Chapter Text
December 31st, exactly 10 minutes before 6:30 PM
She turned herself once again in front of the hallway mirror, checking for any creases on her new dress. It came via express shipping and it’s a miracle that it arrived on schedule in the times between Christmas and New Year. It went straight to the amazing dry-cleaner’s around the corner who thankfully still kept hours during Christmas vacations. Now it sat perfectly on her, flattering her figure like it should.
Her powder-coloured light shimmering tights were a little thin for the winter weather but she would be picked up directly from the front door. No problem there despite the falling snow. The pumps, on the other hand...but she would mostly be sitting. That should be alright. Since they were borrowed but were still new, she did try to break them in, though a couple of days were definitely not enough to do the job.
Another turn and her new clutch almost fell from her grip. Maybe she should have gotten one with a chain after all. But that one was red, and though it matched her hair perfectly she didn’t like it. It attracts too much attention, as if her hair alone wasn’t enough.
Said hair was tucked in a half updo with slightly curled ends. The style was already outdated in Japan, but in a land where simple, straight hairdos had been trending for at least the last five years, hers would raise her above the crowds. If only she could do it herself. What would she do without him?
While he thought about all this, Obi smiled to himself and took in the sight of his flatmate behaving like a teenage girl on her first date. If she kept touching her hair like that she might as well let it completely down. Obi even dared to suggest a fascinator – elegant but simple, in a way that she didn’t have to do much with the hair itself. But that had earned him a scary glare, so no. No fascinator, message understood.
He wanted to tell her to stop worrying and fidgeting. That she was already perfect. That Zen was so smitten with her he would probably not even notice what she was wearing anyway. That it was just another dinner, and that it couldn’t be worse than last time...well, heh. It’s the prince we were talking about here, so it surely could. And that’s why he kept it all for himself, rather than running into the risk of causing her even more worry. Right now she probably wouldn't take anything he said seriously anyway.
“Do I really look okay?”
If Obi had a euro for every time he guessed correctly what Shirayuki was about to say next, he would have opened his own practice now.
“Are you questioning my fashion sense?” he teased, throwing her a smirk.
There’s that famous glare again, one he was really fond of. He stepped closer and stood behind her. Up close the glare looked more like a cute pout, challenging him to kiss it away. Better say something now or else he’d stare at her lips forever.
“You’re gorgeous, sweetie. There’s nothing to worry about,” he assured her.
Looking into the mirror, he couldn’t help noticing the odd pair their reflections made. A beautiful princess and a lazy bum, unkempt in a simple sweatshirt and a pair of old sweatpants. At least he smelled nice after having a shower, though not as nice as her. Was she wearing a perfume? Their height difference and her kitten heels made it perfect for him to plant his nose on the top of her head and inhale her scent – if only he dared to.
“I guess I’m just not used to wearing this kind of dress…” Shirayuki threw another glance at herself before turning to him with a grateful smile. “But thank you for choosing it for me, Obi. It’s really pretty.” She made a vague gesture indicating her whole self. “Not just the dress, but, well, everything, really. I don’t know what I would do without you. I’m such a noob at fancy dates, I don’t know if I’ll ever feel comfortable on those.”
Then you should stop dating a prince , was what Obi wanted to say. “Always at your service, sweetie,” was what he said instead, with an exaggerated, knightly bow. A distraction from his own thoughts. A reason to take his eyes off her lest they betray his emotions.
When he straightened up again she was looking at him with a worried expression – a different kind than before. Half of her lower lip was caught behind her teeth again. She really should stop doing that. Although it was a stay-on liquid type, chosen for the sake of all the kisses she would probably be receiving tonight, it still might not be able to withstand the constant harassment. He was about to open his mouth and scold her but she beat him to that.
“Obi, wait for me for the toshikoshi soba, okay? I’ll be back before midnight,” she said.
Well, that was unexpected. “Soba? But you’re going for a nice dinner? Surely there won’t be space left in your tummy for...oh. Are you worried you won’t get anything decent to eat like last time?”
Shirayuki made a face at his cheeky grin before turning earnest again. “Just wait for me, okay? It’s really important. Promise me?”
Obi couldn’t help the little frown forming between his brows. Why suddenly so serious? “O-kay?” he said, rather unsure. “I promise,” he then added firmly, as he noticed that his flatmate was still looking at him expectantly. To his surprise, Shirayuki held up her pinky and wiggled it in front of him.
“Pinky promise.”
Their fingers intertwined, different than the way he had always imagined it, and somewhat bittersweet. That small, mutually intentional gesture felt more intimate to him than all the other fleeting touches that had been carelessly shared between them.
“Hey,” Obi heard himself saying as their respective hands were back on their sides, “is everything okay? You’re acting a bit strange.”
“Am I?” Shirayuki tilted her head. Just then the building’s doorbell rang. “Oh!” Shirayuki exclaimed and her face was suddenly back to its nervous state from before. “That must be him. I guess I’ll just catch him downstairs…” Hurriedly, she put on her coat and her big scarf and started to walk to the door.
Obi raised his eyebrows at that. Shirayuki was definitely not her usual self. As far as he knew the prince always picked up his princess upstairs. He wondered why it’s different this time and whether it had something to do with the way Shirayuki was behaving. But he decided that it was none of his business. She would tell him later anyway if she wanted to. He followed her to the door and held it open for her.
“Have fun, sweetie. And be careful now, don’t you fall down the stairs.” That damn elevator was still not working.
His flatmate, who was already hurrying towards the staircase, turned and pointed at her pumps. “I won’t! I need to return these to Yuzuri unscathed!”
That wasn’t the problem Obi had in mind but before he could say anything Shirayuki was already gone. For a while he just stood there in the doorway, staring at nothing in particular, listening to her dull footsteps slowly fading away on the carpeted staircase. The sound of the building’s door opening and closing snapped him out of his trance and with a big sigh he retreated into the flat.
It was still five and a half hours until midnight. Obi had more than enough time to prepare the soba but his feet brought him to the kitchen anyway for the lack of better things to do. He cleared the working space, then reached into various cabinets to gather ingredients and cooking utensils. Buckwheat and all-purpose flour, mixing bowls, rolling pin, knife. He took off his sweater, put on his apron, wrapped a tenugui around his head and started to combine the flour. All the while his body worked on autopilot, his head was filled with white noise.
It was only when he started kneading the dough that his mind reconnected to his body. It probably helped that he had to use all his strength for that. If Shirayuki was making a big deal out of eating toshikoshi soba with him tonight, he’d better concentrate and make it a delicious batch. Since he didn’t know when she would be back, he refrigerated the noodles right after he cut them.
Feeling accomplished but strangely unsettled, he flopped down on the couch and pulled his phone from his pocket. He posted the random pictures taken messily during the soba creation process on Instagram and merely seconds later saw that Aki had liked them all. There was even a yummm, where’s my invitation? comment on the last one with a kiss wink.
Aki.
On that hungover morning some days ago Obi had made a promise to his friend. He really didn’t want to, but Aki was persistent. He was also shoving an avocado bacon egg toast into his mouth while shouting don’t be a fucking idiot at his poor throbbing head. One hundred percent on purpose. Aki was a caring friend like that.
Up to this moment Obi was still weighing on whether he should keep his promise or whether it would be too late anyway after Shirayuki’s date tonight. Would it still matter if he were to say something then? Would it not bother her, if anything?
Besides, she was acting strange tonight. Why did she insist on having toshikoshi soba with him? Didn’t she want to spend the night with the prince? Wasn’t it supposed to be their first official date? What does ‘official’ mean anyway? And why the hell was he having all these thoughts like a lovesick half-pint?
Obi scrunched his face and massaged small circles on his temples. It was no use thinking about it. He had been thinking about it ever since he left Aki’s place with a slap on his butt and a go get her, love whispered to his ear.
After turning and tossing around on the couch, distributing flour everywhere, he finally decided that he would just wait and see what Shirayuki's mood was like later. Maybe if he could get behind the reason why she was acting strange he would know what to do.
*****
December 31st, a little before 8:15 PM
It was not a stage with blinding lights like the one he remembered from his childhood. It was not his parents’ old living room in Ile-de-France with its familiar smell on a Christmas Eve. It was merely an elegant restaurant that was utterly empty save for the red-haired lady who stood next to the piano, watching him play.
Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers from The Nutcracker Suite was not an easy piece and he was awfully out of practice. But, to his relief, Zen found that his fingers could still sail smoothly over the keys. His hard work over the last few nights seemed to have paid off. Mitsuhide had advised him to choose one of the modern pieces, but considering the very little time he had for rehearsing, Zen would rather pick something he was at least already familiar with, albeit from so long ago.
Besides, the story of The Nutcracker was a romantic one and he had hoped to get its message across to his girlfriend. Future girlfriend, he had to remind himself then, or he would get an earful from his personal assistant, again.
From the corner of his eyes, Zen stole a glance at Shirayuki. She had on a taupe cocktail dress with floral embroidery on the whole upper part and on the long sleeves. Last time they met she had looked cute but tonight one would think she was a noble French woman. What an exquisite taste. He would be proud to have her standing by his side.
Right now she was standing a little bit stiffly, though. Zen wondered why she didn't just lean on the piano like so many of his girl friends did in his school days. Was it a cultural difference? Nevertheless, her eyes were half closed and there was a smile on her lips, so he figured she was enjoying the music.
When after around 8 minutes the piece ended, Shirayuki opened her eyes fully and blinked, as if she was just awakened from a trance. Then she clapped her hands and smiled sweetly at him.
“That was wonderful, Zen. You are really talented!”
Zen felt a blush creeping up to his cheeks. His hands quickly busied themselves with collecting the music sheets. “Oh, it’s just something hammered into me ever since I was four. Luckily my fingers still remember the moves,” he tried to answer casually despite the thumps in his chest. “It’s a piece that makes me think of you, so I wanted you to have it as my return present,” he hastily added, recalling what Mitsuhide had told him to say.
“Thank you, Zen. It was a very lovely present. No one has ever played a song for me before.”
If Shirayuki were Zen’s opponent in court he would definitely lose his case. At the moment, though he was very much aware of his own face, which was like an open book, there was nothing he could do to stop the grin which appeared there, uninvited.
“I’m glad you like it, Shirayuki.”
If only Shirayuki knew how much. Despite his confidence that everything he planned would work out well, Zen couldn’t help feeling nervous in anticipation of how she would react. His original plan was to invite her to his place, but the logistics would be troublesome, as his grand piano still stood at his mother’s place. Besides, Mitsuhide had suggested that inviting her to a restaurant might be more relaxing for her.
Zen didn’t understand why a restaurant would be more relaxing compared to his own cozy home, but the piano situation made him relent and so he booked this whole French restaurant for the night instead. He didn’t want any other ears to hear his song for Shirayuki.
Back at the dining table, his date was now looking at him shyly. “First dinner, then live music. I feel bad that I’ve only given you a box of lame cookies, Zen.”
“Please, don’t be! This is nothing compared to your wonderful cookies! It’s just that I can’t cook or bake, or do anything with my hands for what it’s worth. So this is the only ‘handmade’ thing I could give you, and I’m so happy you like it!”
Though still seemingly reluctant, Shirayuki didn’t argue further and just smiled. Zen knew he should leave it at that, but his curiosity got the better of him.
“Speaking of handmade, I just want to make sure – the present should be handmade by the giver, right?”
A tilt of her head and silky red spilled over one of her shoulders. “Well, yes? That’s the point of it being handmade?”
Zen chuckled while making a mental note to reward Mitsuhide later. “Yeah. Just wanted to make sure.”
The conversation went smoothly over dessert. Unlike their other dates so far Shirayuki was mostly listening, though. Not that it bothered him, he just couldn’t help wondering why she was being so quiet tonight. She didn’t mention her flatmate. Not even once! That was the most peculiar thing in the whole evening, and to his great annoyance, it was slowly grating him from the inside. He decided to do something about it.
“By the way, how’s Obi?”
Shirayuki’s fork went clattering to her plate. “O-Obi? He’s fine...he’s fine,” she laughed rather nervously. “Um, why do you ask?”
Now that was a reaction Zen didn’t expect. Had something happened between them since Christmas? He tried to detect anything on her face that might tell him something but, to his dismay, found none. She was back to her reserved self.
“Nothing in particular. Just want to check how he’s doing after we last met.” Zen paused for a moment, contemplating whether it was the right thing to ask her, but in the end went with it anyway. “Did he tell you about the talk he and I had when you went to the powder room that time?”
Shirayuki swallowed her mousse au chocolat slowly before answering, “I don’t think so. Why? What did you guys talk about?”
“Oh, nothing special. I just wanted to make sure that both he and I were aware of our respective positions,” Zen nonchalantly said, scooping a mound of mousse. “I was surprised when he denied that he’s gay, though. From your stories, I’ve always thought he was an honest person, who is open about his sexuality.”
There was another clatter as silver abruptly met porcelain for the second time.
“Shirayuki, what’s the matter? Are you okay?” Zen asked her worriedly. Did it upset her that much that he talked about her flatmate during their date?
“I’m so sorry! I’m perfectly fine. My hand is just slippery. Maybe I’ve used too much hand cream?” There she went again with her nervous laugh. “I’m okay Zen, really. Go on, you were saying?”
But after the way she reacted Zen thought he’d better change the subject, and so he did, and after a while the conversation went back flowing normally between them, albeit a little awkwardly at first. He also swore on his father’s grave to never mention his rival again in their next dates. It was a dumb idea and he blamed it on the alcohol. He knew he should have ordered wine instead of champagne. But it’s New Year’s Eve and he wanted a proper celebration.
As he walked Shirayuki from his car back to her building, Zen thanked the universe that he’d managed to make it to the end of the evening without any other blunders – at least he thought he didn’t. He did wish that he could’ve done something to make his date more cheerful, though. Despite everything he did tonight, Shirayuki seemed slightly aloof compared to last time.
When they reached the door she turned to him. “Thank you so much for everything, Zen. I had a very lovely time,” she said with a sweet smile.
It looked like he was politely dismissed. Zen wondered what was going on. Shirayuki didn’t let him pick her up upstairs and now this. There must be a reason. Maybe she was fighting with her flatmate? That’s a high possibility. In any case Zen didn’t want to ruin the night by asking. Instead, he gazed at his date adoringly before reaching out his hand to tuck a couple of loose red strands behind a pale ear.
“I could say that myself, too,” he said, and leaned towards her for a good night kiss, his eyes slowly closing...
...and a second later they sprang open as his lips met her cheek. Zen blinked in confusion. Was he so drunk he missed his aim that far?
Shirayuki was looking at him not only a little guiltily. “Oh! Um. I…”
“...Shirayuki?” He probed. Could it be that he had been reading her wrong? Did she not want to be kissed?
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, Zen. It’s not what you think. I was just surprised, really!” Shirayuki chewed on her lip and looked a little forlorn. “Can we...um, can we try again?”
Zen thought her smile was a little shaky, but there was determination in the emerald eyes looking straight at him. “Are you sure?”
A nod. That was enough. So he made his second attempt and this time their lips met. And how soft her lips were! Zen wanted more but managed to restrain himself. A merely chaste kiss would do for now. He would have other chances later. He didn’t let it linger too long and pulled away first. Then he noticed something.
“...Were your eyes open?”
“Huh?” came the startled reply from his date.
“No, sorry, it’s nothing.”
Maybe she simply wasn’t ready. But nevertheless, it was a progress. Zen decided not to let it bother him. Apparently Shirayuki was such an innocent woman for her age and that made him fall for her even more.
“Well then, good night, Shirayuki,” he bid his good bye, squeezing her hands lightly.
“Good night, Zen.”
*****
December 31st, shortly after 9:30 PM
The building door closed behind her and Shirayuki leaned heavily on it. She let out a long breath, feeling all her energy left her body along with it.
She felt like a failure, both to Zen and Obi. To Zen, because in spite of all of the romantic things he did for her, she couldn’t show more excitement. To Obi, because it felt like she had wasted all of his support and effort in preparing her for the evening.
There was nothing wrong with the evening, her heart just wasn’t in it.
Arriving at her flat’s door Shirayuki fished her phone from her pocket and glanced at the time. Obi was probably already finished making the soba. At that thought, she smiled sadly to herself. This was going to be their last toshikoshi soba together.
The door opened to a soft music coming from the living area – Barry Manilow’s It’s Just Another New Year’s Eve . An encouraging piece they always played at the end of the year. She caught some of her favourite phrases.
...And all our plans
Who says they can't come true?
Tonight's another chance to start again
It's just another New Year's Eve…
This year those lyrics hit her harder than ever. Shirayuki’s heart clenched. Would she forever think of Obi whenever she heard this song from now on? Shaking her head to erase the thought, she called from the hallway, “I’m home...” but silence ensued. Where was Obi?
After shrugging off her outer clothes Shirayuki went inside and found her flatmate sprawled on the couch under her quilted blanket, fast asleep. One foot wearing a cheerful reindeer patterned sock was sticking out. Despite herself Shirayuki smiled. He must have fallen asleep waiting for her.
She tiptoed to the couch and sat on the edge. For a while she gazed at her friend’s handsome face, which currently looked a little silly with his mouth slightly open. There’s that tiny scar above his brow he never told her the story of. Now she might never hear about it. His pointy nose, his high cheekbones, his thick, short lashes. His lips, curvy and thin on the upper part, fuller on the lower part. She would never know how they feel on hers.
Her mind involuntarily wandered to what happened earlier and she felt stupid. She should have known that Zen would kiss her – they had been on several dates already and it’s about time he did, right? Why did she have to react that way?
Also, why did it feel completely different than kissing Obi? Though it was only on the cheek Shirayuki felt more thrill coursing through her body back then. She silently cursed her body’s chemistry. Kissing Zen didn’t have to be better than kissing Obi, she just wished it wasn’t that disappointing in comparison!
Shirayuki tore her gaze away from her friend. What was she doing? No matter how much she liked looking at him, doing it while he’s sleeping was straight up creepy. She took a deep breath and placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly.
“Obi, I’m home,” Shirayuki said, carefully making sure her voice was steady.
Her favourite pair of golden eyes opened and greeted her warmly. “Welcome home, sweetie,” he said with a husky voice, still thick with sleep. Shirayuki thought that the universe was being so unfair to her right now. Obi slowly sat up, yawned and stretched. “What time is it?”
“A quarter to ten.”
“Oh?” Obi blinked, still only half awake. Shirayuki wanted to tousle his messy hair and kiss his dopey face. “I didn't think you'd be back so soon. Shall I prepare the soba now or do you want to wait a bit?”
Shirayuki shook her head. “Let me change and I’ll help you.”
When Shirayuki reemerged from her room Obi was grating some fresh wasabi. Together they cooked the soba and made the sauce. Shirayuki savoured every moment, etching Obi’s every movement in her mind. The way his long fingers grab things, his low hum along the music in the background, how their limbs accidentally brushed during the whole act.
The first slurp of the noodles was intense and Shirayuki almost choked. She might have put too much wasabi into the sauce. The soba was delicious, though. She enjoyed each bite and chewed slowly, memorising the texture and taste.
“You’re still full aren’t you?” She heard her flatmate’s teasing voice. “I guess dinner was better than last time? How was your date anyway?”
Though Shirayuki would rather talk about something else first she knew she owed Obi the story. He would only keep nagging her if she dodged the question. So after taking a sip of tea, she started telling him of how the evening went. For some reason Obi kept his silence while listening to her attentively. Shirayuki wondered why – she was missing his off-hand remarks. She ended the story without telling him about the kiss, though. She couldn’t bring herself to. Not when she was about to drop a bomb on him.
“All in all it was much better than last time, I think? He’s improving, I guess? You know, it’s getting better all the time? A-and for that reason I’ve also been thinking that it’s probably time for me to move out? I mean, not like, now, but maybe in...uh, I don’t know...soon?”
Shirayuki said it all in one go and now she held her breath, hoping that somehow Obi would understand her decision without her having to say more. She didn’t want to explain all her reasoning and emotion behind it. Even though she knew she should.
“So you’re moving in with him, then?”
Startled, Shirayuki looked up to her flatmate, who was now languidly sipping his tea without looking at her, as if what she had just said didn’t faze him at all. There was a pang of disappointment bursting inside her chest. She was anticipating a different reaction, not one like this.
“W-what? No! I mean, I don’t know! We haven’t even talked about it yet. Not even the slightest!” Shirayuki paused for a moment to take one deep breath and compose herself. “I just thought it’s the best for everybody,” she continued, more calmly. “I mean, I can’t keep living with you when I’m together with him, right? It’s not fair to him.” And to you, and to me , she added internally.
Obi placed the cup down and gazed at her intently. It was like he was trying to read her mind. “Is that really what you want?” he asked her. Shirayuki swallowed and nodded stiffly. To her surprise Obi leaned forward and reached across the table. “Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?” She felt Obi’s hand touch her chin lightly, then moved up to cup her face, while his thumb gently wiped the tears she didn’t even realise she was shedding.
“I-I…” Shirayuki wanted so bad to lean into his touch, to grab his hand and kiss his palm and to never let go.
“It’s okay, sweetie, I understand,” she heard his soothing voice. “If that’s what you think is best, I trust your judgement.” His thumb was still caressing her cheek. “I’ll miss you, though.”
With an ugly sob, the dam broke and tears were running freely down Shirayuki’s face. Obi’s warm hand left her. There was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and the next thing she knew Obi was embracing her.
“Hey, don’t cry, sweetie. It’s not like we’ll never see each other again, right? I’m glad things are working out between you and Zen.”
No. That’s not what she wanted to hear. She wanted him to stop her from going. To tell her to choose him instead. Though she knew it was impossible. Though she realised she was only fooling herself. Shirayuki buried herself deeper into Obi’s chest, gradually damping his shirt.
“Did he like the dress?”
Between her hiccups Shirayuki choked out a chuckle. “What do you think?” she asked wetly into his shirt, and they both giggled, because they knew how Zen had been liking all of Obi’s dress choices for Shirayuki so far. It’s embarrassingly stereotypical, if one thinks about it, but in Shirayuki’s case, having a gay friend who was an expert in fashion was really beneficial.
Hold up.
Abruptly, Shirayuki pulled herself away from Obi’s embrace and stared dully at him from behind watery curtains. Right. Didn’t Zen say that Obi denied he’s gay? Why did he do that? The Obi Shirayuki knew would never tell a straight lie like that, unless–
Several soft taps landed on her head. Obi was looking at her bemusedly. “Hello? What’s going on in there? Talk to me?”
It’s now or never, Shirayuki thought, her sorrow now completely forgotten.
“Obi,” she started reluctantly, not entirely sure how to proceed, “there’s one thing Zen told me that kind of bothers me.” She sniffed and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. “He told me you said you’re not gay – you know, last time we had that dinner. I know it’s none of my business since it was between you guys, but I couldn’t help wondering why you said that?” she ended her question nervously.
If Obi was surprised it didn’t show on his face. For a while he just stared back at her without any distinct expression. Then he opened his mouth and said matter-of-factly, “Because I’m not gay.”
For one terrible moment Shirayuki thought her heart had stopped beating, and before she could recover Obi placidly went on. “Actually, I’ve been wondering why you told him I was. I figured it’s because you wanted him to stop fretting about us living together – which is okay, I guess,” he made a tiny shrug with his broad shoulders. “A heads up would’ve been much appreciated, though,” he added with a small chuckle. “It was rather shocking when he suddenly said it.” Then his golden eyes bored into hers as he said, “Unless you really think I’m gay?”
Flabbergasted, Shirayuki could only gape at her apparently-not-gay flatmate. Did she hear right? All this time, Obi was not gay? Did she suffer for nothing?
Seeing her reaction, Obi’s eyes went round with realisation. “Fu–you, you really thought I was gay, didn’t you?”
Shirayuki was still processing what was happening as she watched Obi slowly slumped back into his chair. He placed one elbow on the table and propped his chin on his palm, his long fingers fanning over his face. Clearly, he was upset. But why? It's hardly her fault she thought he was gay! What about the evidence? What about Aki ?
“But you slept with Aki!” Shirayuki blurted out. Her brain-to-mouth filter was no longer working and she didn’t care the slightest. She was determined to get to the bottom of this. Obi simply peered at her from behind his fingers, looking annoyed and dumbfounded at the same time.
“Uh. You know things about me and Aki not even I know?”
Shirayuki was still staring at him disbelievingly as Obi started to massage his temples. “Oh boy. Okay. Do tell. When did you think that happened?” he asked.
“Last month! I was home early and you were with him together in your–”
Obi interrupted her with a long groan. “Sweetie, he was only giving me a passive stretch.”
Right. Pretty logical, when she only thought about it. The problem was, she didn’t. Shirayuki felt like smacking herself. “Well, it’s your fault for making those...those noises!” she said begrudgingly, feeling heat rising to her cheek with the memory that arose with the argument. Trying hard to will the blush away, she added with a small voice, “So you’re not dating Aki?”
Obi was now completely leaning back on his chair, both his hands on his lap, for some reason looking tired and defeated. “We dated a while ago, but we’re just friends now.”
“Huh? Oh.” Realisation dawned on Shirayuki. “So you’re...” She bit her lip. The last thing she wanted to do was to carelessly label her best friend. Again.
Obi tilted his head and saved her with a lopsided smile. “I was into Aki and he just happens to be a guy, sweetie.”
Hearing that, Shirayuki’s mind quickly recalled all the things that had happened since she moved into their flat. Now everything seemed utterly different than the way she had interpreted them before. All those gestures, touches, unsubtle albeit gentlemanlike flirts and approaches. Shirayuki wished for the floor to open and swallow her whole, and if Yuzuri was there she would definitely pull her along.
Still, she needed to know for sure. No more assumptions. “So you’ve also been into girls before?”
Obi chuckled. “Yeah.”
“...How about me?” Shirayuki continued nervously. She didn’t know how she looked right now. Probably desperate. Hopeful. Mortified. But she couldn’t care less. If anything, she wanted Obi to know exactly how she was feeling at the moment.
Obi’s smile dropped. As he gazed at her Shirayuki could almost see the gears ticking and turning inside his brain. Finally he let out a long breath and his smile was back as he curtly answered, “Yeah.”
With that, Shirayuki’s heart soared and she was about to respond gleefully as she heard he said, “But don’t worry about it.”
All at once her heart dropped to her stomach. “Huh?”
“I won’t let my own feelings be a hindrance to your relationship with Zen. Just forget what I said, okay?”
Ah, right. Zen. She was supposed to be dating him. She needed to get this straight immediately.
“Obi, wait–”
But the guy in front of her was lost in his own audible musings. He was leaning his elbow on the table again, chin in hand, not looking at her. “I think you’re in good hands, there. He helped you most during that pharmacy crisis...”
“What? No–”
“...he always treats you right, you just need to tell him that you’re vegetarian, though…”
“Obi–”
“...and he’s the general counsel of the Wisteria hospital, he could provide you well and be your support…”
“Obi!”
“...you know, I just want you to be happy–”
Shirayuki had enough of her flatmate’s rambling. She grabbed his shirt and shook him fiercely.
“ Obi! Shut the hell up and listen! You’re the one who helped me the most during the crisis! You’re the one who makes me happy! You’re the one that I want! I just never thought it’s possible!”
Silence followed. For all the monologues he had prattled on, Obi was now at a loss for words. He simply stared at her, wide-eyed, bewildered and confused. “What?”
Shirayuki sighed and pulled him closer. “Obi, can I kiss you?”
One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three. Shirayuki waited for what felt like forever until she saw the glint in Obi’s eyes. And then he was leaning towards her and their lips gently met.
Despite all the times she had imagined what it might be like to kiss him, the real thing far surpassed her imagination. As much as she wanted to enjoy it, her mind was busy taking in and trying desperately to memorise all the sensations she felt. The jolt of electricity coursing through her entire body. Obi’s hand sliding up to the nape of her neck and the other one on the small of her back, pulling her impossibly closer. The way his soft lips moved against hers and the small, almost heartbreaking sound he made at the back of his throat.
Too soon, the kiss ended. When Shirayuki opened her eyes Obi’s were still closed. His brow was slightly knitted and there was such a blissful look on his face. Shirayuki felt a tug in her heart. It truly was possible to fall in love with the same person over and over again.
Obi opened his eyes and smiled a little shy smile at her. There was love in the warm gold, welcoming and comforting. Without saying anything he closed their gap and captured her lips again, and again, and again – each a gentle peck, but each more intense than the previous, until Shirayuki couldn’t suppress a quiet moan that came with the familiar throbbing between her legs.
When they parted they were breathless, not wanting to let go, still savouring the puffs of air on their lips.
For all the blood rushing through her veins and her heartbeat thumping loudly in her ears, Shirayuki almost missed it when Obi whispered to her lips, “Does this change things between us?”
Shirayuki couldn't help but grin. “I surely hope so.” She pecked him lightly. “You can start by using my name.”
Obi shifted and nuzzled her neck with his nose, guiltlessly breathing in her scent. “Mmm... Shirayuki .” And shivers ran down Shirayuki’s spine. Obi should be really careful with the usage, she thought as she felt the persistent throbbing grew stronger.
“Does this mean you’re staying?”
Shirayuki’s fingers drew up Obi’s back and tangled into his hair as she turned her head to plant another sweet kiss on his cheekbone. “I’m not going anywhere.”
