The atmosphere, dark and warm, filled with their shaking breath; her breasts pressed firmly to his chest in such a tantalizing way, the softest skin on her body exposed to him, the way he's cradling her like he'll never let go; she has to admit it's better than anything she could imagine.

No one else ignites every kind of fire inside of her. An inferno, a dancing candle, a steady blaze, an ever-burning flame, lasting despite, despite, despite. Despite whatever weakness they fall into, despite the hatred that's embedded into their words, despite their denial of the clearest truth.

Right now, she is not who she was last month. Last week. Even yesterday, hell, even an hour ago.

Here she is, in the arms of the boy (who is more of a man now, with the way he looks…) in the most intimate state she has ever been in in her life. And she wants nothing more in the world than to stay here.

She has never felt sexier, never felt as beautiful as this moment — his hand rubs at the dip of her waist, and she trembles — she believes she is beautiful because she's never seen this level of admiration in his eyes.

How gorgeous is this?

And then she can't deny it anymore.

The lock to her own heart crumbles.

His smirk fades into the slightest smile as his stare deepens. Did the same happen with him? She's not sure — she tries to find the answer in his eyes, but the glint in them tells her that he's waiting for her command.

He'll do just about anything she could ask of him right now. And knowing him, he'll want to do it good and right.

What does she want? For him to confess first? To make her orgasm? To take her and do whatever the hell he wants?

Honestly, she wants it all. For once, it's not scary to accept such an overwhelming truth that's driving her up the edge of sanity right now.

She can feel her own pulse throbbing on his thigh. She tightens her arms around his shoulders and bites her lip. She gives into the flow of wherever, whoever they are now.

"I want you to touch me until I come, Ranma."

Ever so gently (and ever so quick) he lowers her down onto her bed, her head cradled by her fluffy pillows. Her comforter feels extra cozy. He crawls over her, the anticipation building, growing so heavily she feels herself getting even wetter, somehow.

She feels completely safe with him. Especially with his sorta-goofy, but absolutely-handsome smile. A blush rushes over her and she giggles.

He chuckles innocently back, dipping down to rub his nose against hers.

Then, his hot breath over her lips: "Open your legs."

She submits instantly. Her legs drape over his legs as he sits back on his heels in front of her.

With that voice, unrecognizable — so sexy she just might shamelessly do anything he tells her to. And he knows it too. That stupid, sexy, cocky smirk on his face tells her so.

The pad of his middle finger presses over her belly button, down in a straight line to the bottom part of her tummy. Then his whole hand envelops her there, eyes raking over her legs where they're parted. She's never felt this soft before, especially in comparison to the hard press of his thighs underneath hers. The muscles she just felt against her body, the ones she'll feel again as soon as she can…

She knew already about how fit he is, anyone with eyes could tell. She's felt this same body many times. But now, she knows knows.

She bites her lip as his hands slide into the crevice between her hips and legs — then, to the backs of her thighs, which she thought were too big before but he has no problem cradling them in his palms. He pushes her legs slightly more up, more apart. And at any other time in their relationship, she'd be stunted by shame, despite her wanting this (whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not.)

But it gives her power. The way she can practically see him being hypnotized by her body. He's staring dead at the very part of her she would never show anyone but him. A part that brings life in ways she's understanding now.

Beyond the pleasure of it, along with the waves of heat flowing through her, she's fascinated by this situation. By his reaction, to the way his eyes are darker than she's ever seen them. Glossed over, heavily lidded, hyper-focused on her.

She's ready for more to happen between them.

Her heart flutters when he finds her eyes again, the same delicious look on his face. She bites down harder into her lip. The smile that comes over her is involuntary.

That same feeling that neither of them are who they are floods her. Or perhaps they've only revealed themselves, even to their own selves.

God, he's so sexy. Without thinking, she grabs her breasts and squeezes, wanting to relieve some sort of pressure.

His moan shocks one out of her, too.

"God, you're so sexy," he rumbles deeply as he dives back into her, mouth crashing hotly down on hers.

She's never been kissed like this. So wetly, messily, so dirty. She's never been kissed while being touched.

And she never knew what she was missing out on, how could she? Only he could turn her on like this.

His long finger slides over her wetness — it's like touching herself but not — and the not makes her dig her nails into his shoulders and moan. He aligns his finger over her and presses in, then slowly, he drags it up, the lightest tingles rushing through her body.

She's not sure how much either of them know about sex — but so far, he seems to know it well enough.

It doesn't matter, though. Because any random thoughts fling out of her head when he touches her where it really matters.

"Ranma!" she huffs, caught off guard by the most incredible movement over her most sensitive place. With her eyes squeezed shut, her nails find his shoulders.

His lips find her cheek. With each stroke of his finger, he kisses her, long and deep, deepening, coordinating the dance between both parts of her. She relaxes into it even more, dropping her legs even wider — she feels another finger slip in as he starts kissing her neck in a way that feels like he wants to bite her. But he refrains, the perfectionist in him wants this to be romantic, she can tell.

His lips are so hot and consuming over her skin. His fingers are rubbing, gliding slightly faster, and she can barely register her moans. She can't even focus on one sensation — they blend together, just like her arms blend around his head, holding him to the slope of her shoulder as he arrives there.

Her head goes back against the pillow as he begins to draw deep, quick circles over her clit. His mouth stutters on her extended neck, climbing back up to her jaw, ending at her ear. And he whispers.

"Is that good, baby?"

She moans. Loudly.

And for some reason, her entire body reacts.

Her nipples harden, her insides flutter with red hot butterflies, the pleasure he's giving her immediately multiplies, and then she's close.

"Mmmm…" Her legs fall onto the bed as he climbs further over her, his pace quickening with their breath. She feels his hand on top of her head, his thumb stroking her hair. Low groans sound from his throat, and eventually, they morph into her name.

"Akane. Be quiet," he whispers. "Look at me."

But she's so lost in his touch —

"Look. At. Me."

Her eyes shoot open.

She thought she had already seen his intensity. He keeps surprising her.

His thick brows furrowed over the most devastating look he's ever given her. Chills explode up her spine. Her pulse throbs over his fingers. She can't see the blue of his eyes.

Then, the words that both kill and resurrect her leave his delicious mouth.

"Come for me, baby."

So she does. Hard.

He fell asleep rock hard, but only because he was so exhausted and overwhelmed by one of the most insane things he's ever experienced in his life. And that's saying something.

His brain couldn't cope, so once she had the hottest orgasm he has ever seen in his whole entire life. And I mean it. He fell asleep right alongside her. But not before licking my fingers.

Man, he feels like a superhero. He had no idea making your girl cum could feel this fucking incredible.

He smiles a huge, dopey smile as he inhales her. The smell of her hair, like apples and warm, delectable sweetness. He pulls her in closer, hand right underneath her perfect chest.

The soft, steady rise and fall of her breath soothes him. He's half awake, in between dreaming and not — but this feels like a dream to him, anyway.

He didn't think they'd ever end up like this. Now her bare back is pressed to his bare chest and he's happy.

He cracks his eyes open. It's still dark, but in the muddy gray of a winter's dawn kind of way. Could it stay night? Could they have more time to sleep together? Now his own thinking's got him waking up…

He snuggles up closer to her warmth underneath the blanket and tries to fall back asleep. He wraps his arm tighter around her, her soft, soft breasts resting on his forearm. Her naked body shifts against him before she sighs gently.

Oh, yeah. She's naked.

That is so hot.

A peek wouldn't hurt, right? He lifts the blanket slightly, just enough for him to see her body.

Yup. Just as sexy as before.

He wraps his right arm back around her, but this time, his hand lightly cups her left breast.

Okay, now he can fall back asleep.

Except, he tries to reach out for her, and she's gone. Also his shoulder hurts. Also he's drooling. And also, he has no idea where he is.

He scrunches his nose in confusion, sitting up and looking around the disgustingly bright room.

Man, what the hell'm I… OH!

He checks if his pants are still on. Okay, alright, they are. Is he sure he's not still sleeping?

Does it matter? Damn, it's cold. He shoves himself into the blanket and curls up beneath it.

"Ranma?" a tiny voice whispers.

He moans back, already drifting off.

Then a tiny hand touches the top of his head. "Ranma, wake up…"

"Mmm?" He peeks an eye out at her. What the hell? Do they have school today? "Few more minutes…" he mumbles.

Her fingers scratching his scalp is not helping him wake up. Oh, that feels so nice right now…

"I'm sorry, Ranma, I'd let you sleep here, but I don't want you to get caught."

"Mmmmmmmm." Like he gives a shit right now.

She pulls his warm toasty blanket down and leans in. He hears her little kiss right in his ear. "You can sleep in your room. Quick, before everyone wakes up."

Seriously?

"'kane, shutup already."

"Ex-scuse me?"

He can feel the bags under his eyes as he pops them open and rolls them. In one swift motion, he uncovers himself, pulls her in, then wraps the blanket around them. He tucks his arm around her waist and his chin on top of her head. Her clothes brush his bare chest, and her breath fans over his neck.

"Y'heard me," he grumbles, already snoring. And then he faintly hears what sounds like an obnoxiously loud yawn from outside. What do I care, huh? Who cares if I'm sleeping in my girlfriend's bed?

Is she pinching his nipple? What the hell? And he's about to tell her it kinda feels good too, until she twists it so goddamn hard he jumps.

He sucks his teeth hard. "What the fuck was that for?!"

"Shh! Out of my bed already!" she whisper-screams. Half of her body is on the floor, hands slapping against it until his shirt is thrown into his face. "I'm sorry, I really am, but—"

"Akane," a voice rings behind the door. "Are you up?"

Oh shit. That's Nabiki. If it was Kasumi, he wouldn't have had chills go down his spine just now.

He only needs to see her panic for a split second — he's never moved so quickly in his life. The door creaks open, but he's already out on the roof, gripping his tank top as the cold prickles his back. Goddammit Nabiki! He barely restrains himself from hissing and screaming curses into the sun.

A particularly brisk wind passes and he feels it cut through the fabric of his sweats god DAMMIT—

"AH!" he yelps when something grazes his foot.

"Get. Down!" she hisses from the window.

He turns his neck like he's frozen. Because he is. And stares.

"Why didn't you just go down? Come back in."

He sticks his tongue out at her as he slides down the roof, hooking his foot on her windowsill and pulling himself inside. She begins to rub his arms, but apparently she's useless today and it does absolutely nothing, so he immediately buries himself in the stupid fucking bed he wanted to stay in anyway.

His head is covered, but he feels her sit beside him. "Ugh, poor you…"

Yeah, poor me! Are we gonna keep doing it like this? He's too cold and tired to say his thoughts out loud, so it comes out as a mmph and a frog-like groan.

"Okay." She pats his head over the blanket. "You can stay here, I guess. Kasumi, Nabiki and I are gonna do some holiday shopping." An awkward pause. "So I'll see you later?" But he can already hear himself snoring.

Hours later, she still feels bad for waking Ranma up at six in the morning, but she's still giggling at how helpless he looked gripping the roof like a stray cat.

She keeps blushing everytime she flashes back (often) to how he touched her and looked at her last night. And then she keeps laughing at how he flew out her window so fast her neck almost broke.

She nearly puts a clown-worthy amount of blush on her cheek thinking about him. In an attempt to feel more feminine, she's decided to doll herself up with a bit of makeup. Until a couple hours ago when Sayuri called, she completely forgot they made plans to go to the holiday market in town. Christmas is less than two days away, and she's still short a few gifts… okay, just one. For Ranma.

What do you get the guy you're technically engaged to but didn't want to be but now you think you kinda do and you only very very recently started to get intimate and lovey dovey with a little bit?

She very lightly applies her mauve-colored blush on the apples of her cheeks, forcing a close-lipped smile in the mirror. Her magazine seems to have everything she could ever need — she's opened to the page where it tells her exactly how to look presentable in society and the dusting of pink actually looks nice on her.

She also applied a bit of brown eyeliner on top of her lashes and carefully smoked it out, just a bit — the daintiest sparkly white eyeshadow over her lid, too. A respectable amount of mascara, which she has the most experience with. And now finally, a lovely lipstick she actually got shopping today that happened to match the cute skirt she got, too. A pretty brownish maroon that didn't stand out too much. She lifts her chin and puckers her lips. She feels like she's somewhere between a little girl playing dress up and a growing young woman.

Then she's reminded of how she never had that experience of playing dress-up with her mother's clothes and makeup. Would it have made her more graceful? Less brutish? Or was she always destined to be who she is no matter what?

For a second, she feels unlovable and misses the time she didn't have with her mother. But she can't do much about it except put the lipstick on. At the very least, she feels more confident today, more daring. Doing this feels risqué. And she likes it. A lot.

She stands up and checks herself out in the mirror. I must say Akane, you've really outdone yourself this time. A tight black turtleneck that Nabiki gave her, but she didn't dare to wear before; the mini maroon skirt, also tight and sitting at her waist with the cutest, subtle floral pattern; black tights with knee high boots that have a comfortable platform heel; a dainty necklace and earrings to match; and finally, since her hair has reached the top of her shoulders, a matching maroon ribbon holds the top half up.

There will be pictures today. And inevitably, Ranma. She hasn't told him anything yet, but like all other things, he will somehow be involved anyway. So is there a point in inviting him?

It'd be too awkward if he came along with her friends anyway, even if he does know them.

She feels like everyone would know too. And damn, she's only just started to accept whatever's happening between them. Having the world see her in this vulnerable state is too much.

She places her hands on her face. He'll at least see me like this and think I'm pretty, right? That's all she really wants tonight, anyway.

Suddenly, she remembers how it felt when his finger slid onto her heat, and then she's dizzy. Whew, I need to sit before I—

There's a familiar knock on her door that doesn't wait for her. It opens. Speak of the devil.

A breath of fire flows over her, from her starry head, her arrow-pierced chest, her butterfly garden belly. Then her weak legs can't decide whether they want to collapse or open for him again as he snakes into her room and shuts the door like he owns it.

It takes him a second to realize she's all dressed up — she forces herself to stand still and watch his reaction. She never paid this much mind to it, but right now, it just feels important.

Without changing his surprised expression, he says, "Woah, where're you goin'?"

Her lips twitch into a smile. She fights her brain that's trying to remind her of the claw indents that he made on the roof. "Holiday market."

"Oh." He nods and gulps, eyes slowly trailing down. She feels every bit of it.

On her boobs.

"You look different," he says to her boobs.

She's annoyed but also oddly flattered, and her blush only spreads through her skin. "Yeah…" She crosses her arms behind her back and pops her hip out, resisting the urge to hide when she's finally ready to be seen. She bats her lashes at the floor and bites her lip. He saw her naked. More than once. A nervous smile grows.

Just to have an excuse to move, she sits back down at her desk and adjusts her bangs. "We're gonna take pictures…" Great explanation, Akane!

He clears his throat. "Oh." Is he choking? "That's nice. Akane," he says, and it sounds promising.

She turns around, unable to drop her smile because she can't help it with him. "Yes, Ranma?"

Please say something cute. Pleeeaaasseee.

He begins to rub the back of his neck. "You look b-beautiful…"

She didn't think she could smile any harder — she feels so radiant. "You really think so?"

He chuckles, the blush on his face growing prominent. "Yeah."

A thump sound at her window before she can respond. She whips her head around to see something slamming against the glass. She goes to investigate, pulling it open to find — "P-Chan!" jumping into her arms. "Oh, you poor thing! Why do you keep leaving to stay out in the cold, huh?!" she scolds, holding him to her warm chest. "Would my kisses make you warm up?"

She gives him kisses all over his cute little face, his little body warming up with her love. She giggles as he squeals happily, cuddling into her neck. "Aww, you sweet little baby, let me warm you up…"

But one look at Ranma, and her mood completely changes.

Why is he looking at me like I killed someone in cold blood?!

She knows he doesn't like P-Chan, but does he seriously hate a tiny pig that much?!

Then she realizes — it's not her that he's giving the death stare to, but P-Chan — she tries to protect him, she really does, but Ranma when he's angry is beyond anyone's capabilities.

A chill goes down her spine as he lifts P-Chan by his collar, who even looks scared instead of angry. "Ranma, please…" she says weakly.

There's a silent conversation happening between them that she does not understand at all whatsoever. He bares his teeth to P-Chan with a crazy look in his eyes she has never seen.

What…?

Despite how ridiculous it looks on the surface, another shiver runs through her. Ranma's silence feels like both a threat and a promise.

And just as quickly as the moment came, it leaves as he sends P-Chan flying out the window.

"P-Chan!" she cries, gripping the windowsill. She hears a sploosh as he hits the water of the pond.

An incredible range of emotion slaps her at once — curiosity, confusion, rage, fear, attraction — why did it feel so possessive?

She whips around, his expression dark. "What is going on?" she says, unsure if she's willing to argue like this, but she's starting it anyway. "What the hell was that for?!"

"Akane, you seriously still don't get it?"

His voice sounds more different than she expects and she has to refrain from recoiling. "Obviously not!" she bites back weakly, backing against the wall as he steps forward.

"Do me a favor, Akane… and don't take that fucking pig in anymore. Don't take care of him, pet him, hold him, feed him… and don't you dare fucking KISS HIM!"

His words shock her so much, she literally doesn't know what to do. The ferocity of his response has left her completely stunned.

She always figured he was just being a jerk about P-Chan — but there's really something she's missing, isn't she…?

He huffs, the fire in his eyes slightly dissipating. He shifts his gaze to the side with a deep frown. And like he's fighting with himself, he sucks his teeth and starts walking towards the door.

"Have fun tonight," he says sharply, taking the air out of the room as he leaves.