Summer's Eve

by floratome

Heiji and Kazuha attend their prom separately as a celebration of their graduating year. During the dance, an evident rift of tension and jealousy seems to be driven into them after their infamous bickering sessions. However, the magic of summer's eve brings upon new beginnings and cherished memories, as they find themselves drawn back together like they always had since childhood.

2. Chapter 2

Her flushed face looked up at me. Those curious, unwavering green eyes made my ears warm, and what I just said began to sink in.

"Pfft, I mean, if you want," I looked away quickly, attempting to salvage my remaining pride. "Like, if you want me to make you feel better since you seem to need me so much, I guess you can come to hang out and I can keep you company or whatever…" Trailing off, I timidly looked back with a blushing face.

"..Okay let's go," Kazuha said. Her voice didn't seem so trembly anymore but almost revitalized. Did she sound excited or was that just my imagination?

I was a bit taken aback by her answer. Normally, Kazuha would deny profusely that she needed me or tease me nonstop about how much I needed her, which was not true because it was the opposite. I don't need her like she needs me, obviously.

Then I got a little angry. If she was so indifferent about going to a guy's house, how would I ever keep her safe from the bad guys? Why is she so casual about it?

I turned back to glare at her, only to see a forlorn expression upon her moonlit face, so abruptly vulnerable that I felt my insides tingle and my hands grow hot. Damn, if she actually let herself look so helpless in front of any guy, I don't know how I can protect her from those disgusting wolves.

In a moment of hastily compiled courage, I took her by the arm, and we began walking around the side of the school building to my motorcycle. As we trudged towards the parking lot, Kazuha pulled her arm out of hand. I thought she was uncomfortable with me holding her arm, but instead, she slipped her hand in mine and we interlaced fingers, her touch sending electricity sparks coursing through my veins. My back was towards her, thank goodness, otherwise, she would see my burning red face, like red hot coals. I almost had to stop in my tracks to catch my breath. Where our hands made contact, my palms began to sweat. My self-consciousness was like a drug digging into the corners of my brain as I willed and pleaded with the heavens for my limbs to stop sweating, just for today so I could keep face. With each passing moment, I became acutely aware of how intimate this was.

I nearly jumped when Kazuha talked, because of my now heightened senses. "What about your friends? Shouldn't you say goodbye first?" Her voice was small, almost a whisper in the wind.

"I can text them after," I did not want to think about anyone else right now. We fell back in silence, the only sound being our footsteps crackling like fire against the gravelly concrete floor. Her hand was still in mine, delicate like fragile, petal-soft silk I couldn't afford to crease, but also one I never want to let go of. As we got closer to the parking lot, the rumbling heart of the party grew louder, distant rhythms and singing, like muffled radio scuffles. Everything was bathed in indigo, cast by the pure periwinkle sky covering the top of our lustful little world. She was still there, I could feel her, hear her breathing, smell her tropical shampoo. What is that, mango? No...it smells more like ripe berry, like strawberry. She still held on to me, as we made our way past cars and irritatingly bright streetlights. There, in the corner, was my motorcycle. It was an element of our past relationship, before today. Because I know today, something changed between us. I dreaded going to the motorcycle because this moment could be taken away from us forever. But at the same time, I was curious about what could await me at the destination.

I helped her in the back and sat in the front, and put on my helmet. After Kazuha put on hers over her messy ponytail, she wrapped her snow-white arms around my stomach. From the corner of my eye, I can see her exposed white thighs against my leg, her pink dress lifted from her sitting position. Her body was against mine. I could feel her, too much of her, pressed against me and driving me senseless. Usually, this did not make me so nervous. Is it because today, she's wearing a dress? Or is it because she held my hand?

I could barely concentrate on my driving, the other half of my mind focused on her body, her presence, embracing me like warm, dripping gold.