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— Intentions —
19# - Hesitant Recesses
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"It's strange how complicated we can make things just to avoid showing what we feel."
― E.M. Remarque
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— U. Takumi
Mood shifts weren't unusual to regular individuals. It could happen in a blink of an eye, as much as during a long lapse of time. The reason triggering it was obvious in most case, even to the mere bystander. I saw all kind of those situations; from the simple gesture misinterpreted, to a memory setting the motion. It was natural —even human.
And yet, I've never been affected by any alterations of those people surrounding me. Purely witnessed them with detached indifference, my own emotions steady and untouched.
Until her.
I felt it, as soon as my gaze dropped on hers, catching her off guard. Worry, fear and apprehension embedded her wavering gaze. And then, all my smugness flew through the window. My interest in the award vanished with each claps of the onlookers, the supportive cheers making my insides cringe.
I just wanted to jump down of the stage and run after her. But I knew what was the wiser thing to do.
Thus, I smiled.
I smiled accordingly to what the society expected from me.
I smiled as the other applicants were awarded their prize, their newfound fame on line.
I smiled —again— as I sat on this hard chair. And even if that chair appeared to be damn elegant, an white upholstery dressing it where fresh and splendid flowers adorned the headrest and veiled the back of it; it still was rigid and uncomfortable underneath all appearances.
Plausibly some cheap plastic since it creaked with every moves I made.
And its conflicting nature was a great illustration of my ambivalence; the genuine smile, the joy and confidence in my demeanor. It was all a credible illusion the outsiders were tricked by, deceived by my appearances and their biased perception. They saw what they expected more than anything else. And that was a humans' flaw.
They mastered the art of denial without even having to study it.
No more than a quarter of an hour later, she was back in her seat. In her eyes were only a remnant left of what used to put me on the very edge.
My composure settled back, my tense body easing with every smile she gave me later in the night. With every laugh she graced me, and all the words she whispered in my ears, I grew back to the one I was, when I was in her company.
Relaxed.
But still, I was no fool.
The other guests were gone when we reached our table. I made her sit down and took the one next to her. Curling my hands around her chair's leg, I easily pulled it to me, forcing her to face me.
"So?" I asked.
Her eyes gazed up at me with wariness. Then, she threw me a tentative smile. "So what?"
"Is there anything you want?"
A slight frown marred her features. Then, a pink hue started to creep up her cheeks and she looked down, avoiding my stare.
"What does that mean?" I grinned. "Don't tell me you're thinking of something inappropriate..."
She kept averting her gaze with a whisk of her head. She crossed her arms over her chest and with the loveliest purse of her soft lips, she countered with an unchecked tone.
"You're misinterpreting my acts, Usui."
Playing hard to get, huh.
I chuckled, because she was adorable. The way she was biting her lips when she looked at me earlier, or even how her blush crept up to her ears... They spoke volumes of her hidden thoughts.
I stood up and playfully pulled her with me. She resisted, lowering all her weight on the chair but I took her by surprise when I dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek. She gasped and making the most of her shock, I hauled her up into my arms.
"What about we go back home and you tell me about it?" I suggested with a grin.
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Back to the Residence, she stepped inside the elevator and pushed a single floor button.
Twenty-two, the top floors.
And that meant every confirmation I ever wanted. It stirred every nerves in my tensed muscles, sparkling fire within me. Wrapping her into a warm embrace, I braced myself for the elevator's hold-up. Unexpectedly, I found her all stiff and unresponsive. My flirtatious demeanor instantly dropped, filling with reasonable worry instead.
I didn't imagine her grief from earlier, after all. And her trembling fingers as she pushed the elevator's command were an evidence I failed to notice earlier. My jaw clenched tight, as I was riled over my own selfishness. I was mindful to ease it back before speaking.
"Nervous?" I cooed in her ear. My voice was all gruff, my dry mouth being the cause. Rubbing her arms as she stood against me, she buried her face in the crook of my neck and took a shaky breath. When she jerked her head side to side, to answer 'no' to my question, I felt her body shudder under my touch, and that didn't sit well with me. I hated the world for giving her reasons to distress and eventually become that wound-up.
"Afraid of me?" I continued with my raspy tone. She shook her head no again.
I pulled back and lifted her chin with the back of my fingers. Teary pools of honeyed amber peered up at me with disquiet panic.
I've always pictured her with her rare but dazzling smiles, her angry but adorable scowls, her frowns, her laughs... her peaceful face while she slept in my arms...
But never had I ever witnessed her tears. Something stirred inside of me; I never wanted to see her cry again.
My expression must've hit her, because she hastily brushed them with the inside of her wrists and gave me something as close as possible to a smile.
"It's nothing, I just need one minute," she turned around, her hands coming up to dry the tears left away.
My heart painfully constricted in my chest. I tried to clear my voice, but to no avail did I succeed as something akin to a lump was obstructing my throat.
I took her back in my arms, her back hitting my chest. She suddenly froze, and then, something must've broke because a sharp sob resounded in the closed space. She dropped to the floor for a reason I couldn't pinpoint, before it dawned on me.
Seeing someone I cherished that much on her knees, silently crying, made me feel both dejected and lost for words.
I had never learnt to comfort someone in my life. I never cared enough to do so. So here I was, entirely ignorant and disgusted at myself for being so inoperative. My inability provided the knowledge of my weakness.
Two endless seconds ticked away before the lift opened on my floor. She was oblivious to it, still a forlorn mess on the floor.
Afraid that the doors would close on us, I quickly picked her up in my arms, carrying her to the end of the corridor. She was as light as a feather, curled into my frame all too perfectly despite the situation. Her hands clutched my shirt as she nudged her nose against my chest in her cries. Whispering her sweet nothings, I left a lingering kiss on top of her hair and made it to my door.
I pushed it open after unlocking it, not bothering with the lights. Putting her down the closest surface I found —which was the kitchen counter—, letting her sit upon it. Her legs were dangling in the air and I shortly wedged myself in between.
Wordlessly, my hands came to slide her strappy —and most likely painful— heels off as she continued to sniffle, her forehead propped on my shoulder. They fell on the floor with a muted thud. The noise must've made us cringe, and yet, it felt so far away. All we could hear was the sound of our own breaths. Disentangling her hair, I removed the several pins she had riveted there. Her up-do spilled down into smooth curls, brushing her shoulders and bare neck. For a silent moment, I kept threading her silky hair, effortlessly running my fingers through the dark chocolate strands.
Her hands were still clutched in my shirt as I moved to them. I gently covered her stiff fists, unclenching them, and filled the spaces with my own fingers.
"What's wrong, sweetheart," I murmured, kissing her knuckles.
She swallowed, her head lifting up with reluctance. Her eyes never met mine, though. They were lost in the dark, lost in her thoughts.
She broke the silence with a whisper. "Why do you even like me?"
"Love you," I quietly rectified. She tensed, her sobs no longer echoing in the silent apartment.
I tipped her head in my direction, and once again, she averted her gaze. "You shouldn't love me," she said.
It was as if she was trying to convince herself.
"Why not?"
"Because you don't know me," she murmured, her voice breaking. The thing with Misaki was that when she lied, she wouldn't ever look into that person's eyes. She was that simple to see through in that prospect. And for almost ten minutes, not once had I seen those amber and usually full of confidence eyes of hers.
Not once.
"Is that an heartfelt challenge to me, Misaki?" I lowly chuckled.
"Do you really think I do not know you at all?... The way you smile when you watch the sun set, the gentleness in your eyes when you look over someone you love... Or even how you're hardworking and selfless, always putting others before yourself."
I smiled at my next thought. "How blatant your lies can be..."
My words flowed like syrupy honey, trickling all over our unchecked fears. I kept going, my voice lower than a whisper.
"How you would hardly fall for anyone, but when you do... You'd fall hard... For me."
A growl of frustration rumbled from her sore throat.
"You don't even know whether I like you or not!" she fiercely worded, her face turning into an hurtful expression full of bitter tears. "I don't like you..."
She was frustrated that her lies didn't come across to me, couldn't protect me.
Frustrated that she couldn't even be persuaded of her own lies.
Frustrated that she didn't like me, because in truth, what she felt was love.
"Do you want a proof that, perhaps, you don't like me?" I offered.
Finally, our eyes collided. "Do it," her lips moved with defiance.
And yet, her eyes pleaded me the complete opposite.
Please, prove me wrong, they silently prayed.
Holding her gaze, my palms firmly came to hold her hips and I pressed her against me. Picking her up from the counter, her legs circled my waist as I leisurely moved us to my living room table. My eyes were still on hers, and though I read perplexed resolution in her ambers', I dared her to turn away. Of course, as she always took challenge very seriously, she didn't.
Removing all the reports and stacks of papers with a swift motion, they mercilessly cluttered to the floor. I smiled to myself, because that was going to be such a pain to retrieve and re-sort them later. But this single moment would be worth all the lost minutes there.
I laid her down the cleared table and she shivered from the coldness of the glass against her skin. She was such a sight, sprawled on my table as she stared up at me. Her hair waving alike to a calm river, her sinful red gown clashed brilliantly with her porcelain skin.
She was perfection.
Softly, her eyes lingered on my features. They weren't full of terror, of fear or even of apprehension.
They were pure tenderness, and she didn't even realize it.
She had no reason to fear me.
She was quietly smiling, and she didn't even realize that.
She felt safe with me.
Her hand came up to my forehead, and with just one touch, she soothed my frown away. And she never realized that.
She loved me.
"What are you—..." My lips closed on hers before she could finish her sentence. Softly, I suckled on her bottom lip, and bit it. She gasped, parting her sweet lips and taking her warm tongue with mine. I slowly tasted her and she melted. We kissed with an unhurried pace, pulling away only to start over and over again, drowning in our earnest emotions.
"Showing you how much you love me," I whispered. My hands were roaming the length of her legs, pulling them up. Leaning back, I gradually bit them as I perched them on the edge of the table, her knees open and bent as I warmed her skin with the contact.
Her dress hiked up her thighs, showing her white laces and garters but I didn't mind. My eyes were on hers, unwavering and determined to prove my point.
I drifted back down. My forearms closing on either side of her head, I seized her luscious mouth once more.
And again. Again. Again. Never could have enough of her.
"Do you understand now?" I growled between two kisses.
"Not yet," she murmured.
"It's alright," I lowly hummed before resuming, my lips brushing hers. "I wouldn't mind doing this my whole life."
And I wouldn't let her go until the light of recognition washed her uncertainty away.
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Author's note:
School has started, I'm one week into it and it's almost hell. And yet, I can't just forget you guys!
Much love, and a SUPER thanks to everyone, for following chapter by chapter this story that is (still) building and growing!