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Since you were little, you have always served Ayato. Not only as an assistant, but you were also trained to be his bodyguard. Because of this, you eventually ended up attending the same high school with him.
Discretion . He told you on the first day. No one could know that you were actually hired by the Kamisato to look after his safety; even in institutes as wealthy as that one, threats were inevitable.
Now, you are sitting at your desk. The second row is ideal for watching Ayato's back.
Now, though, he's watching yours.
You've been feeling his eyes on the back of your neck for a while. The break between classes was dragging on longer than necessary, and Ayato was talking to his friends (rather, convenient acquaintances) at the back table.
You, however, were alert to make sure they weren't saying anything incoherent. Even though you seemed to be focused on your notes, you could never stop paying attention to your surroundings.
As, for example, the that note that ends up discreetly on your desk when the teacher arrives. Ayato looks at you with indifference when he returns to his seat, although he does not avoid curving a half smile on his lips.
Discreetly, you lower it to your lap to avoid unfortunate readings out loud. There are only four words when you open it: “Meet me after class.” And a heart.
You decide to discreetly kick his chair as you tuck the note in your pocket, lifting your leg high. “Okay.” You say aloud, as if talking to yourself.
You knew where he wanted to see you, even if the note didn't mention it.
At lunchtime and before going to the clubs, everyone usually eats in the cafeteria, or on the patio. However, the rooftop is for you. Or you and him. No one else.
The gentle breeze blows as you walk up to the railings with your hands behind your back. Ayato had not yet arrived. You looked at your lunchbox on the floor before you heard the door open.
You don't have time to react. When you want to realize, Ayato is at your back. You can distinguish the distinctive scent of his expensive cologne penetrating your nostrils. The gentleness of those long, warm fingers press against your cheek.
“I'm craving a different lunch today.” You can hear his soft, playful voice in your ear. “Will you let me try you again?” He asks in a chuckle.
Ayato turns you around, and you end up pressed against the bars gently. Your lord's hand curves under your chin and, when you want to realize it, you see the wistful glow in his violet glitter. It rests on your lips. Because of your runaway heart and closeness, you do nothing to stop him.
“You always can…” You muse.
You are in a secret relationship, after all. Because of this, you too cheer the warmth of his lips when Ayato places them on yours. They feel gentle and soft.
More and more pressed against the high bars, Ayato grabs your waist and clings as tightly as possible to you. You can make out his warmth close by hugging you. He keeps searching for your lips like a hungry man. More. More. In mere moments, you open your mouth so you can deepen further.
Ayato is a challenging man to satisfy and satiate. If he wanted to, he could stay there for hours, demanding your lips. Usually, it is you who reminds him of his responsibilities. Even if you had to use an inordinate amount of willpower to do so.
You shudder as his tongue makes its way inside your mouth and seeks yours in a slow rhythm. Small noises of satisfaction leave your lips as you continue kissing. You stroke his blue hair in an involuntary rhythm similar to the one you keep in your mouth.
Ayato's teeth nibble your lower lip gently. “Mine.” He proclaims. When you half-open your eyes, you can see him look at you longingly. Your chest rises and falls with your heavy breathing. You also feel an intense heat on your cheeks. Ayato releases your mouth and slides the tip of his nose down your cheek until it reaches your ear. “Say it.”
As if in a trance, you can't help but reply, “Yours.”
His smile curves against your skin. You've realized that he takes satisfaction in your loyalty and submission throughout your encounters. As a diligent servant, it is in your nature to be so. It is in that power that Ayato rejoices.
“Good girl.” He strokes your hair as a reward. You know he wants to kiss you again.
May he do it. You wish it thus.
“It is my duty.” You reply. But Ayato kisses your cheek now.
“And my whim.” He adds, smirking, resting his lips on yours. “Solely and entirely mine.”
You sigh and close your eyes again, tilting your face. You wonder if it's a whim for you too as you move them at a more desperate pace. With each brush of your tongues, you forget more and more about your limited time together.
Perhaps, for once, you will fulfill his infatuation.