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“I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Misaki’s voice cut through the still quiet of Takumi’s darkening apartment, her usually authoritative tone betraying a hint of seldom-seen vulnerability. Takumi had been reading--or dozing, maybe, it had been a long day and there was nothing that made him more comfortable than his girlfriend’s presence--on the couch, but immediately lifted his head up from the pages of his book. The dim glow from the kitchen lights reflected off his glasses.
“What do you mean, Misaki?” Takumi asked cautiously.
It wasn’t like her to admit weakness at all, and especially at a time like this, when they were alone together in his apartment. He could tell something had changed in the last few minutes, somewhere between page 124 and 126 of his book. She had been doing her homework as he read, annoyed in the first few minutes of sitting down in his little living room. Annoyed at the kiss he’d planted on the top of her raven head, annoyed at his completion of the assignment before her. After a couple minutes though, Misaki had quickly sunk into a state of deep concentration as she studiously scanned each page of the biology textbook.
Now the book was pushed aside, her meticulous notes neglected beside it. He could tell it just from her posture in his chair by the window, the way she seemed to curl into the corner of it with her legs to her chest, like she was hiding from something. Like if he pushed too hard, too much, she would run.
He kept his face gentle.
Misaki’s forehead scrunched up slightly, a corner of her mouth twitching down. Now that was a facial expression he was familiar with. Ayuzawa Misaki fighting with herself in some way was an everyday occurrence.
“It’s okay, Misa, you know I’ll listen,” Takumi encouraged.
Misaki’s brow furrowed further, and Takumi’s eyes narrowed as her arms pulled her knees in closer. No way this was something she needed to defend herself from him because of.
“Misaaaaaa…” her name rumbled in his throat, a warning and a beckoning all at once.
She swiftly grew obstinate at the perceived wheedling. “Usuiiiii…”
Now this was a Misaki he could work with. “What’s the problem, Prez? Can’t figure out one of the practice questions? Need a little help from your favorite tutor?” He leered at her, pleased as her hackles seemed to rise before his eyes.
“No, idiot. Who would need help from you?” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“Sick, then? You got a cold? Need me to take care of Misa-chan?” he leaned towards her across his knees.
“No way! You’re the one who gets sick, not me.”
“Something more serious, then?” He let out a gasp practically dripping with faux-drama. “Misaki, don’t tell me it’s...cancer?”
“What the—what kind of a conclusion to jump to is that!”
“I don’t hear you denying it Misa-chan. Come on, what’s the prognosis, you can tell sweet little Takumi—”
“I have a hard time admitting when there’s something I can’t do, okay?” she snapped, turning her face away from him.
Even in the fading light, he could see the flush painting her cheeks like the sunset they’d watched only hours before through his picture window, eating ramen they’d picked up on the way home from school. Takumi felt his heart give a little skip, like it did every time he saw that cute expression on his girlfriend. He really was defenseless to that face.
“I have a hard time believing you couldn’t do anything you set your mind to, Misaki.”
She turned back towards him, then, the quiet concern yet faith in her that had been so obviously heartfelt in his words and his green eyes seeming to settle her a bit. “That’s not true, Takumi.” She let out a sigh that seemed to shake the apartment. “I don’t know how…” Her voice trailed off once again.
Takumi sensed that the truth was on the way, and prompted her again softly.
“I don’t know how...to be gentle or loving or anything like that.”
If Misaki’s face had been red before, her blush now could rival a stoplight in its intensity. Takumi could practically feel the heat coming off of it from his seat several feet away. Or at least he would, if the warmth now emanating from his own heart wasn’t completely distracting him.
“I know that, Misaki, you know that’s never been an issue for me.” He smiled with gentle humor. “I know that’s the way you are. I’ve never expected more than that from you.”
“But I wish I wasn’t this way.” Her voice came a little quieter than before, and Takumi’s heart clenched a bit. Couldn’t she see that didn’t matter to him? That she didn’t need to be anyone than who she was, that she was the most important person to him? That just being with her made fireworks go off in his chest until he needed to hold her close just to stop the tremble in his fingers?
“But I love you anyway,” he said, trying for casual. The instant it was out of his mouth, he knew viscerally that was the wrong choice. This wasn’t the time for humor, he thought wildly, if Misaki was going to be vulnerable, he should too—
“I don’t care.”
Takumi felt his mouth drop open, eyes widening.
“That is—I—ugh, that didn’t come out right! Close your damn mouth,” Misaki said, freshly embarrassed. “I don’t care if you love me anyway. I want to be better.”
Takumi’s mouth opened again, this time to speak, but Misaki beat him to the punch.
“Teach me.”
She was completely serious, there in his leather armchair. He could see the tenacity in her eyes as golden brown met green, her hands clenched into fists on her knees. She mirrored his half-leaning position now, the back of the chair long-abandoned. He was stunned again into silence.
“Teach me.”
He watched in rapt attention as her eyes melted into liquid caramel and left his, the flush rose back to her cheeks as she peeked back at him through her lashes. Her dark tresses fell fetchingly around her face as her head tilted to the side.
“Teach me.”
God, who was this temptress?
“Takumi, teach me.”
It was like her voice was whispering into his ear rather than across his coffee table, and that combined with the sheer joy he always felt at her use of his first name, made a heatwave rise to his own cheeks at the dizzyingly attractive visual and auditory sensations she offered. “It seems like you’re doing a pretty good job already,” he said gruffly, hiding his mouth behind a fist.
Misaki’s lips quirked into an adorably lopsided smile, eyebrows coming together in a sheepish expression, and the sudden change in her demeanor threw Takumi yet again. Really, this girl was too cute for her own good!
“You’re just so much... better ...at this stuff than me,” she said, waving a hand between herself and him vaguely. “You can be so gentle with me. Like that time on the path to the onsen, all the times you’ve come to my rescue...even the little things! Just kissing my head when I sat down! Do you know how much that distracted me from the damn homework? And that was just a little thing! But I, I,” she simmered down again after her brief tirade, reminding him of a pot of water when the temperature is being changed, “I want to be able to do that too. I want to be able to show you I love you too.”
Takumi tried to respond as if she hadn’t just shoved a javelin of moe through his chest. “Okay, okay. I’ll teach you.” Her face lit up in honest satisfaction, tempered with just a little bit of the smug triumph that made his Misaki who she was. “But only because you asked so nicely...Misa.”
She flushed again at the way he drawled her nickname, and Takumi felt the control he’d been lacking through the conversation rush back into him. This he could do. He could help with this, with holding her, loving her, helping her to love him.
“Come here,” he beckoned, settling back to lie down on the couch and opening his arms to her. She stood, uncertainly, and then shook her head. Slow at first, and then more empathically.
“I can’t—I can’t—w-with that. That’s...too close. Too much. There’s not enough space on that couch for two side by side anyway.”
Takumi smiled magnanimously. “I’m sure we could make it fit, Misaki.” But she wouldn’t budge, head still wagging from side to side.
“We’ll do this then.”
With one smooth gesture, he grabbed the thick, oversized tan comforter draped over the back of the couch and let it sweep down to the floor, snagging the pillow closest to him as an afterthought. Sending a look of reassurance back over his shoulder, he plopped onto the floor, there in the center of his living room, and snuggled his way into the comforter.
“Come here, Misaki,” he said, smiling gently.
His beautiful girlfriend, disarmed by this new, cozily unassuming position, crept forward in her socks until she was standing beside him. For a moment, he feared that she would change her mind, that she’d continue right on past him to the door and straight out of this moment.
Then she knelt down, a small smile gracing her lips, and slipped into the comforter with him.
There she is.
“Settle down with me, Misaki,” he coaxed, wrapping one arm around her shoulders to pull her closer. Her posture was still somewhat hesitant, keeping a handbreadth of space between their bodies, her graceful neck propped up at an uncomfortable angle.
“You don’t look relaxed at all, Misaki. Lie down with me.” Humor lit his face. “I won’t bite this time.”
Misaki rolled her eyes at his antics, but scooted closer nonetheless. Still, she wasn’t nearly close enough for his liking. This won’t do at all.
“Misakiiii, I’m cold, cuddle with me,” he whined playfully. The straw that broke the camel’s back.
“Are you an elementary schooler?” she questioned, finally, finally snuggling into his side, into his arms, her head on the pillow beside him.
“Now pull me closer,” he said, voice low, looking into her beautiful, trusting eyes.
“W-what?” She seemed shocked by the directive.
“You asked me to teach you, remember? Pull me closer, darling.”
Face flushed at the command and the pet name, Misaki did as he suggested and wrapped her own arms around him, her face settling just below his.
The pair simply lay there for a moment, basking in each other’s warmth and comfort that was so uncommon, so special. Takumi, enjoying his girlfriend for once not pushing him and his romantic overtures away, left the teaching aside for a moment just to imprint the feel of her, of this, into his mind. Misaki seemed to appreciate the time to settle and get used to the sensation as well, so used to being independent that just taking comfort in her boyfriend like this was foreign, yet strangely magnetic. Both partners simply held the other, for once with no distractions or discretions between them.
After some time, Takumi nudged her nose with his own, smiling as her eyes opened from her place of enjoying the warmth he provided, inside and out. “Kiss me, Misa.”
This time, there was no hesitation.
Their mouths met, easy, slowly, softly. There was no need to rush here. Not here, in this beige bubble that was theirs alone. Takumi groaned softly, deep in his chest, to feel Misaki’s lips moving against his, the skimming of her tongue against the parting of his lips, the slight tug on his scalp as she pressed even closer to him to tangle her fingers through his hair. She answered him with a breathy sigh.
He took everything she gave him.
He gave her everything he possibly could right back.
God, how lucky was he? That this was his life. Here. With her.
When they stopped to catch their breath, Takumi stroked her cheek lightly, pushing a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. He watched in wonder as she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, like a housecat following his touch.
“I’m so lucky that I fell in love with you,” she whispered, her own fingers stroking through his hair, and he stopped thinking.
Again, they curled into each other inside their cocoon, lips brushing and melding together in something like a fire, burning low and steady. He kept going, losing himself in her, until she pulled away enough to meet his hazy eyes.
“You know, Takumi…”
“Mm?”
“I think I might be better at this than you are,” Misaki smirked, and Takumi felt an answering grin rise to his face unbidden. How could he ever have thought this woman a common housecat? Misaki was a wildcat, a force of nature. And she had chosen him. After all the rivalries, denials, and doubts, she had chosen him too.
“Misa, Misa, Misa. You should know that love isn’t a competition.” With the arm wrapped around her shoulders, he squeezed her a little tighter. “We’re both winners.”
“I guess I can live with winning with you,” Misaki snuggled her face into the crook of his neck, pressing her lips gently to his throat.
Oh yes, they were both winners.