InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ Fleeting ❯ Longing ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

un_love_you prompt:  #09 – “Always wondered what this’d be like.”

Kagome sighed as she stared at the phone.  Boys suck, she silently groused.

Not that she felt anything less than pathetic at that moment anyway.  Here it was, Friday night, and she was sitting by the phone, waiting for a guy to call her up and ask her out.  Admittedly, it wasn’t just any guy:  Kouga was something of a manwhore, but his smile was powerful enough to make her melt into a puddle of doe-eyed twelve-year-old all over again.  

I need to give up on the flakes, she told herself as the phone continued to defy her.  They are not worth the frustration.  Sure, Kouga wasn’t the great love of her life, but he was all the action she’d seen in the last six weeks.  Following her humiliating exit from the Halloween party, she’d become something of an outcast among her social set.  The desperate end-of-the-semester crunch had softened the blow, but now that classes were over and most of her fellow students were heading home for winter break, her loneliness had resurfaced.

Losing a huge chunk of her social network wasn’t the only humiliating outcome of that horrible Halloween night – she’d also managed to botch any chance she had with her hot-as-fuck but arrogant-as-hell roommate.  Her memories of that night were mostly hazy…except, of course, her failed seduction attempt, which stood out in crystal clear, stark relief.  He hadn’t rejected her outright, but perhaps what he had done – given her a flicker of hope – was even crueler.  

They hadn’t spoken of that evening since, but things hadn’t been the same between them.  Lost to her in the mad dash to finish the semester was how he managed to build yet another barrier around himself, but one day, she looked up and there it was.

There was no stopping her crush, though:  it grew and grew and grew, in spite of not having any rational nourishment.

Yes, she had a lot of reasons to feel pathetic right now.

The slam of the apartment’s front door startled her from her brooding.  She glanced up over the back of sofa in the common room to see Sesshoumaru, as if she’d summoned him by the power of her thoughts.  Covertly, she watched as he stripped out of his winter gear, hanging his coat and hat and gloves on the hooks in the foyer.

He picked up his bag and headed towards the hallway that led to their bedrooms, stopping short when he realized he was not alone.  “You’re still here?” he blurted out, rather incredulously.

She furrowed her brow as she regarded him.  “I live here too, you know,” she replied, curling up under her favorite blue blanket.

He graced her with a rare smile.  “That’s not what I meant,” he demurred. “I’m just surprised you’re here, instead of out with your…friends.”

She cast another wry look at the phone.  “It’s hard to go out and have fun when nobody wants you.”

He didn’t respond to that, but his smile withered away.  After a long moment, he spoke again.  “Are you going home for the break?”

“No,” she sighed.  “My family is taking yet another ski vacation, but I opted out.  You?”

“I can’t afford to,” he said with a shrug.  “My thesis is kicking my ass, and my advisor wants to see the next chapter in two weeks.”  He rubbed his eyes.  “I haven’t even started the research for it yet.”

Kagome’s wounded pride softened as she gazed at him, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion.  At least her work was over for the duration; she dreaded the very idea of a graduate program if it meant working overtime like he’d been.  He’d put in long nights for the last three weeks just to finish preparing the last chapter of his master’s thesis, and if his body language was anything to go by, it hadn’t gone over very well with his advisor.

“Well, I’m going to bed,” he announced, tightening the grip on the strap of his shoulder bag and turning on his heel.

“Wait!” she cried, jumping up from her perch.  

He glanced back at her questioningly, but she felt her words stick to the back of her throat.  

“Do you at least have time for a cup of tea?” she finally managed to choke out.

Her heart began to pick up speed as he contemplated her offer.  Finally – after what seemed like an eternity – his shoulders softened.  “Sure,” he agreed, albeit tiredly.

“Great!” she chirped, moving round to guide him over to the sofa.  He laughed softly as she pushed him to sit down, and then draped her blanket over him.  “You just sit here and relax, and I’ll be right back.”

“All right,” he replied dutifully, pulling the strap of his bag over his head and setting it down on the floor beside his feet.  

Kagome smiled to herself as she walked into their small kitchen.  Tea was her weakness:  she drank it no matter what the weather, enjoying everything from basic black tea to more exotic herbal infusions.  She was a purist, buying loose tea whenever possible – but she could also be lazy, and indulged in tea bags for convenience.  As such, her tea collection was rather vast, taking up an entire cabinet on her side of the kitchen.  She pulled open the cabinet door and pored over its contents for something appropriate.   Considering the weather, the season, and the reason, she finally settled on peppermint.  It was not only festive, but also reputed for its relaxing qualities.

Ten minutes later she reappeared in the common room, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and a plate of fruit bars.  Sesshoumaru’s head was turned away from her as she walked into the room, so she eased the tray onto the small table in front of him.

“It’s ready,” she announced, picking up one of the mugs and turning to hand it to him.

That’s when she realized that he was fast asleep, his head resting on the back of the sofa, his chest rising and falling softly beneath her blanket.

Kagome smiled and sat next to him, curling her legs under herself.  She didn’t have to heart to wake him up, considering how exhausted he’d been lately.  Even now, under the guise of sleep, he looked worn out.  For a moment, she wondered just how deep into the night he’d been working of late.

She sipped the tea, relishing the heat that flooded through her, not only from her beverage, but also from being so close to this man she’d lusted after for so long.  She’d never had the opportunity to study him so intimately as she did now, at least not while sober.  He was absolutely beautiful, somehow managing to pull off the combination of pale skin and silvery hair without looking inherently sickly.    His features, so sharp and angular when awake, were somewhat softer in repose.  The line of his brow, the turn of his nose, the shape of his mouth belied a fine-boned delicacy reserved only for the leisurely aristocratic.

She carefully replaced her now-empty cup on the tray.  She knew she should take these things back to the kitchen and put them away, just like she knew she should wake him up and pack him off to bed, but she didn’t.  She wanted to stay exactly where she was, studying him, nursing her hopeless crush.

She sank into the overstuffed sofa beside him, laying her head on the cushion next to his.  The long locks of his hair spilled over his eyes, covering his cheek, shining softly in the overhead light.  She bit her lip as she stared, trying to decide if touching him would wake him up.  From what she could discern in the few short months she’d lived with him, he was a heavy sleeper.  Or at least, he’d never shown any signs of being disturbed when she came home late – or with someone else.

You really are pathetic, she admonished herself, feeling guilty at the thought of touching him – even innocently – while he was asleep.  He’d never given her any indication that he considered her anything more than a roommate, perhaps a grudging friend, at best.  Must she really stoop so low, to indulge in her crush while he was unawares?

At the same time, the risk of rousing him sent a thrill down her spine.  What would he do if he woke up and found her hands on him?

Only one way to find out, she mused, suddenly emboldened by the notion.

Even so, the first sweep of her hand was short, tentative.  When he didn’t stir, she brushed her fingers through his hair, reveling in its silkiness.  Soon enough she was combing through his lengthy locks, her hand starting at his temple and moving all the way over his shoulder.  Her gentle strokes brought her body closer to his, drawing her inner warmth outward, cloaking her.

His head slipped down, moving closer to hers on the cushion.  She glanced up into his face, her roving hand hovering just above his ear, and watched closely for any signs of him stirring awake.

The pattern of his breathing never broke.  

She lowered her gaze, looking at her blanket covering him, and had a sudden, overwhelming urge to lift it up and burrow into him, fitting her body into the cradle of his.  Even though most of her fantasies involved doing far less innocent things to him between a set of sheets, some little part of her had always wondered what it would be like to cuddle with him, to be held softly, gently, securely, in silent reassurance of his love.  

Her mother always said that cuddling could make anything and everything instantly better, from wounded knees to broken hearts.

I suppose he hasn’t broken my heart yet, she mused to herself, her eyes rising again to his face.  She lifted her hand from his hair and touched him directly, his skin surprisingly smooth under her fingers.  She traced the delicate arch of his brow, the straight line of his nose, the gentle swell of his cheek.  

She was overcome by something swift and painful just then, some unknown sensation underpinned by longing and desire.  As her fingers found the contours of his mouth, she felt her own breath shuttering in her lungs.  She wanted him, yes – she’d known that for months now.  Only now was she realizing that what she wanted from him was not just pleasure, but comfort as well.  

She felt giddy and stupid and pathetic and lonely all at once – so close, and yet so far from where she truly wanted to be with him.  She knew he thought of her as reckless and irresponsible, maybe a bit shallow and self-absorbed, like the people she socialized with.  But she also knew he found her attractive, or at least he had, once upon a time.  Along with the lingering humiliation of Halloween night, she remembered the look in his eyes when she’d invited him out, as well as when she’d attempted to kiss him, sloppy seduction or no.

And if she kissed him now…?

Maybe I am pathetic, she thought as she eyed him, a myriad of emotions tumbling through her head and her heart.  Even though he’s asleep…and he’ll never know…

…I still want to.

She took a deep breath and, before she could talk herself out of it, leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his, bracing her hand on the nape of his neck.  She could feel her blood rushing through her veins, her heart fluttering against her ribs, her stomach turning over on itself as the rest of her body tensed in anticipation.  

She felt tears prickling behind her eyes when the gentle pressure of her lips to his was unreturned.

She let him go, a small, wry smile playing at the corners of her mouth as she pulled away.  It was satisfying and heartbreaking all at once; even an unacknowledged kiss had eased away some of the uneasy longing that filled her – just as she knew it would.

She took another deep breath and released it slowly, opening her eyes to look at him once more.  He was beautiful –boyish –exhausted – and, unfortunately, currently beyond her reach.  

But, hopefully, not forever.

Reluctantly, she stood up and turned to face him.  He’d be irritated if he didn’t have a decent night’s sleep, that much she did know from past experience.  “Come on, Sesshoumaru, wake up,” she cajoled, leaning over him and shaking his shoulder.  

When he didn’t stir, she smirked.  Don’t tempt me, she thought recklessly, finding the idea of falling into his lap and using other methods of arousal all too appealing.  She checked that urge, however, allowing herself to press a light kiss to his temple instead, murmuring her plea in his ear.

He awoke with a sigh and a groan.  “Mmm, peppermint,” he mused, inclining his head towards her as she retreated from the intimate stance.  His eyes fluttered open, still bleary with sleep.

“Time for bed, mister,” she teased, picking up the tray.

He gave her a long, assessing stare before answering her smile with his own.  “Yes,” he echoed tiredly, “bed.”  He swept her blanket aside, wearily picking himself up and reaching for his bag.  

He started off down the hall, but turned back after only a few steps, sending her a thoughtful look.

“Just a word of caution, Kagome,” he murmured, his voice soft and low, almost ominous to her ears.  “Don’t start something you don’t intend to finish.”

He left her with those words, turning back down the hall on ever-silent feet, disappearing into his room.

She could only stare after him, her knuckles white as she clutched the tray, and wonder…