"Feels alright?" Keita asks. His voice is just as warm as his hands are. "Is it here or somewhere else?"

He's massaging her feet.

Heels hurt.

"You're doing good," Kotoko says, blushing when he looks at her with that gaze. Eye contact with Keita is intense. He likes to stare at her, quite a bit. Kotoko has never shied away from anyone's gaze like she does with Keita. In the case of Irie's, it is the opposite, she could stare into his eyes for, well, forever.

"Stay focused, Kotoko," Keita says, his voice drifting up to her ears. The sound of his voice is quite low. It sends a tingle through her, a little shiver. She feels a bit hazy. Dreamy.

She blinks at Keita, sees his hair shadowing half his face, his eyes, downcast. His lashes are so long, so long and gorgeous.

Keita is a peculiar man, Kotoko thinks. In public, he acts like she's a nuisance, acts like she and everything else in the world is such a bother, but when they're alone, he's always doting on her. Always calling. Always staring. Always…touching.

Even now, as his large hands work their way on her heels, the soles of her feet, her ankles, her calves… Kotoko feels hazy.

Why is this even happening?

Keita glances up at her for a moment. "You've got the smallest ankles I've ever seen," he comments, squeezing it, slightly.

Kotoko smiles. "And you've got the biggest hands I've ever seen," she replies, eyes drifting shut when Keita lets his hands brush up her legs. His touch, barely there and fleeting, sets her skin alight. Makes her feel so sensitive. Makes her feel so...something.

Keita is quiet, his warm hands moving more than his mouth.

"Do your feet still hurt?" He asks, voice a little scratchy, low, "I tried the best I could."

"They feel better," Kotoko tells him, glancing away. She feels her face heat up, for no apparent reason. "Thank you, Keita."

Keita hums. "Of course."

It's quiet for a bit. For too long.

So long that Kotoko feels her eyes drifting shut. Feels her body, her limbs, her eyes, grow heavy.

Sleepy.

Keita won't mind, a part of her thinks, the small part of her that's active enough to make thoughts. He won't mind if she falls asleep.

She feels a feeling in her heart bloom for a second, that giddy, comfy feeling that makes you feel secure, safe, loved.

Keita smiles. Brushes a strand of her hair away from her face, Kotoko thinks. His hands, warm and hot at her feet, are now cool and gentle at her face.

She must be dreaming.

Keita would never kiss her. He wouldn't. He wouldn't, he wouldn't, he wouldn't, and he didn't.

Because the love that Keita has for her isn't anything real, it's nothing special, it isn't even love.

So why then, does Kotoko want his love so badly? Why does she open her eyes at the soft press of his lips to hers? Why does she kiss him back? Why does she relish in that ooey-gooey feeling stirring in her stomach, the feeling that makes her feel tingly and good inside?

He kisses her, once, twice, again, and so much, so many kisses that Kotoko feels dizzy, feels shivery, and she does, shiver, when he swipes his tongue against hers just for that one spilt second.

She stifles an embarrassing sound when he sucks on her tongue, tingles erupting all over her body. It's all too much. The intensity of his kisses, the smell of his cologne, the one she'd been smelling all this time, only now she's engulfed in it. It's so much, too much, the weight of him, his hands drifting through her hair, cupping her chin.

"Keita," she whispers, and he stops, blinks at her, eyes warm and dark.

"What is it?"

"Do you really love me?"

She stares back this time, doesn't shy away from his gaze. Doesn't look away, keeps staring, feels herself drift deep in his eyes, his calm, steady gaze.

Kotoko sees him move closer, sees his eyes close, feels his lips again, hotter this time, heavier this time.

It is a shame she wants him to continue.

Keita does not continue. Her lips miss him, need his warmth back on them again.

"That's my answer," he breathes, but even as he speaks, all Kotoko can do is glance at his lips.

"What's yours?" He says, sitting up. They are still sitting at his couch, still at Keita's place.

"My answer," Kotoko starts, dumbly. "Is…"

A moment passes, and then another.

"Go on," Keita says, gently. "Tell me, Kotoko."

"I — I don't know," she whispers, looking down. "I don't know."

Keita is quiet. She's about to speak up, about to say 'I'm sorry', when Keita talks.

"Just give me a straight answer. That's all I need, Kotoko," he says, voice getting louder. "I'll keep asking you until you give me a straight answer," he repeats.

"I've waited for you, all this time," Keita continues, an earnest look appearing in his eyes. "I told you, I'll be here for you."

"But, Keita — "

"And I'm here for you, aren't I? I'm right here, I won't leave you."

"Keita — "

"You don't have to be unhappy anymore, Kotoko. You won't ever be unhappy with me. I'm telling you right now, I love you."

She falls quiet.

"I'll be here for you, whenever you need me. I just need an answer from you," he finishes, talking quietly, slowly. "Tell me."

"I don't know," Kotoko admits, again.

"Don't know what? Your own feelings?"

"It's not that, I — I know my feelings, but, I don't — I don't know, it's confusing — "

She stops, pauses when he grabs her hands, squeezes them, gently, softly, but firmly.

"I know it's confusing, Kotoko, I know that better than anyone. Just think about it, just give this a chance. Aren't you happier with me? Don't I make you happy?"

"I do feel happier, you do make me feel happy," Kotoko says, the words coming out in a rush, "but — "

"What's the but? What are you afraid of? Don't be afraid of anything, Kotoko, don't be afraid of him, he won't do anything. He...doesn't even love you," Keita says, squinting, glaring, shaking his head, expression incredulous. "He doesn't know what he's doing, treating you like that. Be with me, we'll be happier, be with me instead."

"Keita — "

He kisses her, makes her melt into the kiss, makes her melt into his arms, loosens up some of the tension, makes her forget the whole convo until he pulls away, stares into her eyes with his determined look.

"Don't cry, Kotoko," he says, voice barely above a whisper, his hand brushing away the tears she didn't even know were escaping form her eye. "I'm here for you."

"My answer," she says, finally, looking away from his eyes. "It's not what you want to hear, Keita."