Work Text:
The small curve curling her thin, red lips seemed to gently, slowly subdue to a way relaxed expression, yet extremely dull at the same time. still partly opened, they did allow a thin breath of air to enter, to tickle the inside of her throat with a chill. Her eyes upon his face, to then rest lazily on a wild bang of fair hair falling in a short, messy way upon his forehead. As if silently studying, focused. Did he cut them recently, perhaps ? – she came to ask herself of that silly, unimportant matter just at the wrong time and hour; still, it would have been hard to notice such a change anyway, given the usual length of his white hair.
Both the girl and the boy had been sitting on the soft cushions of the command room for a while. the moon still high, distant in the pitch black sky - easily visible from the window. No green shadows haunting them, no eerie atmosphere - or so it seemed to the redhead. Plus, no lights were on in the vast living room, except for the countless lit screens in front of them projecting cold light and odd shadows all around; each one of them monitoring in complete silence of the city’s most sensible areas, in search, with radars and various lights, of attacks and even of possible appearances of not Transmogrified civilians in danger. It had been her duty for years, now. Then, there was the Tower of Demise to also be taken into consideration.
Just like a couple of hours before, when they had returned from the battle, tired and scarred. both literally and not - as every Dark Hour spent outside of the dorm always did bring within itself, its power and risks. Akihiko had followed her up to the fourth floor that time, a bunch of notes with him - keeping her company; if he had initially planned to repeat for an upcoming test, he was not doing a great job. And while the girl had tried focusing on her skills, her training, and the numerous screens to gaze at, carefully, the boy had slowly grown tired, with eyelids heavier and heavier by the minute. She had noticed it, of course. Had he, though ?
She quickly processed the recent turn of events, their last battle and the strength he did put in each strike and skill, in order for all of them to result victorious. Just like a boxing match - yet way more vital in importance. With slow breath, she swallowed back a possible reminder to head for his own bedroom as soon as possible, if truly that tired and silent ( or a piece of almost motherly advice ), to gently touch of his left hand resting on the sofa, just in between the two; she remained surprised in not having found the usual leather glove covering it, at the touch. Yes, he had injured himself pretty bad right there, yet nothing a healing skill couldn’t fix. She lifted it up, with the thought the gesture would have served as a rush of adrenaline, a way to return fully awake. Mitsuru’s complexion turned rosy, when she instinctively pressed with delicacy the still reddened knuckles against her lips.
It was unusual for them to give up in those physical displays of closeness. They were more similar in character than anybody would have ever admitted or thought, extremely timid and awkward too: Mitsuru could speak for herself, at least, when she thought a contact of that kind would have made every single muscle of her body tense, in pure nervousness and thrilling anticipation. and maybe, even a little bit of indignancy. There were exceptions, of course - she did not have a mean or a chance to simply explore them yet.
That gentle kiss – kisses ? – was as small and innocent as they could have ever been. It did remind the heiress of the ones she did use to receive when scratching the skin of her hands after having played in the garden, after having climbed up trees, by her own mother.
There is no smile showing off, after that. The proud Empress, just as she had lifted it up to her own visage, delicately let the hand go; eye contact had never ceased, though, yet the darkness enveloping the space was making it difficult for her to read his expression, his reaction or the redness of her cheeks. one thing was sure, now: Akihiko was surely awake, judging by the normal paced rhythm of his consequential breaths. In a boost of odd, almost out of character, confidence, Mitsuru’s head tilted inwards, her body slightly moving along - back bending, and her hand now moving to rest on his shoulder. She made herself closer to him, a little more… a little bit more, with cheeks heating up and eyelids closed…
« I know we have no class tomorrow. But I’m sure it is time to go, to bed. Now. »
As the early bird he had always proved them all to be all that time, that situation was surely not the most ideal one. To be up, still ! Thus the girl had spoken gently, nothing louder than a murmur, all pronounced next to his own left ear; right after that, she finally retreated, stretching both of her arms above her head, with closed eyelids. a little grunt escaped his lips, just as Mitsuru thanked the darkness for swallowing up almost every single color there, for having hidden the kisses on the knuckles, or a small peck on his cheek while speaking.
Truth be told, she wasn’t sure either if that last innocent effusion - no marks left, no lipstick, given as gentle as possible, it could have been mistaken for a simple lock of hair brushing his skin - had truly happened or if it had been a mere nighttime illusion, a product of mere tiredness and sleep deprivation.