Such stubborn light in his eyes, over-taking the gentleness. His hand tightened around her wrist once more, but she wasn't trying to get free now. "But you want to," he said, "Right or wrong, some part of you wants this, wants to take that step...answer me at least that much."
Not a question. What would it really hurt? To speak out-loud what they both already knew. He wasn't going to back-off until he had at least this much from her. So she furrowed her brows as if in pain, made her tears real, and gasped, "Yes."
And then fury filled her, rebelling at the truth in that single innocent word. She shoved away from him, was up and out of the chair and three steps away before she realized she had moved. It was like a frame of action was missing, but the emotions still remained. They boiled within her, searing her with helplessness, and a peculiar sort of rage.
"Yes! Alright! I admit it! You're right, I want that step! I do!" She spun on him, glaring down at him as he steadied himself on his heels and remained kneeling by the chair. "Does that make you happy? To know that? And yes! I was thinking about you the other morning! I haven't thought about anyone or anything else for weeks now! And it's driving me crazy!"
He opened his mouth, and she lunged forward, only a step, but the message was clear. "No! Don't speak! You want the truth, right? Well, here it is! I want you. But I don't want to! Somehow...somehow-" she held her hands out to him with jerky movements, spreading them wide and looking down at them desperately, as if there was something there to see, some physical manifestation of guilt, like they might actually be stained with blood, rather than shaking with adrenaline.
"Somehow! You have infected me with this!—Whatever this is! Does it make you happy? To know I'm terrified, and confused, and my mind is tearing me apart with emotions I wish I didn't have!"
He flinched, wrapping his arms around his stomach and curling tighter around them, and she froze in shock at the slight twinge of vindication and pleasure that filled her chest, trying to twist her lips into a sneer while her heart recoiled in horror. She realized only then that that look of pain from him was what had driven her to speak such words. That some part of her wanted to strike out at him, and keep striking, until he reacted. Until she could see in his appearance the emotions she felt inside.
And it disgusted her so completely, she never would have thought that she was that type of person, the kind that could take pleasure in seeing others suffer. In seeing someone she loved suffer. She never, never would have believed it possible!
I...I hate myself. Oh, Aki, I hate myself, and not you!
She took one step, and then another. She fell to her knees beside him and lifted her hands, hesitated. Her hand hovered over his bowed head, his shoulder, and she realized he was shaking, he was crying.
She had made him cry.
Her hands shook, and with fresh tears on her face, she slowly rested them on him, one on his head, and one on his shoulder. He flinched, drawing in tighter.
"I'm so sorry. So-so sorry. Aya, oh god...oh god..." his voice was strained between too much emotion, and tears. He didn't even seem to realize what he was saying, it ran and bled together.
She bowed her head over his, clenching her fingers slightly as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears dripping and falling off her nose. They landed on her hand, his hair.
"Aki,' she whispered, slowly lowering her head and drawing her shoulders in close to her body. She pressed her face into his hair, dragging her hand up to cover her eyes and soaking her tears into his hair. She was leaning weakly against his shoulder now, her body curved over his. "Aki...I'm so sorry..."
He choked at that, made a bitter wet sound that shifted his body beneath hers. It might have been a laugh. Or a sob. "You're sorry?" Another sharp breath from him, and her hands tightened. "Why are you sorry? I'm the monster here! I shouldn't feel this way! I shouldn't try to make you feel this way! I know it's not right-I do! So-so why can't I make myself stop?"
She flinched, pressing closer to him, curling around him as best she could. These were her words, these were the words she had tried to hurt him with. And she had succeeded far past her expectations. She had hurt him. she had hurt herself.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed hard, wanting nothing more than to squeeze all the pain out of him, and make it her own. She never wanted to hurt him.
She rocked him slowly, back and forth, she rocked herself. But actions were not going to be enough this time. She had struck out at him with words, now words were possibly the only way she could smooth over the damage she had done.
She quailed, she had never been good at filtering her thoughts and feelings into language. But now...now she had to try. "You're not a monster." The words were soft, but real. Her face pressed into his hair, and she lifted it just enough to open her eyes. Though her gaze was distant and sightless. Her fingers tightened in his shirt, his skin. "I'm so sorry, Aki. I'm so sorry. This isn't your fault. I'm not sure it's anyone's fault. I don't blame you-"
"How can you not blame me? It is my fault!"
"Aki, no!" she turned her face back into his hair, nearly draped herself across his shoulders and soaked those disheveled gold locks with even more tears as she felt him continue to shake, to continue to draw breath far too quickly.
She didn't know what to say, she said the only thing that she could. "We'll get through this," she whispered. Then again, "We'll get through this." A truth. And then a promise. "I am never going to stop loving you."
She didn't have to think about what she was saying. She didn't have to construct her words. She simply spoke what she knew to be the unarguable truth. The tiny kernel within her that remained constant and unchanged while everything else shifted and rearranged.
A hiccuping breath, and she felt him go limp everywhere all at once. She sprawled even more across his back and he shifted slowly, just enough to get one hand free and slide it hesitantly over hers as it rested on his shoulder. She took it a step further and twined her fingers through his. They both seemed to be shaking.
And then he was moving again, turning towards her, she drew back to give him freedom of movement, but did not retreat. Did not let go.
When she was rational, she knew that she could not honestly blame him. falling in love with her-he could not have consciously chosen this path.
"My frustration gets the best of me sometimes, I'm sorry. And sometimes it's hard to remember that...you're not at fault here. Especially when..." she took a hard breath, "Especially when you can be so calm when I can't..."
He lifted his head, and she flinched at the wet mess of his face, the spikiness of his lashes. The way his blue eyes seemed to swim with pain, and vulnerability.
She imagined her face looked much the same, but she forced a tremulous smile anyway, reached out her free hand and pushed the fall of his bangs back, wiped away his tears. "You shouldn't cry," she whispered, "The world isn't right when Aki cries."
He closed his eyes and freed more tears, she caught them, too, and he turned his face gently into the cup of her palm. His lips pressed against her fingers, not a kiss, but she knew he tasted his own tears.
She tilted her head down and leaned forward. Her cheek pressed against his temple as her hand still cradled the opposite side of his face. Their hands were still intertwined, pressed between them in their half-embrace.
That one point of contact conveyed more gentleness than any full-hug could have. Her fingers flexed in his, and his returned the pressure.
"Then Aya has to stop crying," he returned haltingly, "Because I cry when she does..."
She hesitated, only then realizing that she was still dripping salt water on his cheek when he said that. She turned her face into his hair and let it soak up her tears. She took in deep breaths of his familiar scent, and felt it working quickly through her body, calming her nerves.
She heard his breath evening out, and oddly realized that he was doing the same. She thought that maybe it should feel odd, or strange, knowing that he was holding her close and taking in her scent...
And it did feel odd...
But in the same way that so much else about all this did.
He was regaining strength, rebuilding self, and confidence, and she could feel that determination stirring in him like a great sleeping dragon. Not yet fully awake. But soon. And instead of sparking her unease, it...settled her more. It spelled out more frustration and suggestive situations in the future, but it was still...him.
It was better than tears. Anything was better than his tears.
She wasn't surprised when he shifted, when his fingers turned and closed gently over hers. When he drew her hand up, almost steadily, and pressed a wet, tear-stained kiss to her knuckles. Leaving his mouth then to linger and sigh.
"I love you," he whispered.
And she soundlessly whispered the words back, because it was only the truth.
tbc...