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There are no words. No blatant noise except for the flicker of her lighter. Touko doesn’t want to smoke in front of him, but needs some sort of distraction. A distraction from the swelter of her palm against his. N says nothing as he watches the Pidoves poke at the ground for breadcrumbs, then flutter above telephone pole lines. Crisp August wind breezes through his hair and tremble against his eyelashes. He is threateningly beautiful, features soft and not a blemish to his skin. She thinks this as she picks at the pimple growing on the bottom of her chin and wipes the day-old mascara flaking underneath her narcoleptic eyes. N doesn’t pay any mind; she is marvelous all the same without having to turn his head.
Anxiety sets in as her fingers begin to cramp. She waits for something. Sentences, words, syllables- an apology. Maybe he’ll never be able to form the words right. I’m sorry for leaving Unova on a whim because I couldn’t understand what I was feeling, abandoning you, making you feel obligated to search for me in five different regions, and therefore traumatizing you over the course of three years. Touko doesn’t expect him to say that. Finding an equal apology to the irreversible damage she’s also done proves to be just as difficult. They are fools to fate.
He squeezes her hand tighter. She stops thumbing the switch of her lighter to glance over. The absence of sound is awkward, more than the man next to her that never learned how to properly speak to girls. He’s lucky that she’s honed the art of patience ever since their first meeting. There is a slight smile, one she can sense comfort in as he continues to observe the birds. He waits to see how many land on the grass, counting each one that perches.
Touko’s patience finally runs thin, the wait agonizing with each breath. Snatching her hand from his grip, he jumps back in shock. The lighter is placed on the side table, her chair emitting a screech across the wood of the porch as she turns his direction. Cupping his face, her pupils dart back and forth between his eyes and mouth, hoping such an obvious hint serves as a signal. He leans in, taking hold of her forearms before sealing the unwanted space. They haven’t been this close in three whole years.
She has forgotten what it feels like to be kissed. He hasn’t felt the warmth of another human in so long. Way too long. As romantic as they are supposed to be, it is terrifyingly uncomfortable to be so vulnerable.
The pace is too slow for her. It is painfully gentle, kisses like feathers grazing her lips, a bullet in the ocean. She wants to feel the agonizing longing, the years of pining, to be engulfed in that desire that sear through the painful memories. N is hesitant, as if afraid. He must be tender, he can’t risk breaking her more than he already has. Again, what fools they are- he bluffs while she’s strong enough to pick up all the pieces and start again.
Touko is fed up, it’s not enough to satisfy her hunger. “Follow my lead.”
The kiss is deep, as well as the next, and the next after that… until her tongue is comfortable enough to slip through his open mouth. He is caught off guard, grabbing onto the sides of her shirt for dear life. He shakes under her touch as she moves her arms around his neck. His own tongue is stagnant under her control. She suckles until he pulls away, breathless and rosy. There is a risqué string of saliva connecting their distant mouths. She realizes how inexperienced he is, how different they truly are from each other. They move chaotically like flame to breeze, a hidden grace between the lines.
“Sorry,” he finally admits, but not for reasons she wants him to apologize for.
Forgiveness comes easily when it’s the one she’s hated, loathed, desired, and missed all at once. Touko sympathizes with the timorous gaze. He is still so innocent, as if untouched by the worldly evils around him. Even so, she waits. Time passes. That’s all she can do for him. All she has done for him. N’s chest stops heaving.
This is an odd time for him to wonder why she has a lighter in the first place. There is still much to learn about her. What has the world done to such a free soul?
The impatient girl halts his thought, for she kisses him once more. A pacific gesture, unlike her previous attempts. He matches with adamantine intention. His tongue purges faster this time, fiercely prying the inlet of her mouth. Giggling as she pulls away, her forehead rests against his.
“Neither of us can get this right,” she says between gasps for air, still amused by their switch of pace.
Shoulders relax once her smile sets like the sun. He tries again until she laughs, begging for him to slow down, egging him on to tease more. She beams at the serenity, an angel becoming cozy in his heaven. N daringly takes both hands in his. They create beauty between their fingertips and can destroy it as quickly as flame under water.
Touko prays silently under his lips for some apologetic syllables. And she’ll continue to wait, even if she has to roam the world and back once more.