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As the night set in, the lights and the shadows grew colder and so did the wind. The darkness in the room seem to set up a strange mood. Something Ayaka never felt, but the unfamiliarity of it did not scare her. It seemed like she found the answer to a question it hadn't been asked yet, the comfort of knowing an incognita. Very contradicting, but it didn't matter. Not at all.
It didn't even took space in her brain when that struck her.
Contrasting with the obscurity of the room, the moonlit balcony seem like an invitation. The most refined and exclusive, like the center of a huge stadium, yet with the casualness and intimacy of, well, a balcony. Of course when the heavy curtains flutter slightly, strong and compelling steps made their way through. The moment she stepped in it seem to complete the image. The curtains stopped their dancing, as if afraid of stealing the show.
Struck by this reality Ayaka couldn't, she just….
-You look like a piece of art-
-I know I haven't seen that many paintings but come on. I-I mean i am flattered but…- she was interrupted
-You can't see yourself from my point of view. The straight bars frame the picture, you are in the middle of it, as every element moves, accommodates and flows to you. The moon, shines on you delicately, like a veil, yet seemingly merges with your skin. It makes little crystals which give some patches of crips definition opposing the smooth unlit skin. Oh, but it is impossible to stop at that when below your shoulders hugging your chin and traveling all the way to the top, your hair seems to shine on its own. It isn't that usual warm blond, but way ashier. It is a key piece in this art, since it is the only thing that dictates a windy night. The stillness of everything else seems to bring forward the gentle swaying of each hair. Each follicle painted purposefully in a way that would make impossible to not watch the other that shines right beside the first one. As each fiber begins to shape into a strand, the very first thing that made the viewer come up close, makes its way to their eyes.
The anticipation built up after swimming and swooning for every detail, intensifies the experience. And with wonder I say "it truly does not disappoint".
The face seems a little too obscure at first, so you need to pay more attention and… oh. Then you understand why it was obscured, the moon's jealousy and the artist's pride wouldn't allow it. Such epiphany should've been treated with the utmost care.
The two little gems that greet you with shyness. Behind them, two eyes seemingly unaware of the looker. Looking in the distance, hinting at something else. The illusion is there, you believe it at first, until you encounter another shade of skin and that is what makes you realize the absurd geniusness of the painter. A subject which seems like every other moonlit painting subject, now tells a story. Who is the viewer?, what provoked such a wonderful expression?, what could be so terribly embarrassing that would not only make them blush but to also look away?...
-You- immediately cuts in - that-that just…
Ayaka was aware that she should be terribly embarrassed, ashamed at least. One thing is swooning for your crush in silence, but this was totally unheard of. And uncalled.
Oh but could she even afford to be aware of anything else when Yoimiya speaks?
-maeby it could be a two emmm…subject? Thingy, I mean art, uhhh or painting? Just…!-
Her hand stretched, caressing her heart, claiming her nerves. The steps wobble terribly, as if the wood tiles were just floating above water. Her eyes suddenly snapped to the floor as if would help her balance. An open hand, palm up appeared.
She took it.
The other was out of view, even as it made itself known in Ayakas cheek. It was like a puzzle finally clicking together.
Eyes slowly connecting, with a smidge of shyness now, but a newfound mutual desire.
And to fulfill each other's wishes, their lips met as that answer to the unspoked question.