Chapter Text
Maya loved Aya because Aya did not care that Maya was prone to rambling, or working herself up over things, or feeling like a complete failure. To Aya, those were the things that made her so loveable. They both had their fears and doubts about being idols, and they could work through them together, without fear, safe.
“I want to write a song about you,” Maya said. It broke the comfortable silence between them.
They were in the comfort of her own home. They didn’t have to worry about being hounded by fans here, or being caught in a relationship. They were sat on the floor, Aya braiding her girlfriend’s hair with practised ease.
She made a small noise, humming somewhat, as she quirked her eyebrows. Maya couldn’t see her face anyway. “But won’t that mean that I’ll be singing a song about myself?”
Maya cleared her throat, covering her face ever so slightly. “It’s not for Pastel*Palettes to perform. I just want to write it for myself.”
Suddenly Aya felt very bashful. Her face went as pink as her hair and she abruptly stopped braiding, flapping her arms slightly in dismissal. “Oh, stop it! Well, no, don’t stop it, but stop it! You’re making me blush!”
“Huhehe.”
“No! Don’t laugh at me!” Aya’s words had no real bite behind them. She was just flustered, flapping like a bird like always. It was adorable, at least to Maya.
“Sorry. I’m just glad you feel sort of embarrassed about it like I do.”
Aya paused, scrunching her face slightly in her thought. “Is it bad that we feel embarrassed?”
“No,” Maya said, “I don’t think so. And you feel embarrassed about almost everything, anyway.”
“I guess that’s true,” Aya sighed. A lot of people knew her as the bashful idol for a reason.
The truth was that Maya felt there was no other way to express her love other than through song. It was hopelessly cheesy, but she’d always felt like the only way for her to properly communicate was through her music.
“I love you a lot,” she said quietly. “Just as much as I love music. But I find it hard to tell you that, sometimes. That’s why I want to write the song.”
“You just did.”
Maya paused. “Huh?”
Aya was grinning, the knowing in her face undeniable. It was hard to get Maya to admit her emotions so openly. She understood that, she didn’t mind, Maya’s love was obvious. But the words had just slipped right out of her when her guard was down. It was amazing. “You just told me how much you love me.”
Maya finally turned around to face her, incredulous, face red. “I did?”
“You did.”
“I did.”
Huh.
So it was that simple.
Maya pressed a hand to her cheek, felt the burn of her emotions lying there. She gazed into Aya’s eyes, and there was a feeling of wholeness that she hadn’t felt before. “I’m still writing that song,” she murmured.
Aya laughed, the sound music to her ears, and pressed a tender kiss onto the bridge of Maya’s nose. “I look forward to hearing it. Now, could you turn back around? I want to finish braiding your hair.”