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In all honesty, Mizuki doesn’t remember how it happened. One moment she’s stopping by to hand Ena a small gift–just some alcohol markers she’d caught on sale–the next, Mizuki’s world is swallowed up by sensation.
It’s… Foreign, familiar. Squishy. Hot. Warm. Teeth clatter–
A brief respite.
The small huff of air from Ena’s lips just inches away from her own sends tingles through Mizuki’s spine and a nervous jitter seizes her body until Ena leans in again. It’s scary how easily it quietens with her touch.
It’s like she needs it.
Ena doesn’t give Mizuki the space to reel as she feeds her breaths with her own, intertwining their hands like a lifeline. She’s tender and aggressive; generous and greedy. There’s no hesitance, to the point where even Mizuki finds it easy to squeeze back. She’s rewarded with a small smile, pressed tightly into her own. It feels good, Mizuki realizes. It feels good to be held like this, and to hold back in return.
She melts into Ena’s touch. Shoulders slumping, falling forward with unconscious ease, Mizuki can scarcely control her posture as her mind is fraying at the overwhelming presence of Ena.
Her scent, chestnut and sweet.
Her warmth, quiet and soft.
Her hold, tight and secure.
It’s so mesmerizing Mizuki can’t help but feel like she’s going to start an addiction. As if, after this moment, everything will change and she’ll never be the same again.
Kissing Ena… it’s everything she’s ever dreamed of.
Hold on.
They’re kissing right now.
The thought brings an ice bucket of self-awareness to Mizuki. She’s suddenly hyperaware of how she’s only following clumsy instinct, how her fumbling mouthing crumples against Ena’s surely practiced movements. Her confidence, unreal and absolute. Mizuki has no such thing. She’s just been smooshing her face in like a damn battering ram–it’s too much, isn’t it?!
The split-second thought is enough to speed her brain up, for the hesitance to fade back in as thought overrides impulse. She draws back, only slightly, trying to think through her actions; how tightly she should be holding Ena’s hands; how much pressure she should put into every contact. It slows her down, edging into a less frenzied state than before.
This is better, Mizuki thinks, retreating once again to give the pair pause. Even if it’s straining to hold back, at least, like this, they can breathe.
But that’s not what Ena wants.
A light press snaps her out of it. Hands climb Mizuki’s sides, racing over the fabric of her wrinkled shirt before–another push. This time heavier, stronger, and Mizuki’s stumbling back. Her eyes flutter open in surprise just in time to catch the moment her back collides with the wall.
Thud.
It isn’t as painful as it sounds, but the pang in her head is enough to make her wince.
She yelps and Ena snaps away as the hands gripping her shoulders leap to cradle the affected spot, gently rubbing the back of Mizuki’s head. “Shit. Sorry–are you okay?” Ena gasps, and between her own panting breaths Mizuki can feel her girlfriend’s panicked gaze. “Did I hurt you?”
Mizuki’s mind is spinning far too fast to answer. Her lips sear and her shoulders are still reeling from the ghost contact of her touch. She can almost still feel her pressing, comforting grip and she’s struggling to take in Ena’s still sudden closeness and her scent and her breaths and her–
Her gaze tilts down. For the briefest second, she meets Ena’s flustered eyes and catches the way they widen and her cheeks, already flushed, redden more before she ducks and Mizuki’s suddenly left staring at the floor. She can feel Ena’s warm, light, breaths on her collarbone now, the way they punctuate as she speaks again.
“Mizuki,” her own name against her neck, “say something, anything.”
One of Ena’s hands falls to Mizuki’s back, pulling her into the smaller girl. “Answer me,” the demand is so soft it’s more of a plea.
“Please.”
But Mizuki can’t. Not verbally. It’s like her throat has been squeezed, like she’s swallowed a bubble. She’s still staring at the floor, only now that vision of russet floorboards is distorting, blurring, and her smile trembles. When her hand moves it’s not conscious, rather magnetically pulled into Ena’s tilted-down face. A split-second of unfounded boldness is what finds Mizuki contact with her soft cheek, thumb running over burning skin. The second impulse has her prompting Ena to look back up. It’s just a gentle nudge, and Mizuki doesn’t really think before doing it. Was it impatient? Maybe, but she doesn’t regret it. Not when Ena does look back up and she suddenly finds herself facing the warmest sight in the world.
Her brow is crinkled from embarrassment. Her eyes scrunch with anticipation, and her frown teeters on the edge of a pout. In all her ruby-red glory, Ena Shinonome peers up at Mizuki with the nerves of a newborn foal. It’s a new expression on her, a rare expression, and even as thumbs come up to wipe away Mizuki’s tears, she can’t get herself to look away.
Just like the girl in front of her, the smile on her lips is stubborn. So stubborn, in fact, that as Mizuki parts it, tries to finally appease the quiet demand reflecting in Ena’s eyes, her lips slam back together, making the only syllable she can pronounce, “so.”
Ena waits a beat for her to continue. Her eyes widen, twitch, and her jaw slackens. She scans Mizuki once, twice, each time a greater flash of horror settling between her features. The hands on Mizuki’s cheeks stop their caress, and Ena steps away.
“Brain damage… It’s brain damage… I’ve given you brain damage–shit.”
Her cold absence snaps back clarity into Mizuki’s mind.
“What?” She laughs. “You haven’t given me brain damage, silly. I’m just…” Concern flickers on and off in Ena’s expression as Mizuki suddenly feels hyperaware of the attention. She finishes in a featherlight whisper, reaching out for Ena’s hands. “Overwhelmed.”
Apparently her smile isn’t enough assurance, because Ena’s still scanning her for doubt. It’s kind of cute to see the way her brows knot together, kind of unsettling to think it’s because she doubts her. The guilt is etched in her distance, so Mizuki closes it. Edging forwards, she slips her hands into her own, squeezing them gently. “In a good way,” she promises, taking one set of entwined hands against Ena’s cheek.
“Y-yeah?” Ena stammers, squeezing back. “Okay, okay. Don’t scare me like that again.” She drops Mizuki’s gaze, voice quietening. “I am too…”
There’s something about the loss of her doe eyes that triggers something in Mizuki. A sort of cuteness aggression, some might say, as she finds herself pressing into a hedgehog cheek.
“So shy, Enanan… So cute.”
Ena’s face flares up in protest but before she can deny anything Mizuki stops her with a kiss of her own. It’s near impossible not to smirk at the flustered noise that escapes the brunette, harder still not to start melting again when Ena returns it, but somehow Mizuki manages.
She whispers a soft “thank you” against Ena’s lips as she pulls away. There’s too many causes to specify what for, so Mizuki hopes the simplest approach would be enough.
Of course, Ena betrays herself in her reply. “Hah? Thank me for what? I just hit you against a wall!”
There’s no recognition in her voice. As well as she may pride herself on reading Mizuki, it seems like properly thanking her for everything that she is, is something Mizuki will have to devote her life to. Because putting it all to words herself is far too impossible a task.
(‘Her life.’ God, when did she start thinking like that?)
(That’s dangerous, Mizuki. Slow down.)
Still, unlike Ena, Mizuki does not betray her thoughts in her smirk. “Enanan did the kabedon completely wrong, but it was a flattering attempt.” She slips into a crooked smile. “Or, heh, flattening.”
“What? I wasn’t trying to kabedon you, dumbass!”
“So you just hit me against the wall for no reason?”
Ena unlatches their hands and smooshes her palms against Mizuki’s cheeks, as if directing their faces towards each other was going to hide the tomato red of her own. “You were thinking too loud!! That’s my reason.”
Mizuki squirms in her grip. “In my defense, I wasn’t expecting to get k-kissed today!”
A beat.
Two.
If Mizuki’s lips were still tingling from Ena’s touch, the sensation redoubles itself from the words she’d just said. Kissed. Mizuki and Ena had… Kissed. It feels so much more real now.
The warmth blooming from Mizuki’s cheeks oozes into Ena’s palms as the brunette recovers from her own stunlock and softens. “Well, get used to it.”
Mizuki turns away, as far as Ena allows. It’s not far, and she can still see the girl smiling triumphantly in her peripheral vision. The sight makes her mouth twitch and suddenly she feels the urge to tease. “Not the wall-slamming, I hope.”
Ena’s smile drops like a rock. “I said I’m sorry!”