Unlike Poles | Four
Out of place is not a feeling Kiba is accustomed to, and he doesn't like it.
The tie around his neck, the soft glow of the chandeliers, the politely murmuring crowd, the soothing classical music in the background—it's an environment entirely at odds with the night scene he so often frequents.
He's convinced every damn person in this place is staring, willing him to go back to where he comes from—where the paint is peeling off the walls of his flat, where he earns his living under the unforgiving sun, where his nights of sinful revelry remind him that life is worth living. It pisses him off that all these "ladies and gentlemen" can judge him so easily when they live in the lap of luxury each day.
"Kiba, don't be so tense; no one's watching." Hinata's tentative whisper snaps Kiba back to the current situation, which is admittedly not entirely unpleasant. He can't claim to have prior experience in waltzing, or slow dancing, or whatever it is they're doing, but the mere fact that his arm is around Hinata's waist and they're less than two inches from each other is oddly thrilling.
"I swear, your father must have warned all of them to ostracize me," he hisses back. "Oh, and I find it hard to believe I'm your only male friend whom you can rely on when you need a date for a fancy dinner." He quirks an eyebrow at her in amusement.
Hinata shrugs, looking very pretty—and desirable, Kiba must add, approving of the exposed cleavage—in her off-shoulder, pale purple gown. "I don't have many male friends at all," she explains, smiling somewhat apologetically.
"I mean, I'd understand if you called me because I'm your hottest male friend, but hearing that you chose me because you had no other choice isn't very flattering," Kiba teases, hoping to elicit that appealing half-smile from her again.
It's ridiculous, really, the effect this nervous little thing has on him. Maybe it's because she's so different from the women he usually encounters—not brainless, or loose, or desperate. Or maybe opposites attract, and they are opposites in every sense of the word. Whatever it is, Hinata is about the only person in the room Kiba doesn't hate with an admittedly unjustified passion.
Kiba sighs inwardly. Rationalizing has never been his strong suit; he'll go by instinct, just as he always has.
OoOoO
"So how did you meet Hinata?"
Not a very difficult question, but Kiba swallows nervously, suddenly very conscious of his arm draped casually over Hinata's shoulder's and the proximity of her body to his. His discomfort magnifies hundredfold when he meets the unnervingly sharp eyes of Hyuga Hiashi.
"She was checking out one of your company buildings and I was inside, so we started talking," Kiba replies, managing to keep a perfectly straight face even though he actually means I tried to chat her up in the hopes of bringing her home. Beside him, Hinata's pleasant smile doesn't waver in the slightest and she looks completely comfortable with the fact that he's being mercilessly interrogated by her father.
"Then when she got kinda sick, I let her shower in my house and walked her back," Kiba explains cheerfully—although his grin swiftly fades he catches Hiashi's sudden stiffening. "But I didn't do anything! I just fell asleep while she bathed, and had a weird dream, but I honestly didn't peek at her or anything!" His laugh is obviously forced and he moves on anxiously.
"Yeah, the rest of our meetings were just normal talking and stuff, because I happen to go to that building your company owns a lot." Kiba offers up an innocent smile. "And we went out for dinner a few times, just friendly dinners." He nods, hoping he looks more self-assured that he's currently feeling. It doesn't help that he doesn't know how to translate his coarse, informal speech into polite conversation, a glaring error that magnifies with every word he utters.
"Well," Hiashi says slowly, as if assessing Kiba's value, "if my daughter comes to any harm, be very afraid, young man." With that final cryptic warning, the tall man abruptly turns away to speak to another pale-eyed guest, and Kiba is clearly dismissed, but not before—and he swears it happened—Hiashi smiles very faintly at Hinata.
The moment he's gone, Hinata drags Kiba out onto the balcony for some air, her face steadily darkening, a sharp contrast to her poise a mere heartbeat ago. "He thinks we're going out, like dating!" She sounds absolutely mortified, but he takes it as a good sign that she hasn't let go of his wrist yet.
"Well, I wouldn't say that's a bad idea, kitten." The words slip out, all casual-like, but Kiba is suddenly as tense as a coiled spring. The light from the ballroom illuminates Hinata's face softly, so he can clearly see as her expression shifts from utter confusion to sudden surprise.
She looks up at him, wary again. "What's not a bad idea?" Her voice is just a whisper, filled with doubt.
Kiba takes her hand in his, and despite his smile, it's a tremendous effort to keep his voice from wavering. "You and me, that's what. Y'know, the first time I saw you, I just want to protect you, and- heck, I'm not good at this shit, but maybe you could give us a chance. I'm not rich and I don't have the best track record with long-term relationships, and my mind is always in the gutter, but I'm really serious about this. I can envision us being permanent, y'know?"
Hinata is silent for a heartbeat before a muffled giggle slips out of her. "Was that a confession?" Then she bursts into tears and throws herself into Kiba's arms.
"Was that an okay?" Kiba asks, feeling bewildered. "Don't cry, kitten." He rests his chin on the top of her head and is just beginning to stroke her hair when she nods once, quickly, against his chest.
Kiba lets out a huge breath, unable to stop a grin from forming, and leans down to whisper in her ear. "We'll make this work, alright? I can be an ass sometimes even when I try not to be, so you should yell at me whenever you think I need yelling at."
Hinata giggles at the brush of air against her ear, suddenly turning to press her lips lightly against Kiba's cheek in one swift motion. Almost immediately, her cheeks turn pink again.
Her makeup is all but ruined and the front of his suit is wet with her tears, but they stay locked together in a tight embrace for a long while. When they finally step away from the balcony and back into the light of the party together, they are hand-in-hand and smiling with joy.