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Kimiko held onto his face, sitting there in their office, so familiar yet so strange with second hand placed on his shoulder. He was crying, sobbing, her Frenchie, always so strong was there, broken, and desperate. And she wasn’t sure what to do, how to help, her body hurt in ways she couldn’t imagine few days ago and he was crying, so close to her yet so far away.
And Serge was devastated beyond understanding. There were no words he could say to describe his feelings. Little Nina broke him, and he was worried this time it couldn’t be fixed. Maybe she was right, maybe he was the one responsible for all those things that happened to him. Maybe he was the failure. Mistake. Maybe he deserved all of this. Unlovable. Horrible person. Fraud.
And now because of him Kimiko and Cherie suffered. Usually when bad things happened, he managed to laugh it off, because he just got used to it but this? He was shaking, sobbing and he felt like complete failure.
He put their lives to risk.
Kimiko knew that. She was deep in her own problems, yet Frenchies problems seemed more urgent, because she never saw him like this. And she couldn’t help him. An that was eating her from inside. He was there for her, always and now, when he needed help, she was of no use.
She decided and leaned slowly towards him. It hurt horribly, she felt her body telling her not to, but she musted – for him. She leaned to him and with her finger she wiped his tears, and he raised his head to look at her, surprised. She smiled lightly and gently caressed his face ash she moved forward and kissed him.
Softly. Last time they kissed, in the hospital, she was kissing him for sake of it. To simply do that, to show interest in doing that with him, but this time it was different. This time she was kissing him because of him. To show him how much she cares about him and how any of those horrible things Nina said about him didn’t affect her view of him. Quite the opposite actually.
She saw him. She saw the fear in his eyes, the pain on his face and the inability to choose between her and Cherie. Kimiko knew far too well about his relationship with her, and she understood that he cares about Cherie without even thinking about it badly. The fact that he didn’t pick was proof he was a good man.
She kissed him and moved back, seeing how his face expression changed into slightly surprised.
“Mon Ceour…” He whispered so he wouldn’t wake up Cherie. That caught him off guard and threw him from his pit of despair. There was so much affection in that kiss…
She smiled back even more and raised her hands slowly. It hurt. Then she moved them in one simple sign, sign she didn’t use ever since Kenji died, few simple movements.
“I love you.”
Serge stopped breathing. He knew what that meant, he knew that far too well and yet it seemed so unrealistic, so… She couldn’t love him. His petite Kimiko, loving somebody like him.
“Mon Ceour.” He repeated and this time those little two words meant more than ever before.
She kept looking at him, smiling. Like angel of hope in the cruel, horrible word.
“I love you no matter what Little Nina says. You are awesome, loving and caring man and those things she said were not true.” The urgency in pace of her signing was almost touchable. And Serge stared at her, unable to move. She loved him. She meant it. She repeated it. And Kimiko wouldn’t lie to him.
This was new, weird feeling. He always hoped Kimiko had feelings towards him, hell, he loved her for years now. From almost first moment he saw her. And yet her telling him this seemed like a dream.
He smiled back at her, breathing out and… feeling way better. She loved him.
“I love you too, Kimiko. Je t'aime.” He whispered while signing it with his hands and watched her smile even brighten. This moment, even after everything he was happy and he knew she was happy. He couldn’t but hug her, carefully so he wouldn’t hurt her and hide her in his arms. She loved him.
He loved her.
Whatever was about to happen, they would have each other and they were finally sure what they had.
They loved and had each other and Nina could, quoting Serge, lick their anus.