, warm and resting. Slowly he curved his hand around her arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth as if marveling at the texture of her skin. His hand caressed steadily down her arm, then back up, the edge of his thumb just barely brushing against the underside of her breast.
She couldn't help the way her skin seemed to tighten, the nipple hardening and pressing though the thin cloth of her nightshirt. It was purely reaction, and she knew that. That didn't explain why part of her was holding her breath, why there was this image shoved far back in her mind of...
Of something-No! She wouldn't let herself look at it!
His hand was still now, not full of tension, but resting calmly.
She felt the scratch of cloth against her breast, the cold air that was almost painful. She wondered if he saw it, too...
Then his hand was back on her shoulder, shaking her gently. "Aya, wake up."
She couldn't do it. She couldn't face him right now. Not in the dark, not with his hand on her. She just couldn't imagine looking at him in that moment without giving herself away. She lay still, letting herself shift limply under his hand.
"Aya, come on. I'm giving you the bed this time." A brighter voice, as if that would make her leap up and scramble for the elevated piece of furniture. She honestly couldn't make herself move. How strange, when before she could barely hold herself still. She wanted to fall asleep and quite possibly wake up two days ago. She wanted to be the Aya of two days ago.
"Aya," that sigh again. He stopped shaking her. She nearly arched like a scalded cat when his hands suddenly slid under her, gently lifting her up. She couldn't help but go rigid in his hold.
"It's okay," he whispered soothingly, clearly believing that she was just then waking up. "Go back to sleep, I'm just moving you to the bed..."
She wound her arms tightly around his neck, the move made seeming in pure reflex as he got up, his arms straining slightly, but strong and steady as he cradled her.
She turned her face into his shoulder, knowing that she was too close to him in that moment to have her head lifted.
"Why," she whispered, slightly choked from adrenaline as her heart seemed to have crawled into her throat.
He couldn't really shrug while holding her, but it was in his voice. "You prefer the bed. And I want you to get well." He gently laid her on the bed, sliding his hands out from under her, and not meaning to, but causing a shudder to shake her breath.
She found herself clinging inexplicably to his neck still, nearly unbalancing him when he tried to draw back. He looked at her curiously, reaching up gently and disengaging her hands. He placed them on her stomach, smiling at her with that same slight puzzlement.
Why had she done that? She wanted comfort. And she wanted to hide. And she wanted to cry when she realized how worried he was about her.
"I'm okay," she whispered, and now the smile was gone, replaced by a worried frown. This was why she had wanted to be asleep. There were no words that she could possibly say that he wouldn't see through.
"Aya, what is it?" He settled on the edge of the narrow bed, his hip next to hers, brushing slightly against it when she took a deep breath. She took a deep breath, wondering if he even noticed that he did these things. That he always moved to touch her whenever she was close enough. She didn't think he even realized half the time.
A hand over her hands as they rested on her stomach. She started, not remembering much about her dream, but recalling the distinct image of their hands entwined, of his palms hot against her knuckles. Her skin felt as if it was jumping slightly under his.
"Aya, come on. Talk to me," he pleaded gently.
She looked at him, biting her lip slowly then releasing it. She looked down at their hands. "Do you...Do you ever wonder if we did the right thing?"
TBC...