lunar_gale
in
no_air
[Email Log] [Another Evening ‘In’] [Nanao and Hayate] [Closed]
((Backdated to Sunday, May 14th, around 11:15pm))
It had been a long day, and he knew he should just go to sleep, but it had also been too long since he’d visited Nanao and he didn’t like the idea of distance between them. Not with everything else that was going on in his life. So Hayate walked back down the stairs to the ground floor and slipped through the door of apartment four without knocking, closing the door quietly behind him and leaning against it as he looked around.
Their recent conversations had been a bit odd, too many things said but not explained, and he wondered if she was really as comfortable with him as she said, or if she was being nice, as he so often tried to be. The irony of their similarities in that department was not lost on him.
Still, he banished the slight uneasiness and managed a small and very introspective smile. “Good evening, Nanao.”
She was so absorbed in rereading her email and the white noise of the running fan that she hadn’t heard him come in. Her head snapped up, damp hair leaving a trail along her almost bare shoulders. The light from her laptop set her face with a bright glow, no glasses there to reflect the light. A slight, crooked smile creased her expression. “Hello… I was wondering if you’d come down…”
Her fingers tripped over the keys of the computer on her lap, closing out her email window, rising just enough to settle the system on the table in front of the couch. She wasn’t sure if she should go to him, or remain where as she was, legs curled under a light blanket. Opting to stay put, she hoped he knew well enough to join her. “I’m sorry about earlier… I didn’t mean to tease.”
In all honestly, she HAD been sitting here in a towel just a few minutes ago, checking her messages when his had popped up on the buildings journal system. Without thought, she’d answered back, just like normal. It hadn’t even occurred to her until he mentioned it in a reply. When he said he was coming down, she had dutifully gone and put on her normal nighttime wear, especially since the room wasn’t as stuffy as usual.
“No, it’s all right…” Pushing himself away from the doorframe, he stalked across the room quietly, loose hair falling in his face from the familiar messy ponytail. It had been hotter upstairs, and he hadn’t changed before coming down, so he was wearing his usual eveningwear: a pair of light drawstring pants and a tattered tank top. Leaving his sandals close by, he clambered onto the couch with her.
She smelled wonderful, and he paused for a moment to just inhale quietly before he looped one arm around her shoulders, settling into the cushions at her side. It was meant to be comfortable for both of them, but also pulled the hem of his shirt just high enough to show the bottom edge of a deep incision scar above his navel.
“It’s been a long day, and my mind just… went there. I’m the one who turned it into something risqué.” He chuckled softly, leaning his head close to hers and murmuring in a soft voice. “It’s been too hot to wear anything much to bed and I log on when I can’t sleep… so I’ve got no room to chide you.”
Nanao hummed under her breath for a moment, leaning her head back against his arm. The smile had grown wider, if a bit self conscious, as she turned her head, just enough to look straight at him. “In a way, I’m glad I could make you think that risqué. It’s still something new to me.” She uncurled her legs from under her, the blanket falling away from them as she stretched out. She’d thrown on a pair of soft knit shorts before he’d come down, her tank top just short enough to leave an inch of skin between the fabric.
She hadn’t missed his phrasing, and would ask on it in a moment, but right now, she was content to settle herself against him. It usually never took her long to learn something new, and she’d always been observant, which was a good thing around Hayate, she’d discovered. He might be honest with her, but she could tell he held back a great deal. If it was to keep her at arms length, or just to keep her from too much concern, she had no idea.
It did just make her curious, though. And that could be a bad thing, sometimes.
Either way, she had already decided not to push him. He’d talk to her in his own time, if she was patient. Patient was something she could do well. “I hope your day wasn’t too bad.”
“Oh, it was fine. Entirely too much shopping for my taste, and sitting through Mission Impossible a second time didn’t improve it at all, but… Overall, it wasn’t a bad day.” He shifted laguidly, hooking his foot under hers without thinking and propping his heel against the table edge. “It was nice to spend time with mom without dad lurking around…”
Obviously, he wasn’t the only man in the world - or even the area - who preferred the company of his mother to that of his father, but it still brought to mind a few insults, and he trailed off, considering them briefly. Definitely not worth worrying about, right now. He had enough on his mind without adding another concern.
There was no point in saying more about his lewd thoughts, so he tried to let that go, as well. Twenty-seven years spent in the close company of Greg Mortenson had been enough to ensure that he was far from innocent, but unlike “Crow”, he made a daily effort not to dwell on it. Unfortunately, though he was moderately successful at avoiding crudeness in his own behavior, it was difficult to ignore other subjects involving Crow these days.
If he could just get it out of his mind or on ‘the table’ without too much trouble, it would be a lot easier. He’d only known Nanao for two months, and he was already quite attached to her. He didn’t want to say anything that would push her away, but she was too intelligent to miss the fact that he was holding something back, and that was just as dangerous.
The knowledge that she might consider his issues minor didn’t help him to verbalize them, and he sat beside her a bit less comfortably, pondering everything. Nothing presented itself. Wonderful. He grasped lamely for something else to say. “So… How are the renovations going at work?”
The reservation in his voice didn’t bother her as much as the sudden sense that he was uncomfortable. The smile that seemed to always be present lately faltered a bit, taking on shades of her polite mask. It unnerved her, seeing him like he was. She sighed softly and put some space between them, not that she really wanted to. “I’ve ended up sore every night since we started it, but it’s going well. We’re in the middle of resetting the Archives.”
Her voice was soft, softer than usual in light of the mood shift. Work was honestly the last thing on her mind at the moment. The focus was squarely on her companion, and his obvious hesitation. She had to remember that she’d already promised to be patient. Did that count at the expense of his comfort around her?
Unsure, she pulled away even more and turned dark eyes on him, her gaze steady.
If ever there was an unspoken question directed his way, this was it. He considered brushing off the entire situation, redirecting her interest into some minor concern over teaching Hiyori to fence or Nemu’s uncomfortable attempts at helping her father, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so. He’d lied to other girls, but not this time. It would be an insult to her intellect, and she’d probably recognize it for what it was.
He took a deep breath and put a bit more effort into finding a good way to ease into the subject. “I’m sorry Nanao, I’m not trying to push you away. I’m just preoccupied recently…” This try was no better than the last, so he just pushed on, muddling through as well as he could.
“Crow keeps leaning on me during his divorce proceedings. Liza’s being a lot more brutal than I expected, and I can’t really hold it against her, since she asked so little of him in the first place, but he feels justified in everything he’s done too… It’s getting out of control and I know I’m going to end up a part of the legal side of this, even if I try to avoid the whole thing…”
Ah.
“Preoccupied. I see.”
She rose from the couch and padded quietly to the kitchen, toes curling against the tile. Her hands busied themselves without thought, grabbing two glasses and filling them with cold water she kept in the fridge. It took her a bit longer than it usually did to retrieve the drinks, but she spared a few moments to collect her random thoughts and shuffle them back in order.
Her hand draped the cool drink over his shoulder from behind the couch, waiting for him to grab it before she settled herself opposite to him, back against the far end of the couch. There was just enough room between them to stretch her legs out so they wouldn’t be cramped, but not be in his way. “I was wondering if I’d said or done something…”
She shrugged slightly and took a drink, closing her eyes for a moment. “I had no idea things were so bad between them… I know divorce isn’t a good thing, but sometimes it can be amicably settled for the sake of everyone involved.” Her eyes slid open again, looking towards him, but not at him.
“I know you’re not going to take sides… are you?”
He sank into the couch a bit, focusing on the glass in his hand. She wasn’t even looking at him now, and he felt like a fool for bringing it up in the first place. This was worse than insensitive curiosity, and the ill-ease that twisted in his stomach made the idea of drinking anything seem hideous. So, he just held on to the glass, wiping one finger along its surface to gather condensation as if he was drying tears.
“You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m sorry if I made you feel as if you had.” He reached down, rubbing her foot idly with his dry hand.
There was no good way to talk about this, but it was impossible to just let it go, now. “I’ve already taken a side. Crow and I have been… Well, we’ve been ‘best’ friends since we were five. I knew his marriage wouldn’t work out, and never really respected the whole thing. For one thing, it was an open marriage. That never works…”
Her foot twitched under his hand, a soft sound cracking through her serious expression. She sat and watched him for a long moment, then leaned as far forward as she could, her hand taking the glass from his. When the glass was sitting safely on the table, she leaned up again and covered his hand with her now damp one.
“Calm down… I don’t want you to think I’m interrogating you.”
Her fingers tightened slightly on his hand, a silent entreaty. “Most marriages end in divorce these days, but I’m sure it’s never easy if it’s someone you know. Especially when you’re going to end up in the middle of things.” She’d seen her father in the middle of nasty cases like that, usually in an irritable mood. She’d even spent time during her studies helping with cases, but she had little practical knowledge on it.
Just the thought of how little ‘practical knowledge’ her life was full of made her slowly release his hand and lean back again. This time, she DID look up at him, though.
He blinked silently for a moment, surprised. It hadn’t even dawned on him that he had lost his cool. He’d forced himself to talk and hadn’t thought much about the way he looked or sounded. Glancing at his hand, he tried to pull himself back to a more settled state. “It’s fine. I didn’t feel as though I was being interrogated.”
What was the best course of action at this point? Neither of them was enjoying the conversation, and he was being entirely too roundabout, anyway. She must be tired of hearing about Crow, and he’d barely scratched the surface.
Turning to face her, he pulled her feet into his lap and began to massage them properly, careful not to tickle. “I suppose you’re right. I’ve seen enough friends end up divorced already, and I’ve been expecting this one to do the same for six years, now.”
I just don’t want to be put on the stand, embarrassing myself and my family, again. Not that this is a big case, but I’ll know, Joyce will know, my parents will know…
Nanao didn’t really have to know. It wasn’t an issue, if he chose not to let it be. Every day, he worked to be a better man, and maybe the best thing to do was to move on and let it go. Or maybe to talk about it another day, when the topic was more timely and less tedious. He met her eyes and managed a small chuckle, shaking his head. “I worry about entirely too many things. It probably won’t be a problem.”
Her legs shifted when he touched her feet, muscles tensing unconsciously. She’d never had someone rub her feet before, so she tried not to wiggle them, even though they were almost oversensitive. Her mouth opened to protest, about to comment that she didn’t need it, when she paused, almost moaning. She felt like accusing him of trying underhanded tricks to ease into a change of subject, but she knew better. And no matter how good it felt, she wasn’t going to allow him back into his withdrawn state.
Moving carefully, she was able to close enough distance between them to drop a hand on his arm. “Even if it’s been expected, I don’t think it’d make it easier. Or more acceptable.” A smile answered his chuckle, warm and soft. “You are a worrier, but it’s usually for something that you care about… “
Her hand set up a slow rhythm along his arm, fingers barely skimming his warm skin. “I don’t want you to think you can’t come to me with things like this. Even if it’s not a problem. I don’t listen because of our ‘deal’ anymore.”
It felt good to have their interaction back to normal, and he made the unconscious decision that he’d jeopardized it more than enough for one evening. Firmly pushing everything concerning Crow from his mind, he let his hands slide up her calves, massaging them as well. There was nothing he could do at the moment, anyway, so why worry fruitlessly if he could take his mind off it all and enjoy an evening with Nanao?
“I know. That goes both ways.” He exhaled a sigh, though not the heavy sort he sometimes accidentally let go. This was more like a release of tension, and he smiled to himself afterward. “I’m sure this’ll come up again, but lets let it go for now.”
The one good thing about the present sort of heat was that it was easy on his lungs, and he was coughing far less often. …and Nanao never seemed to think it prohibitive to cuddling. “Mmm. C’mere.” Releasing his hold on her legs, he reached out to pull her closer. Her damp hair was pleasant against his face as he scattered quick kisses across her jaw, finally touching his cheek to hers and whispering in her ear.
“Thanks…”
She’d ended up pressed close to him, legs half draped over his lap, her hand still holding onto his arm. The fingers tightened for a brief moment at the movement, then relaxed back into rhythm much quicker then they normally would’ve. It seemed the subject had been avoided, but she was more than willing to let it drop. It certainly didn’t seem like he was going to allow himself a chance to pull away again.
The kisses he peppered along her jaw sent a shiver down her back, making her fingers falter and her eyes slide half closed. His voice was low, warm in her ear, bringing an answering smile to her lips. She pulled back slowly, rubbing her cheek along his until she turned her head, brushing a gentle kiss along his cheekbone. Her lips slid open slightly, her voice a soft murmur against his skin.
“For what?”
He shifted a little further, settling them both into a more comfortable arrangement. One knee bent between her back and the couch, one arm looped around her, the other hand threaded its way into the cool dampness of her hair. There was just the beginning of stubble along his jaw and he tilted his head to avoid scratching her too much as he leaned into a kiss.
As was often the case, it was cut a bit too short and he whispered against the side of her mouth. “Thank you for being so understanding.”
How many times had he been told that he was either too honest or too secretive? He wasn’t sure which way to go now, though she was taking it all very well. The fingers in her hair traced down to the back of her neck, kneading gently as he let his forehead rest against hers, quiet in the unassuming intimacy they shared.
Her eyes slid closed with a soft sigh, legs moving to slide along side of his. Her perpetual smile was back, tugging the edges of her lips up in a gentle curve. A hand slid up to trace absent patterns over his lower back, the smile hitching up a slight bit as they brushed his skin just under the hem of his tank top. “I didn’t do anything but listen.”
She wasn’t one to jump to conclusions very often, but she didn’t know how to show him that other than just listen. “Is there anything I can do to help make this a bit easier on you?”
“Just bear with me…?”
He kept his hands exactly where they were, still rubbing the back of her neck with one and loosely gripping her hip with the other. The cinnamon throat drop he’d put in his mouth before coming downstairs was long gone, but he felt well enough and it still scented his breath.
His heartbeat sped a bit faster than normal when her fingers slipped underneath his shirt. She was close to one of the three scars on his back, and though he had told her about them before, he was always somewhat apprehensive about the first time someone saw or touched them. Inhaling slowly, he willed his heart back to its usual tempo and watched her face.
Just after she heard his carefully indrawn breath, her fingers glided over an uneven patch of skin, oddly soft in texture. A small furrow settled between her brows, then hooded eyes slowly cracked open. She was obviously thinking, placing what she felt under her fingers. After a moment, her still fingers moved again, back down to rest against his waist, though still in contact with his skin.
She wanted to ask to see them, but that was her analytical side talking. The other side knew better than to say anything of the sort. No one wanted to show scars off, least of all someone as private as Hayate… She could feel his gaze on her, but it didn’t make her skin color like it sometimes did. This time, she tipped head back a bit, eyes meeting his squarely, still smiling.
“Did you want something,” she asked, voice light and warm.
I’ve been hiding far worse things than those scars. He reminded himself silently, looking directly back into her eyes without hesitation. It was obvious that she was curious, even though she tried to keep it to herself - most likely in an attempt to allow him his privacy.
There was no reason to hide them from her; especially if she wasn’t put off by the way they felt. Letting his hand slide away from her neck, he smoothed it across his own stomach, curling his fingers in the tattered hem of his shirt.
“It’s okay. If you want to see them, I don’t mind showing you.” To his surprise, he wasn’t forcing himself to offer. He honestly didn’t mind, and a smile came easily in light of that fact.
A pang of disappointment rushed through her for a moment at the loss of his touch, but she allowed her eyes to follow the movement of his hands. They widened a fraction as he gathered the bottom of his tank top in his hand. “You don’t have to… unless you want to, of course…” She knew this wasn’t exactly an easy thing for him to do, especially after feeling his back tense under her hand a few moments ago.
She almost felt bad for it. Her inquisitiveness had never been a bad thing, necessarily, but it could lead to some uncomfortable circumstances. It would wound her to know she might’ve caused him to loose some of his ease with her, but seeing him smile calmed her misgivings. “Only if you’re sure.”
It was vaguely amusing to watch her flounder with politeness, exactly as he would be doing if their positions were reversed. On the other hand, he was certain that she was curious, and he’d grown so comfortable in her company that it was easy to do this, so he nodded, pulling the shirt up a bit. “I’m sure.”
His muscle tone was good but not overdeveloped, and there were two visible scars on his abdomen. The larger of the two was nearly five inches long and extended upward from his navel, moderately straight and even, a surgical incision that had once been two gunshot wounds in close vicinity to each other. The second scar was only two inches long and off to his right side. Neither looked at all like bullet holes.
Hayate glanced down at them, then over to Nanao. “These aren’t too bad… It’s the exit wounds that look disturbing.” He didn’t lean forward at all, waiting for a response of some kind before subjecting her to anything more.
She couldn’t help herself from leaning closer, silently wishing she had her glasses on so she could see a bit better. A flash of dismay crossed her mind at the thought of someone causing such injury to him, but it was in the past and he seemed settled with it. Her hand moved closer, but hesitated for a moment less than an inch from the top of the longer scar.
This was something intensely personal, and he’d chosen to share it with her. She mentally shrugged off any remaining apprehension and allowed her fingers to lightly trace the scar as far as it ran, almost dipping the tip of her index finger into his navel. The understated muscles under his skin were firm to her touch, minutely flexing as her fingers moved. For some odd reason, the sensation made her chuckle under her breath.
She leaned back slowly, still chuckling. “I’m sorry… I was just thinking of all the young fools I’ve overheard in the library… they seem to think you have to be bulky to be attractive.”
“Fencing can be good exercise.” Subtle as it was, he was encouraged by the compliment. If her response to his abdominal scarring was to call him attractive, he would have no trouble with sharing a bit more. Cautious not to upset their balance on the couch, he twisted to face away from her and leaned outward, bracing one foot on the floor to keep from falling.
Slender as he was, his back showed better definition than his chest, though three individual starlike scars marred it, with pale damaged tissue radiating out around them. They were larger than one would generally expect from a bullet, and had healed in such a way that stitches were still visible around and through them. These were the scars that usually upset people, and the reason he’d taken to wearing a shirt when not alone, even on the hottest days. The violence of their origins was obvious, and he was not proud of them.
Off to the left side of his back, a smaller and neater pair of scars was just barely visible going around the curve of his ribcage, inscribing the clean entry and exit of a thin blade. They were scarcely visible beside the others, but unmistakable. Hayate waited quietly, not wanting to seem overly self-conscious now that he’d made peace with her seeing this.
She could only breathe out his name. The training and work he put in was obvious to her by the gentle play with each slight motion or breath. That wasn’t what drew her attention, though. Three palm-sized starbursts spoiled the warm skin before her eyes, making her frown a tiny bit. She murmured something very softly under her breath before she touched the uppermost mark, her index finger slowly tracing the outer edge before curling to the second.
Her touch tenderly explored each star before she pulled her gaze to the slighter scars along his side. She was hesitant to touch those, though. She remembered he was slightly ticklish along his sides and this wasn’t the time to accidentally find a spot again. Her hand, though staying away from the thin marks, remained in motion along his spine for a brief moment before she pulled it to rest with the other, both held loosely in her lap.
The smile she wore hadn’t faded away with her discoveries, only softened a touch. “I know showing me this can’t be easy… thank you.”
It was impossible for him to understand the soft words she whispered, so he let them go and continued waiting as her fingers moved along the edges of sensitive skin. The hesitation at the end was not obvious, but he noticed it anyway and smiled in spite of himself, remembering those last two scars. When the touch was gone, he settled back onto the couch with her, letting his top fall back into place, more or less.
“I trust you far more than most people, Nanao. I don’t mind letting you see.” He met her eyes again, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. She didn’t seem to be looking at him any differently, and he was so relieved it almost ached. “I was just a little concerned that it might be… Off-putting. They aren’t the kind of things people enjoy looking at.”
She leaned into the touch for an instant, then moved to settle next to him again. “I won’t say I knew what to expect, but I did know they were there. Regardless, though… it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t see scars when I look at you.” Looks had never been a priority to Nanao, being that her own were average. She made it a habit to look more at personality. Not that she thought Hayate was unattractive, because he wasn’t at all in her eyes. She just placed priority on other things.
The thought of Hayate trusting her turned over in her head, reminding her just how short a time she’d known him. “It means a great deal to me, knowing you trust me so much…”
I’m certainly trying to.
Actually, he’d come to trust her far more quickly than was normal for him. Her combination of sometimes-uncomfortable humor and introspective intellect had won him over, more than anything else. With a little time and more sharing, she could take Crow’s place as his closest confidante. …just, not yet. There were still a few important things he needed to know about her before he could share his deepest secrets.
And, after that, he hoped he would still have her love. If not, at least her close friendship. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against hers, and murmured into her hair. “You’re very important to me.”
Her heart skipped when she heard him, the words echoing endlessly in her head. No one had ever put it quite like Hayate did. She’d heard words of love, hypothetical emotion, but what he’d just said to her suddenly meant more than the rest. Her parents, everyone in her past had never told her she was important, and it had never mattered. It still didn’t, to be honest, but she never would’ve believed it.
“… thank you.”
Now, she could feel it, believe it. She leaned into him carefully, not too much to shift him, eyes closing in easy comfort. It was obvious, she thought, that she trusted in him, hoping he could tell. She couldn’t put her own thoughts and feelings into words, so she didn’t waste the time. For once, she was content not to try and think.
He slipped his arms around her and just held on, leaning back into the cushions and letting his breathing fall into rhythm with hers. With everything they’d said and done, he was content to just forget about the things they hadn’t.
“You’re very welcome…”
It was so comfortable, just resting with her like this. The rumpled edge of his shirt was no concern, both abdominal scars partially visible beneath where her arm had settled across him. Sharing secrets might not be easy, but living without them was far better than holding them close and keeping people at a distance.
His fingers slipped slowly down her arm until they reached her hand and could mesh with hers. He might fall asleep with her here, but he frankly didn’t care. It wouldn’t be the first time, and he doubted that it would be the last.
It had been a long day, and he knew he should just go to sleep, but it had also been too long since he’d visited Nanao and he didn’t like the idea of distance between them. Not with everything else that was going on in his life. So Hayate walked back down the stairs to the ground floor and slipped through the door of apartment four without knocking, closing the door quietly behind him and leaning against it as he looked around.
Their recent conversations had been a bit odd, too many things said but not explained, and he wondered if she was really as comfortable with him as she said, or if she was being nice, as he so often tried to be. The irony of their similarities in that department was not lost on him.
Still, he banished the slight uneasiness and managed a small and very introspective smile. “Good evening, Nanao.”
She was so absorbed in rereading her email and the white noise of the running fan that she hadn’t heard him come in. Her head snapped up, damp hair leaving a trail along her almost bare shoulders. The light from her laptop set her face with a bright glow, no glasses there to reflect the light. A slight, crooked smile creased her expression. “Hello… I was wondering if you’d come down…”
Her fingers tripped over the keys of the computer on her lap, closing out her email window, rising just enough to settle the system on the table in front of the couch. She wasn’t sure if she should go to him, or remain where as she was, legs curled under a light blanket. Opting to stay put, she hoped he knew well enough to join her. “I’m sorry about earlier… I didn’t mean to tease.”
In all honestly, she HAD been sitting here in a towel just a few minutes ago, checking her messages when his had popped up on the buildings journal system. Without thought, she’d answered back, just like normal. It hadn’t even occurred to her until he mentioned it in a reply. When he said he was coming down, she had dutifully gone and put on her normal nighttime wear, especially since the room wasn’t as stuffy as usual.
“No, it’s all right…” Pushing himself away from the doorframe, he stalked across the room quietly, loose hair falling in his face from the familiar messy ponytail. It had been hotter upstairs, and he hadn’t changed before coming down, so he was wearing his usual eveningwear: a pair of light drawstring pants and a tattered tank top. Leaving his sandals close by, he clambered onto the couch with her.
She smelled wonderful, and he paused for a moment to just inhale quietly before he looped one arm around her shoulders, settling into the cushions at her side. It was meant to be comfortable for both of them, but also pulled the hem of his shirt just high enough to show the bottom edge of a deep incision scar above his navel.
“It’s been a long day, and my mind just… went there. I’m the one who turned it into something risqué.” He chuckled softly, leaning his head close to hers and murmuring in a soft voice. “It’s been too hot to wear anything much to bed and I log on when I can’t sleep… so I’ve got no room to chide you.”
Nanao hummed under her breath for a moment, leaning her head back against his arm. The smile had grown wider, if a bit self conscious, as she turned her head, just enough to look straight at him. “In a way, I’m glad I could make you think that risqué. It’s still something new to me.” She uncurled her legs from under her, the blanket falling away from them as she stretched out. She’d thrown on a pair of soft knit shorts before he’d come down, her tank top just short enough to leave an inch of skin between the fabric.
She hadn’t missed his phrasing, and would ask on it in a moment, but right now, she was content to settle herself against him. It usually never took her long to learn something new, and she’d always been observant, which was a good thing around Hayate, she’d discovered. He might be honest with her, but she could tell he held back a great deal. If it was to keep her at arms length, or just to keep her from too much concern, she had no idea.
It did just make her curious, though. And that could be a bad thing, sometimes.
Either way, she had already decided not to push him. He’d talk to her in his own time, if she was patient. Patient was something she could do well. “I hope your day wasn’t too bad.”
“Oh, it was fine. Entirely too much shopping for my taste, and sitting through Mission Impossible a second time didn’t improve it at all, but… Overall, it wasn’t a bad day.” He shifted laguidly, hooking his foot under hers without thinking and propping his heel against the table edge. “It was nice to spend time with mom without dad lurking around…”
Obviously, he wasn’t the only man in the world - or even the area - who preferred the company of his mother to that of his father, but it still brought to mind a few insults, and he trailed off, considering them briefly. Definitely not worth worrying about, right now. He had enough on his mind without adding another concern.
There was no point in saying more about his lewd thoughts, so he tried to let that go, as well. Twenty-seven years spent in the close company of Greg Mortenson had been enough to ensure that he was far from innocent, but unlike “Crow”, he made a daily effort not to dwell on it. Unfortunately, though he was moderately successful at avoiding crudeness in his own behavior, it was difficult to ignore other subjects involving Crow these days.
If he could just get it out of his mind or on ‘the table’ without too much trouble, it would be a lot easier. He’d only known Nanao for two months, and he was already quite attached to her. He didn’t want to say anything that would push her away, but she was too intelligent to miss the fact that he was holding something back, and that was just as dangerous.
The knowledge that she might consider his issues minor didn’t help him to verbalize them, and he sat beside her a bit less comfortably, pondering everything. Nothing presented itself. Wonderful. He grasped lamely for something else to say. “So… How are the renovations going at work?”
The reservation in his voice didn’t bother her as much as the sudden sense that he was uncomfortable. The smile that seemed to always be present lately faltered a bit, taking on shades of her polite mask. It unnerved her, seeing him like he was. She sighed softly and put some space between them, not that she really wanted to. “I’ve ended up sore every night since we started it, but it’s going well. We’re in the middle of resetting the Archives.”
Her voice was soft, softer than usual in light of the mood shift. Work was honestly the last thing on her mind at the moment. The focus was squarely on her companion, and his obvious hesitation. She had to remember that she’d already promised to be patient. Did that count at the expense of his comfort around her?
Unsure, she pulled away even more and turned dark eyes on him, her gaze steady.
If ever there was an unspoken question directed his way, this was it. He considered brushing off the entire situation, redirecting her interest into some minor concern over teaching Hiyori to fence or Nemu’s uncomfortable attempts at helping her father, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so. He’d lied to other girls, but not this time. It would be an insult to her intellect, and she’d probably recognize it for what it was.
He took a deep breath and put a bit more effort into finding a good way to ease into the subject. “I’m sorry Nanao, I’m not trying to push you away. I’m just preoccupied recently…” This try was no better than the last, so he just pushed on, muddling through as well as he could.
“Crow keeps leaning on me during his divorce proceedings. Liza’s being a lot more brutal than I expected, and I can’t really hold it against her, since she asked so little of him in the first place, but he feels justified in everything he’s done too… It’s getting out of control and I know I’m going to end up a part of the legal side of this, even if I try to avoid the whole thing…”
Ah.
“Preoccupied. I see.”
She rose from the couch and padded quietly to the kitchen, toes curling against the tile. Her hands busied themselves without thought, grabbing two glasses and filling them with cold water she kept in the fridge. It took her a bit longer than it usually did to retrieve the drinks, but she spared a few moments to collect her random thoughts and shuffle them back in order.
Her hand draped the cool drink over his shoulder from behind the couch, waiting for him to grab it before she settled herself opposite to him, back against the far end of the couch. There was just enough room between them to stretch her legs out so they wouldn’t be cramped, but not be in his way. “I was wondering if I’d said or done something…”
She shrugged slightly and took a drink, closing her eyes for a moment. “I had no idea things were so bad between them… I know divorce isn’t a good thing, but sometimes it can be amicably settled for the sake of everyone involved.” Her eyes slid open again, looking towards him, but not at him.
“I know you’re not going to take sides… are you?”
He sank into the couch a bit, focusing on the glass in his hand. She wasn’t even looking at him now, and he felt like a fool for bringing it up in the first place. This was worse than insensitive curiosity, and the ill-ease that twisted in his stomach made the idea of drinking anything seem hideous. So, he just held on to the glass, wiping one finger along its surface to gather condensation as if he was drying tears.
“You haven’t done anything wrong. I’m sorry if I made you feel as if you had.” He reached down, rubbing her foot idly with his dry hand.
There was no good way to talk about this, but it was impossible to just let it go, now. “I’ve already taken a side. Crow and I have been… Well, we’ve been ‘best’ friends since we were five. I knew his marriage wouldn’t work out, and never really respected the whole thing. For one thing, it was an open marriage. That never works…”
Her foot twitched under his hand, a soft sound cracking through her serious expression. She sat and watched him for a long moment, then leaned as far forward as she could, her hand taking the glass from his. When the glass was sitting safely on the table, she leaned up again and covered his hand with her now damp one.
“Calm down… I don’t want you to think I’m interrogating you.”
Her fingers tightened slightly on his hand, a silent entreaty. “Most marriages end in divorce these days, but I’m sure it’s never easy if it’s someone you know. Especially when you’re going to end up in the middle of things.” She’d seen her father in the middle of nasty cases like that, usually in an irritable mood. She’d even spent time during her studies helping with cases, but she had little practical knowledge on it.
Just the thought of how little ‘practical knowledge’ her life was full of made her slowly release his hand and lean back again. This time, she DID look up at him, though.
He blinked silently for a moment, surprised. It hadn’t even dawned on him that he had lost his cool. He’d forced himself to talk and hadn’t thought much about the way he looked or sounded. Glancing at his hand, he tried to pull himself back to a more settled state. “It’s fine. I didn’t feel as though I was being interrogated.”
What was the best course of action at this point? Neither of them was enjoying the conversation, and he was being entirely too roundabout, anyway. She must be tired of hearing about Crow, and he’d barely scratched the surface.
Turning to face her, he pulled her feet into his lap and began to massage them properly, careful not to tickle. “I suppose you’re right. I’ve seen enough friends end up divorced already, and I’ve been expecting this one to do the same for six years, now.”
I just don’t want to be put on the stand, embarrassing myself and my family, again. Not that this is a big case, but I’ll know, Joyce will know, my parents will know…
Nanao didn’t really have to know. It wasn’t an issue, if he chose not to let it be. Every day, he worked to be a better man, and maybe the best thing to do was to move on and let it go. Or maybe to talk about it another day, when the topic was more timely and less tedious. He met her eyes and managed a small chuckle, shaking his head. “I worry about entirely too many things. It probably won’t be a problem.”
Her legs shifted when he touched her feet, muscles tensing unconsciously. She’d never had someone rub her feet before, so she tried not to wiggle them, even though they were almost oversensitive. Her mouth opened to protest, about to comment that she didn’t need it, when she paused, almost moaning. She felt like accusing him of trying underhanded tricks to ease into a change of subject, but she knew better. And no matter how good it felt, she wasn’t going to allow him back into his withdrawn state.
Moving carefully, she was able to close enough distance between them to drop a hand on his arm. “Even if it’s been expected, I don’t think it’d make it easier. Or more acceptable.” A smile answered his chuckle, warm and soft. “You are a worrier, but it’s usually for something that you care about… “
Her hand set up a slow rhythm along his arm, fingers barely skimming his warm skin. “I don’t want you to think you can’t come to me with things like this. Even if it’s not a problem. I don’t listen because of our ‘deal’ anymore.”
It felt good to have their interaction back to normal, and he made the unconscious decision that he’d jeopardized it more than enough for one evening. Firmly pushing everything concerning Crow from his mind, he let his hands slide up her calves, massaging them as well. There was nothing he could do at the moment, anyway, so why worry fruitlessly if he could take his mind off it all and enjoy an evening with Nanao?
“I know. That goes both ways.” He exhaled a sigh, though not the heavy sort he sometimes accidentally let go. This was more like a release of tension, and he smiled to himself afterward. “I’m sure this’ll come up again, but lets let it go for now.”
The one good thing about the present sort of heat was that it was easy on his lungs, and he was coughing far less often. …and Nanao never seemed to think it prohibitive to cuddling. “Mmm. C’mere.” Releasing his hold on her legs, he reached out to pull her closer. Her damp hair was pleasant against his face as he scattered quick kisses across her jaw, finally touching his cheek to hers and whispering in her ear.
“Thanks…”
She’d ended up pressed close to him, legs half draped over his lap, her hand still holding onto his arm. The fingers tightened for a brief moment at the movement, then relaxed back into rhythm much quicker then they normally would’ve. It seemed the subject had been avoided, but she was more than willing to let it drop. It certainly didn’t seem like he was going to allow himself a chance to pull away again.
The kisses he peppered along her jaw sent a shiver down her back, making her fingers falter and her eyes slide half closed. His voice was low, warm in her ear, bringing an answering smile to her lips. She pulled back slowly, rubbing her cheek along his until she turned her head, brushing a gentle kiss along his cheekbone. Her lips slid open slightly, her voice a soft murmur against his skin.
“For what?”
He shifted a little further, settling them both into a more comfortable arrangement. One knee bent between her back and the couch, one arm looped around her, the other hand threaded its way into the cool dampness of her hair. There was just the beginning of stubble along his jaw and he tilted his head to avoid scratching her too much as he leaned into a kiss.
As was often the case, it was cut a bit too short and he whispered against the side of her mouth. “Thank you for being so understanding.”
How many times had he been told that he was either too honest or too secretive? He wasn’t sure which way to go now, though she was taking it all very well. The fingers in her hair traced down to the back of her neck, kneading gently as he let his forehead rest against hers, quiet in the unassuming intimacy they shared.
Her eyes slid closed with a soft sigh, legs moving to slide along side of his. Her perpetual smile was back, tugging the edges of her lips up in a gentle curve. A hand slid up to trace absent patterns over his lower back, the smile hitching up a slight bit as they brushed his skin just under the hem of his tank top. “I didn’t do anything but listen.”
She wasn’t one to jump to conclusions very often, but she didn’t know how to show him that other than just listen. “Is there anything I can do to help make this a bit easier on you?”
“Just bear with me…?”
He kept his hands exactly where they were, still rubbing the back of her neck with one and loosely gripping her hip with the other. The cinnamon throat drop he’d put in his mouth before coming downstairs was long gone, but he felt well enough and it still scented his breath.
His heartbeat sped a bit faster than normal when her fingers slipped underneath his shirt. She was close to one of the three scars on his back, and though he had told her about them before, he was always somewhat apprehensive about the first time someone saw or touched them. Inhaling slowly, he willed his heart back to its usual tempo and watched her face.
Just after she heard his carefully indrawn breath, her fingers glided over an uneven patch of skin, oddly soft in texture. A small furrow settled between her brows, then hooded eyes slowly cracked open. She was obviously thinking, placing what she felt under her fingers. After a moment, her still fingers moved again, back down to rest against his waist, though still in contact with his skin.
She wanted to ask to see them, but that was her analytical side talking. The other side knew better than to say anything of the sort. No one wanted to show scars off, least of all someone as private as Hayate… She could feel his gaze on her, but it didn’t make her skin color like it sometimes did. This time, she tipped head back a bit, eyes meeting his squarely, still smiling.
“Did you want something,” she asked, voice light and warm.
I’ve been hiding far worse things than those scars. He reminded himself silently, looking directly back into her eyes without hesitation. It was obvious that she was curious, even though she tried to keep it to herself - most likely in an attempt to allow him his privacy.
There was no reason to hide them from her; especially if she wasn’t put off by the way they felt. Letting his hand slide away from her neck, he smoothed it across his own stomach, curling his fingers in the tattered hem of his shirt.
“It’s okay. If you want to see them, I don’t mind showing you.” To his surprise, he wasn’t forcing himself to offer. He honestly didn’t mind, and a smile came easily in light of that fact.
A pang of disappointment rushed through her for a moment at the loss of his touch, but she allowed her eyes to follow the movement of his hands. They widened a fraction as he gathered the bottom of his tank top in his hand. “You don’t have to… unless you want to, of course…” She knew this wasn’t exactly an easy thing for him to do, especially after feeling his back tense under her hand a few moments ago.
She almost felt bad for it. Her inquisitiveness had never been a bad thing, necessarily, but it could lead to some uncomfortable circumstances. It would wound her to know she might’ve caused him to loose some of his ease with her, but seeing him smile calmed her misgivings. “Only if you’re sure.”
It was vaguely amusing to watch her flounder with politeness, exactly as he would be doing if their positions were reversed. On the other hand, he was certain that she was curious, and he’d grown so comfortable in her company that it was easy to do this, so he nodded, pulling the shirt up a bit. “I’m sure.”
His muscle tone was good but not overdeveloped, and there were two visible scars on his abdomen. The larger of the two was nearly five inches long and extended upward from his navel, moderately straight and even, a surgical incision that had once been two gunshot wounds in close vicinity to each other. The second scar was only two inches long and off to his right side. Neither looked at all like bullet holes.
Hayate glanced down at them, then over to Nanao. “These aren’t too bad… It’s the exit wounds that look disturbing.” He didn’t lean forward at all, waiting for a response of some kind before subjecting her to anything more.
She couldn’t help herself from leaning closer, silently wishing she had her glasses on so she could see a bit better. A flash of dismay crossed her mind at the thought of someone causing such injury to him, but it was in the past and he seemed settled with it. Her hand moved closer, but hesitated for a moment less than an inch from the top of the longer scar.
This was something intensely personal, and he’d chosen to share it with her. She mentally shrugged off any remaining apprehension and allowed her fingers to lightly trace the scar as far as it ran, almost dipping the tip of her index finger into his navel. The understated muscles under his skin were firm to her touch, minutely flexing as her fingers moved. For some odd reason, the sensation made her chuckle under her breath.
She leaned back slowly, still chuckling. “I’m sorry… I was just thinking of all the young fools I’ve overheard in the library… they seem to think you have to be bulky to be attractive.”
“Fencing can be good exercise.” Subtle as it was, he was encouraged by the compliment. If her response to his abdominal scarring was to call him attractive, he would have no trouble with sharing a bit more. Cautious not to upset their balance on the couch, he twisted to face away from her and leaned outward, bracing one foot on the floor to keep from falling.
Slender as he was, his back showed better definition than his chest, though three individual starlike scars marred it, with pale damaged tissue radiating out around them. They were larger than one would generally expect from a bullet, and had healed in such a way that stitches were still visible around and through them. These were the scars that usually upset people, and the reason he’d taken to wearing a shirt when not alone, even on the hottest days. The violence of their origins was obvious, and he was not proud of them.
Off to the left side of his back, a smaller and neater pair of scars was just barely visible going around the curve of his ribcage, inscribing the clean entry and exit of a thin blade. They were scarcely visible beside the others, but unmistakable. Hayate waited quietly, not wanting to seem overly self-conscious now that he’d made peace with her seeing this.
She could only breathe out his name. The training and work he put in was obvious to her by the gentle play with each slight motion or breath. That wasn’t what drew her attention, though. Three palm-sized starbursts spoiled the warm skin before her eyes, making her frown a tiny bit. She murmured something very softly under her breath before she touched the uppermost mark, her index finger slowly tracing the outer edge before curling to the second.
Her touch tenderly explored each star before she pulled her gaze to the slighter scars along his side. She was hesitant to touch those, though. She remembered he was slightly ticklish along his sides and this wasn’t the time to accidentally find a spot again. Her hand, though staying away from the thin marks, remained in motion along his spine for a brief moment before she pulled it to rest with the other, both held loosely in her lap.
The smile she wore hadn’t faded away with her discoveries, only softened a touch. “I know showing me this can’t be easy… thank you.”
It was impossible for him to understand the soft words she whispered, so he let them go and continued waiting as her fingers moved along the edges of sensitive skin. The hesitation at the end was not obvious, but he noticed it anyway and smiled in spite of himself, remembering those last two scars. When the touch was gone, he settled back onto the couch with her, letting his top fall back into place, more or less.
“I trust you far more than most people, Nanao. I don’t mind letting you see.” He met her eyes again, lifting a hand to caress her cheek. She didn’t seem to be looking at him any differently, and he was so relieved it almost ached. “I was just a little concerned that it might be… Off-putting. They aren’t the kind of things people enjoy looking at.”
She leaned into the touch for an instant, then moved to settle next to him again. “I won’t say I knew what to expect, but I did know they were there. Regardless, though… it doesn’t matter to me. I don’t see scars when I look at you.” Looks had never been a priority to Nanao, being that her own were average. She made it a habit to look more at personality. Not that she thought Hayate was unattractive, because he wasn’t at all in her eyes. She just placed priority on other things.
The thought of Hayate trusting her turned over in her head, reminding her just how short a time she’d known him. “It means a great deal to me, knowing you trust me so much…”
I’m certainly trying to.
Actually, he’d come to trust her far more quickly than was normal for him. Her combination of sometimes-uncomfortable humor and introspective intellect had won him over, more than anything else. With a little time and more sharing, she could take Crow’s place as his closest confidante. …just, not yet. There were still a few important things he needed to know about her before he could share his deepest secrets.
And, after that, he hoped he would still have her love. If not, at least her close friendship. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against hers, and murmured into her hair. “You’re very important to me.”
Her heart skipped when she heard him, the words echoing endlessly in her head. No one had ever put it quite like Hayate did. She’d heard words of love, hypothetical emotion, but what he’d just said to her suddenly meant more than the rest. Her parents, everyone in her past had never told her she was important, and it had never mattered. It still didn’t, to be honest, but she never would’ve believed it.
“… thank you.”
Now, she could feel it, believe it. She leaned into him carefully, not too much to shift him, eyes closing in easy comfort. It was obvious, she thought, that she trusted in him, hoping he could tell. She couldn’t put her own thoughts and feelings into words, so she didn’t waste the time. For once, she was content not to try and think.
He slipped his arms around her and just held on, leaning back into the cushions and letting his breathing fall into rhythm with hers. With everything they’d said and done, he was content to just forget about the things they hadn’t.
“You’re very welcome…”
It was so comfortable, just resting with her like this. The rumpled edge of his shirt was no concern, both abdominal scars partially visible beneath where her arm had settled across him. Sharing secrets might not be easy, but living without them was far better than holding them close and keeping people at a distance.
His fingers slipped slowly down her arm until they reached her hand and could mesh with hers. He might fall asleep with her here, but he frankly didn’t care. It wouldn’t be the first time, and he doubted that it would be the last.