Chapter Text
Sumire giggled as the boy she snagged for the night clumsily hit his forehead on the wall in his haste to kiss her. He whispered a curse right next to her ear, causing her to shiver despite the heat their closeness provided. Still, she liked to blame her reaction on the nonexistent cold weather other than admitting outright he had an effect on her.
She and Kiko went to the bar to celebrate the end of their finals and unwind before the new semester. She could deal with the loud noises, but Kiko was definitely in her element as she chatted up the bartender and made small talk with other girls. Sumire was content to nurse her glass of whiskey, the air sticky and humid with dancing bodies and vibrating with deafening bass.
Amid drinks and chatter, Sumire kept locking eyes with a guy with cat-like ocean eyes and a brooding demeanor. Kiko herself had been shyly approached by a young man with different colored eyes, Kiko blushing and looking to Sumire for guidance. Sumire, in turn, pushed her toward the guy (he seemed nice), which left her to go ahead and approach the cat-eyed boy, poking him incessantly until he talked. She couldn’t understand this pull to him but maybe it was because he looked so mysterious and alone. And she wanted to worm herself into his life, if only for a short while.
As the night wore on, Sumire found she enjoyed his snarky mouth and barely-there smiles. He wasn’t a talker but every sentence he spoke held weight and thought. Alcohol really did wonders because it gave her the courage to take his hand and drag him outside, leaning her back on a secluded wall and pulling him to her. Which led to now.
“You okay?” she whispered, because it was polite to check on him, despite not even knowing the guy. All she knew was he had big hands and deep blue eyes she could drown in forever.
He grunted but wasted no time trying to kiss her, their noses bumping before their lips met in a fiery kiss. Her hand found its way on his broad shoulder, holding him closer and mewling at how his large hands seemed to encircle the whole circumference of her waist. Was she that tiny or was he just big? It turned her on anyway, so she didn’t care much, exhaling into his mouth and twining their tongues together before she parted from him to catch her breath.
The boy took his time to pepper kisses on her neck, a laugh bubbling out of Sumire as she pushed his chin whining, “Stop, it tickles.”
He did, pulling away from her to see her face yet keeping their bodies close together. She could feel the heat from his hands bracketing her waist (she hoped the heat imprinted itself on her skin.) His lips were moist and kiss-bitten and all she could register was the wanton desire for those lips to ravish her until her mind blanked. So why wasn’t he doing all those and more? She blinked at him, wondering why he stopped.
“You’re beautiful.”
Sumire rolled her eyes but couldn’t deny the warmth that spread from her cheeks to her ears at the praise. Her heart definitely didn’t skip a beat.
“Flattery will get you nowhere, you know,” she teased, trailing a finger from his chest upwards and flicking his chin. He pouted and grumbled, his eyes avoiding hers. She took the lead this time, caressing the back of his head and pulling him to her, their lips slotting together once again.
Images of a similar-looking man in a black uniform and mismatched haori floated in her mind. She couldn’t help the uncanny feeling that man looked just like the boy she’s currently making out with. She pushed those images aside but another fuzzy image appeared, and this time it was a woman who shared Sumire’s face, placid smile on her pale lips as she drank a liquid as violet as her eyes. Sumire gasped, breaking the kiss. Who was that? And why did she look so much like her?
The boy looked at her quizzically, backing off after sensing a change in mood.
“Still okay?” he asked.
It warmed her heart he was checking with her, but the images conjured by her mind couldn’t keep still. She smiled wryly at him, remembering how she saw in her mind’s eye a man that looked just like him. But the man looked so much older and haunted by a million ghosts, not like the boy who stood before her who was so inexperienced yet willing to please. No, this wouldn’t do. Not when she was so preoccupied with whoever those people were. They couldn’t be conjured from her imagination, and something in her gut told her they lived different lives in another time.
She pushed him gently by the shoulder, and he took it as a sign to step away. She gave him a wan smile of thanks.
“Just… something on my mind. But it’s not you, it’s me.” She mentally slapped herself for saying such a cliché line. She hurried to add, “Believe me when I say that. Listen, you’re cute and interesting but something just came up and I wouldn’t want to impose on you when I can’t one hundred percent fully focus on the now.”
He blinked slowly, as if processing her words. She looked at him, nervously tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. He met her eyes. She could practically see the gears turning in his mind.
“So, you want to do this again sometime?”
Her jaw dropped. That was not the point! But she… well, she certainly wouldn’t mind doing it again some other time. If they actually saw each other again. She didn’t know where he lived or if he was already working, but if they ended up at the same bar, he may live nearby. No, Sumire. Focus.
“That’s not the point. The point is I have to go.” She slipped away from him, goosebumps rising along her arms in the chill of the night and the loss of body heat from him. She turned back to him. “Thank you for…”
What did she call it?
“The make-out session?”
Sumire flinched at his forthrightness. She could only laugh awkwardly, tucking wayward hair behind her ear.
“Ara ara aren’t you tactless?”
He merely shrugged, and something about the gesture made Sumire zone in on the movement of his shoulders, something resigned and weighty in it.
She settled on saying, “Tonight. Thank you for tonight. I wish you well.” She bowed and ran away from the place, silently apologizing to Kiko for leaving her in the dust like that.
Sumire wondered why the places he touched had her skin tingling, but supposed it was just from the cold.
~Butterfly Estate, interior~
“Ne, Tomioka?” Hmm, he should talk more. Yes, she should tell him.
Her mind blanked for a second when his large hand ran down the smooth expanse of her thigh, his touch almost worshipping and sending sparks of pleasure along her skin, his eyes locked on hers and gauging for her reactions. She exhaled shakily when he rubbed the bone jutting out by her ankle, feeling almost every rough pad of his fingers.
“Quiet,” he commanded in an even tone as he parted her thighs to give his head space.
Shinobu quietly laughed. “So demanding.” Yet she allowed herself to be maneuvered every which way, all for him.