After her devastating mental confession, she was strangely calm. She finished dressing, combed her hair. And calmly left the bathroom. Aki smiled at her when she emerged, and she returned it quickly.
She didn't understand the twinge of guilt she felt when she looked at him. So she pushed it away. She had made up her mind.
( ) *
"Rei?" She had waited until closing, until there was no room for further conversation, and they were both out the door.
He paused, looking at her curiously, and just a little hopefully. She chose to ignore it.
"I don't have any plans Friday, so I'd be happy to go with you to Shiori's party."
He brightened, looking very cute suddenly. And still she didn't react. Didn't feel. "That's great! How about I pick you up Friday at seven?"
She hesitated, but didn't allow herself to consider why. She grinned. "Great! Here's my address."
They left with cheerful waves and goodbyes, and Aya stepped through the glass doors, smiling at Aki when he pushed away from the wall. There was a cold, sharp weight in her stomach, but she didn't allow herself time to consider that either.
"I'm going out Friday night," she said calmly.
He stopped in his steps, turned to look at her. But she kept walking, her eyes unmoved as they stared at the path ahead of her.
You are my brother, Aki. And this is a truth you're going to have to get used to.
( ) *
Aki was sulking. He knew he was sulking. He knew sulking was a pointless gesture when there was no one there to see it.
But the alternative was throwing a childish temper tantrum. At least, with the sulking he was only giving himself a headache.
I'd like to give that bastard one, he thought darkly. That 'darkness' existing only to mask the hurt writhing inside him.
I have no right.
No right to feel this way.
I have no claim on her, not in this.
He understood that on the level of smarts and logic. But on the level of emotion, he was kicking and screaming like a child. Knowing something and honestly feeling it were two very separate things.
So while he knew his jealousy was unjustified, he still couldn't turn it off.
Time was crawling. And distractions just weren't working. There wasn't a written word strong enough to hold his attention right now, and every absurd little song on the radio twisted right around to loop over his heart, and then pull tighter like a noose.
Aki plopped himself down on the futon, switched on the TV with a decisive click, and tried to force himself to pay attention to something besides the scenarios circling like vultures in his head.
It didn't work.
TBC...