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"Logically speaking, this is not a difficult task," Kent muttered to himself, tapping lightly at the tickets. Kent closed his eyes, a short, humorless bark of laughter escaping his lips. "If all else fails, I suppose I could ask Ikkyu to come with me instead," he said to the empty room, a small twist to his lips.
Kent glanced back down to the letter on his desk, the tickets held neatly on the corner of it by a paper clip. Roughly, Kent pushed back from his chair and stood up, pacing the length of his room. With a large, heartfelt sigh, Kent grabbed his phone and dialed the number. "I need your help."
"Oh? Are you calling because your girlfriend has fallen madly in love with me?"
"That is hardly the case," Kent replied, chest going inexplicably tight. He could still remember the day she and Ikkyu first met, and how he secretly dreaded that meeting. The thought still plagued Kent that she might fall for his best friend's "magical" eyes, not that he would ever disclose such information to either of them.
"What is it then? Another puzzle, perhaps? Whatever it is, you know you can't defeat me, Ken."
"I want to ask her to marry me," Kent answered, his own eyes widening in response. That wasn't what he meant to say. He didn't want marriage, not yet, at least.
"Do you not know the custom of proposing?" Ikkyu asked, amusement clearly lacing his tone, but beneath the amusement, Kent could detect the wistfulness in his friend's voice.
"That was not what I intended to say. I would like your advice on how to ask her to come abroad with me."
"Ah," Ikkyu said knowingly. "We've already had this conversation before, Ken. Why do you want her to go with you?" Kent nearly scoffed aloud at the question. Yes, they had gone over this before, but the question Kent had asked was different back then.
"We are not doing this again," Kent replied, thinking back to the time Ikkyu asked a question just like this one when Kent needed advice on how to approach the topic of hand holding with his girlfriend.
Still, he couldn't help but answer the question in his head, imagining her smile and laughter, and how he always wanted to be able to see her happy. He imagined the feeling of her soft hand entwined with his own, imagined the spark in her eyes as they bantered with one another. God, he imagined the feeling of her silken lips moving against his, gentle and inquisitive in their touch.
Then again, they weren't just imaginings made up from his fantasies; they were memories, and god, did Kent want to make more of them with her. "I know why I want her to come," he finally murmured into the phone.
"Then, tell her."
"Okay." And Kent did just that.