Flirt
She opened her mouth to attempt an answer, and a tall frosted glass layered with fruit and cream suddenly appeared before her. Magic. Both her and Aki jerked back, startled. She took in the unique sight of her brother looking uncharacteristically like a fish out of water, but could not truly appreciate it as she tried to remember how to breathe herself.
The waitress cast them apologetic looks only slightly twinged with amusement. "I'm really sorry," she apologized, placing a steaming pot of tea on the table, followed by the necessary utensils. "And I'm really sorry about the wait."
Aya didn't even really hear her, she nodded distractedly and watched Aki run both his hands through his hair, catching the gold locks between his fingers and holding them back from his face. She watched his hold tighten, pulling tighter, sharper, and she frowned.
Don't, Aki...
He let his hair go, and looked at their waitress. His face was blank. "Thank you," he said and Aya could not be sure that he meant it. She could not be sure that she even echoed it. She felt even further adrift than before.
The waitress performed the customary smile and nod, and then she was gone, and Aya couldn't be bothered to see where she went. Aki turned over the cup on her saucer and poured her tea. Mixed in two spoons of sugar. Then he poured his own, only mixing in one. He lifted his cup and took a sip, though it didn't seem to go down smoothly. He followed it with another sip, not giving up. And that's when she realized she was staring at him. She looked away.
And of course, he looked at her. The tea seemed to fortify him. There was a more aware level to his eyes now. A calmer shift. Only then did she realize how deeply out of control the situation had momentarily become. Only now, when a measure of focus had returned to his eyes.
It was a dangerous game they played. And it wasn't quite done.
"Why," he prompted a third time, his tone more even, though no less demanding. She knew he would stall the conversation at this point until she answered him, one way or the other.
She reached out a finger and placed it on the end of her dessert spoon. She tilted it one way, and then the other. She shifted her reasoning from one side to the other.
"Why did I kiss you?"
He didn't answer, it wasn't really a question for him, and they both knew it. She was asking herself.
"I...I honestly don't know." Why was there a sting in her eyes, like the want of tears suddenly? She didn't feel like crying.
A moment of silence, she didn't look at him. This was the only truth she knew.
"Shall we play our question game again," he inquired quietly.
A slightly metallic scratch as her finger slid off the spoon. She grit her teeth. "I'm telling the truth!"
Calmer now. "I believe you," he said, but he took another sip of his tea, and began anyway. "You said you felt like you were asleep-how do you mean?"
She pressed her lips together tightly. She didn't want to do this.
"Aya?"
"Exactly like I said," she burst out quietly. "I didn't consciously say, 'oh, I'm going to kiss Aki.' I just got up and...did it." Now she quieted. "I...there wasn't really any thoughts in my head, nothing pushing me...so how can I explain my reasons why? I don't know!"
"I believe you," he repeated.
"So why do this?" She really didn't understand him. Or herself. She couldn't even think straight.
He placed his cup on the saucer and took up the teapot again. She hadn't even touched her tea. Or her parfait. She didn't particularly want it.
"Because there is a reason, even if you aren't consciously aware of it now," he explained logically, and she frowned.
There was a reason. She had thought of reasons that night. What had she thought? "I wanted to understand you. I wanted to understand why you...felt like that about me?" Was that the reason? No, something about it felt like an excuse...
"And that's another thing," he said with that same unnerving serenity. "How did you even find out I am in love with you?"
Oh, hell no. She stared at him with wide eyes and knew she wasn't going to answer that question. No force in the universe could push that truth past her lips.
A slight smile, his eyes were still dark. "Don't worry, we'll come back to that question later. Now, you kissed me...because you wanted to understand me?"
When he said it like that-it sounded stupid. Like a weak attempt at self-deception that didn't work at all.
She didn't have a better answer.
"Yes..."
"Do you?"
She furrowed her eyebrows. "Do I what?"
He tilted his chin down slightly, making his words nearly a breath, "Understand me."
He was teasing her!
"No," she snapped, "I don't understand you at all!"
Now he tilted his head back. "I think what you're having a real problem with is that you do. You do understand me, exactly in the ways that I understand you."
There he went again! Speaking one thing and meaning another! She hated when he did that! She hated this game that wasn't a game!
"Stop doing that," she whispered, and he raised his eyebrows inquiringly. Mock-inquiry.
"Don't, Aki. You know what!" she echoed and mocked him right back.
He smiled gently. Then he reached across the table and...took her parfait. She stared at him. "It tastes better when it's cold," he said by way of explanation.
She hadn't really wanted it anymore, but seeing him take it made her want to reach out and take it back. He slid his hand back for the spoon, and she slammed her own down over it. Not even thinking. He looked at her curiously, but did not pull back his hand.
After a long moment where she wondered what exactly she was doing, and why it mattered, she slowly lifted up the spoon and gave it to him. Her fingers didn't want to quite let go.
His pull back to his own side was cautious...That wasn't quite the right word. She had no idea what he was thinking. He scooped out a small bite of the dessert and slid it into his mouth. His eyelashes half-lowered but did not close completely. It was like he wanted to close his eyes and focus on the taste, but he couldn't force himself to stop watching her.
why?
He drew the spoon out of his mouth slowly, and she saw his tongue follow along the curve of the scoop. "This is really good," he said. He picked a strawberry slice off the top and popped it into his mouth. Cream had gotten on his fingertips, and she watched him slowly bring them back to his lips and suck them clean.
There was a strange sort of trembling deep in her stomach. And the memory of his mouth on her...
Her hands curled into fists.
"Do you want some?"
Her eyes shot up to his, wide with just the beginnings of comprehending those words. But he was holding the spoon out to her invitingly, pure innocence in his eyes. "I think you'll like it."
Okay...was he flirting with her? She really couldn't tell.
"Come on, Aya, one little taste? You won't regret it, I promise."
She frowned hard at him, hearing the definite note of tease to his voice now. His words had taken on the tone of something that should be whispered in the dark, of lips brushing tantalizingly over an ear. When she heard it, she had an image of exactly that. Of him, pressed against her side in the dark, warm fingers resting on her throat as his mouth formed words that brushed against the sensitive shell of her ear. She shuddered.
He continued to hold the dessert out to her, tilting his head. She reached for the spoon, but he quickly drew it back. "Ah-ah," he murmured, then leaned further over the table to bring the spoon closer to her mouth.
This was beginning to get ridiculous. She leaned forward and parted her lips while reaching for his hand at the same time. She allowed him to hold it, but she needed to control it. He didn't protest this compromise, allowed her to guide his hand.
It was only as the spoon was drawing slowly back across her lower lip that she realized that her hand was holding his around the long handle, and there was intimacy here.
She quickly let go of his hand and nearly choked on the cream when she swallowed. She didn't taste it. It didn't exist. She didn't even notice as she watched his eyes turn blatantly lustful, he brought the spoon directly back to his mouth and licked the last traces of the cream away from it. And whatever traces of her taste that still remained.
An indirect kiss.
He returned to the parfait for more. "Speaking of kisses," he picked up again as if they had never been interrupted. "We still have yet to get to the bottom of yours."
After the roller-coaster of emotions, half of which she wasn't even willing to name, she could barely conjure up a reaction for him. She picked up her now cold tea just to give her hands something to do besides shake. Or clutch at her hair. She took a sip and flinched at the coldness. Tea wasn't meant to be cold. She didn't understand iced tea at all. She placed the cup down again, but left her hand on it.
"What is there to get at? I already told you, Aki. I don't know." Her response was succinct now. She flicked her eyes to her parfait and wanted it back. But she wasn't going to ask. Letting him have it did not seem quite as bad as asking for it back. Somehow.
She was sick of all the double meanings. She was even beginning to second-guess herself.
tbc...