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Honebami Miroslava was, to put it simply, the most gorgeous woman Itsuki had ever seen. With olive eyes that seemed to hold more emotion than she let on, beautifully fair skin seemingly unmarred by her work, and platinum hair that Itsuki often imagined carding her hands through, she was nothing short of perfect.
Itsuki had liked to think she was above schoolgirl crushes after Kaede, that she was above being foolishly, so foolishly in like with someone. Liked to think she was above letting her heart get stolen away, but Miroslava was quickly proving that wrong.
Ever since they’d met, but especially since the moment Miroslava had pushed her against a wall (and God, how that moment was stuck on replay in Itsuki’s mind), she’d found herself making excuses to see her.
Needing help with homework.
Not wanting to eat lunch with Mary, ‘cuz she wouldn’t shut up about Ririka.
Wanting someone to walk her back to her dorm.
Simply being bored.
Wanting to paint someone’s nails.
Every possible excuse, no matter how ridiculous it may seem, had come up whenever they saw each other. Talking to Miroslava felt surreal, like living in a dream. Itsuki’s heart always felt like it was about to beat out of her chest whenever they spoke, and any words she found were nothing more than nonsense. Tripping over herself in a way that never seemed to happen with Kaede, solely because Miroslava was talking to her. In fact, whenever Mira looked at her, she found herself forgetting Kaede ever existed in her life.
Was this was love was like?
Did this mean what she had with Kaede just a crush? A distraction from boredom? Because it was nothing compared to how Miroslava made her feel, alive and important and special.
And if love was nonsensical, if it was helpless and confusing and messy, Itsuki found that she didn’t quite mind.
Nonsense was beautiful, in some way.