The sound of the rain splashing against the window soothed the heavy silence that had descended the room over the pair.
Misaki felt him nuzzle her hair with his nose, sniffing her. His sigh was inaudible, but she sensed it with her body.
Had they made peace? His out-of-blue remark about him seeing her together with Hinata had been like a slap in her face. The words had vibrated with the shadow of the possessive streak he always had in the old days.
Yet deep down, in the darkest corners of her soul, Misaki was relieved and delighted by the evidence of his lingering feelings for her.
She popped her eyes open, an eyelash tickling his throat. He started to tighten his arms around her, but she dropped hers. After a minute, taking the hint, Usui let her go and stepped back.
The light was reflecting on his glasses, disguising his eyes.
She dug her nails into her palm, suddenly nervous.
"I suppose this is a goodbye then".
She forced her face to remain expressionless hearing his inquiring voice. The moment of warmth they had shared minutes ago seemed to have evaporated into the thin air. His mouth was a tight thin line.
She rummaged her brain for a suitable answer.
Yes, so long?
Farewell, it's been nice catching up?
Take care, I will think of you every time I feel a man's touch, when my defences are down?
She almost snickered. It was over. He was proud of her. She was grateful to him. No drama. The story was over.
"You're supposing right".
His eyes narrowed at her answer.
She turned on her heel determinedly and walked towards the couch, leaving him standing by the window. She picked up her purse from the couch and faced in his direction again, bracing herself for the last good-bye.
Suddenly she remembered.
"Oh", she opened her purse and impatiently prodded the corners inside with her hand, "I think you should have this back."
She finally fished out the small object that she had kept tucked away in her bed-linen drawer. For ten years she had not dared to touch it.
Her back still turned to him, she discreetly grasped the object in her hand tightly, silently bidding it adieu for the last time.
She walked to the unmoving statue by the window and held out her palm open for him to see. It was the engagement ring he had given to her on her eighteenth birthday.
"Here."
She breathed impatiently when he remained unresponsive. His eyes had flicked down to her palm for a second, before staring flatly at her face again.
"Takumi... take it." she said louder, a hint of desperation tinting her voice. She reached down for his right hand, ignoring the involuntary shudder the touch of his skin had elicited. She unfolded his long fingers and placed the ring onto his palm. She could not help but wonder at the contrast between the sizes of their hands.
A brief chuckle took her by surprise. A mirthless, flat laugh under his breath. He was studying the ring on his palm curiously, as if it were an alien object.
"Are you trying to completely destroy me, Auyzawa?"
The sound of his voice made her take a step back. The barely-concealed anger mingled with bitter disbelief.
"What exactly do you expect me to do with this?" His eyes were burning a hole through her.
"I don't..",
"I've always known you were cruel," the way he kept his tone smooth despite his evident fury rendered it frighteningly sinister "but this is over the top. Even from you".
His clasped the ring, holding it to his side.
She moved, but he took a step forward, preventing her from escaping.
"What do you think you're doing," the distance between them kept closing "appearing here unannounced, fucking thanking me for leaving you, unceremoniously handing me back the..", he shut his eyes tightly, the rest of the sentence getting stuck in his throat.
Despite the shock his words were causing her, she felt her own anger rise up her throat. She lifted her face boldly to his, taking advantage of the light falling on her face from the window, confronting him with her fury. She was not going to let him be the victim.
"What did you expect me to do?", she spat out, meeting his ferocious look "shrivel up and die? Hate you for the rest of my life?"
Damn this. She had to stop abruptly, looking away. Her eyes were welling up with reluctant tears. It was all coming back: the terror, panic, grief that had overcome her when she had finally come to terms with his disappearance. Those first months in autumn, when it became brutally clear that he had abandoned her. She had felt like she was going to die along with the yellowing leaves.
She cursed under her breath, trying to blink back her tears out of his sight. How could she have thought for a minute that this meeting could go smoothly, without opening old wounds?
His chest was rising in shallow inhales. His tight fist loosened, letting the ring slip on the white fluffy carpet soundlessly.
"I'm sorry." A nearly inaudible whisper.
She stole a glance. With his slumped shoulders, he looked defeated.
Unable to resist the urge to comfort him, she reached out for his hand again, grazing his knuckles with her fingers.
He turned his palm, enclosing her fingers around his. There was a look of urgency in his eyes, all trace of anger gone. He was staring at the glistening dampness in her eyes. He squeezed her hand.
"Please don't".
Before she could process what he was asking her – to not cry? To not go? - suddenly he exhaled sharply and grasping her side, turned her around.
He pushed her softly, making her press her back against the glass window with a thud. His forearms resting on the either side of her head, he had trapped her. Yet the pleading expression on his face was a sharp contrast with the dominant gesture. The strong sense of dejavu suddenly took her breath away.
The fireworks.
Those ridiculous costumes.
Her heart falling out of her throat as she confessed to him.
The warmth of his hand against her cheek.
His breathless voice.
I've been enduring a lot of things, and I can't phrase them short. Even now..
It could have been the sound of raindrops tapping unreservedly against the glass, so close to her ears that did it. Hot, weak tears trailed down, making their way to the corner of her mouth. She felt his thumb catch one, moisturizing her upper lip with it.
The kiss that followed felt so natural, Misaki wondered if the ten years had been a long dream, or an absurd nightmare. When his tongue tentatively caressed hers, he moaned softly and sealed the distance between them completely.
Returning the wet kiss, she tasted his hot tears. Was he kissing her to prevent her from seeing him crying?
All thoughts deserted Misaki's head as one of his hands travelled down her body to lift her up against his hips, her legs encircling him.
By the time the lightening illuminated the sky, the glass rattled dangerously against their movements.
His voice repeated her name like a prayer as he drove into her fervently, teeth grazing across her wet cheek, her jaw, down to her throat.
They were still fully dressed, his open trousers and her lifted skirt being the only indication to what they were doing.
With one hand holding her up, his other hand never stilled, franatically squeezing, kneading her breast, her waist, grasping her hand above her head.
Dazed by the unbelievable pleasure building inside her, she stroked his fringe aside, needing to look at him better. Her heart squeezed at the sight of his bare forehead. Unshielded by the wisp of hair, it made his face look endearing and innocent.
The glass shook loudly against her back. Misaki knew the rooms in this hotel had bullet-proof windows, but motioned Usui to move away from it anyway.
He stopped, removing them from the spot. Still planted deeply inside her, he sank down to his knees onto the carpet.
He threw his head back as she moved on top of him, straddling him, her insides milking him erotically. She whimpered in synch of her movements, her brain turning into a mush. His one hand slid up behind her, palm pressing against the small of her back, supporting her movements as he hissed against her throat.
The last coherent sensation Misaki felt was her knee brushing against the cold metal of the ring he had dropped earlier. The pleasure was so intense she could not keep herself astride anymore. Breaking the kiss with a bite on his lower lip, she dropped herself on her elbows, her spine arching out.
He groaned and pushed himself forward, pinning her down with his whole body. She dug her nails savagely into his thigh, the other hand grabbing the carpet to keep herself from crying out loud.
As his face levelled with hers, he deepened his thrusts, kissing her open-eyed, taking in her ecstasy-filled face.
His one arm cradled around her head, over her forehead, pushing back her hair as if to see her whole face more clearly, his eyes searching hers desperately.
"Have ever thought of me while doing this", his words were halted by another moan as he felt her walls squeeze him even more tightly.
Misaki tried to ignore the question, turning her head away, focusing instead on the incredible pleasure that his union generated.
He thrust harder.
"Answer me, Misaki", he pleaded desperately.
She gasped, turning her head to return his intense gaze.
What she did next surprised him. She took his face between both her palms, one thumb running along his clenched jawline.
"Yes", she whispered.
Takumi moaned at her answer, burying his face in the crook of her throat again.
"You have no idea how many times I've imagined doing this with you."
His voice sounded so wounded, so earnest Misaki tightened her embrace around him protectively.
"You've been in my dreams, in my nightmares.. Everywhere..", he was thrusting into her faster, making her throw her head back, her long raven hair splayed against the white carpet.
"You're in my bones, Misaki." His hand holding her forehead slid down to cradle her cheek softly, a stark contrast with the violent motions of his lower body. A painful moan escaping his throat, he cupped the front of her jaw and kissed her softly, lovingly, his thumb stroking under her chin.
Misaki's eyes fluttered open. She was at the edge and needed to see his face, to forever engrave the moment in her memory.
Locking her damp gaze with his, she moaned into his mouth, exploding around him like dynamite.
As she lay on top of him few minutes later, she felt him get on his knees, sliding out of her carefully.
She wanted to say something, but could not trust her voice.
Only when she felt his thumbs graze over her hips, she looked up, finding him staring at her there. Misaki blushed, knowing he had noticed the angry bluish bruises she had gotten the night before, when Hinata had grasped her by her hips.
Closing his eyes painfully, he laid on his back next to her on the carpet with his side touching hers, placing his forearms over his face. His cock, still erect, was glistening from her juices.
"Was he your first..", his voice hoarse.
"Yes."
His hands went up to his hair and the gesture broke her heart.
Feeling completely numb inside, she inched closer to his side, draping one arm over his torso.
His arms wrapped around her in response, holding her close. Settling her cheek over his chest, she gave herself in to deep slumber.