ERO
KAGOME
.
"Will you be available next week?" I think I've managed to keep my voice steady throughout that short sentence, which carries both a longing and the fear of seeing that same longing shattered.
"Maybe." Your response is simple. It's not a yes, but it's not a no either. It's just as we are and have always been. That gives me a certain sense of relief, yet it also fills me with disappointment.
"Alright."
Will we ever be anything else?
You're lying face down on the bed, and I'm sitting on your waist, my fingers tangling in the strands of your hair. You make a soft sound, which seems to indicate that you like the touch.
"Keep going," you ask in a drowsy voice, and I can't help the slight pang in my heart and the involuntary need to please you.
I untangle the long strands of your platinum hair, slide them through my fingers, and run them slowly and delicately, just like I navigate any moment with you. And when I reach the ends and they fall from my hand, the emptiness becomes so overwhelming that I need to touch you again. Over and over.
Your breathing has become soft and rhythmic. I might think you've fallen asleep, though you never do when we're together. Still, I convince myself that it's true, and I stealthily move my hand closer to your bare back, answering the overwhelming desire to touch you, to caress you beyond what the mere craving for physical contact demands.
My fingers stay still, paralyzed by the sensation of touching your skin the way I want to. The passion driving me now is different, and I believe the best way to push aside what I'm feeling, is to flee. My entire body tenses up at the mere thought of touching your back and wishing that touch could somehow change the way we treat each other.
"Kagome," you murmur my name.
I hold my breath, waiting to see if it's in the middle of your sleep that my name surfaces. I close my fingers into a fist, bringing it to my chest as if I could preserve all my desires within it.
"Are you okay?" you speak again. I release the air in an exhale that fails to hide my disappointment. Then I smile bitterly at my own feelings.
"And if I'm not, will you make me feel better?" I dare to confess, sensing the fear that this veiled admission stirs in my body.
The room fills with silence in an instant. I watch the unmoving expression on your face. You open your eyes, then begin to turn your torso between my legs, lifting me and shifting me until you pin me to one side of the bed.
"Let me try," you murmur against my lips before kissing me.
Neither you nor I will say anything else tonight.
.
A/N
Here's the drabble that accompanies the INUYASHA one from this same series. I enjoyed portraying the idea of two people too afraid to confess their feelings. Indeed, fear is the antagonist of love.
I hope you liked it. Let me know your thoughts in the comments.
Kisses,
Anyara
This text is possible thanks to the translation of: Dezart