[Email Log] [The Burden of Truth, Part II] [Nanao and Hayate] [Closed]

[lunar_gale]

((Backdated to Friday, May 26th. Part II of II.))



Oh.

Oh…

Before she could stop herself, her hand shot out and curled around the one he was plucking at the seam of his pants with. “If you fidget, I will. It’s contagious, you know.” Her fingers tightened for a moment, then she let go and stood up, walking to the open window. The day was like any other, hot and muggy, a listless breeze trying to push the repressive warmth away. Even though there was little to see, she stood, eyes looking out but not really seeing anything.

She was silent for several minutes, lost in thought over everything he’d told her. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. “I don’t really know what to say. I know you two are close, and that’s fine. I wouldn’t presume to tell you who to spend your time with. I don’t have that right.”

The wind swirled in and tugged at her hair, pulling more hair free from her loose ponytail. She ignored the urge to just reach up and pull it down, using her energy to lean against the wall that framed the window. “I hope you didn’t think I’d have a problem with this. But… you know I don’t agree with the idea of an ‘open relationship’. It might work for some, but I won’t try it. Perhaps that makes me selfish, but that’s just how I am.”

She hoped what she’d just said didn’t sound like an ultimatum, but she’d already said it, and wouldn’t take her words back.

Hayate stared blindly at his hand, taken so off his guard by her acceptance that he was mute. No one had ever taken his confession so well before, and the fight or flight adrenaline surge that had inundated his bloodstream left him feeling shaky and slightly ill as she stood looking out the window. She hoped he hadn’t thought she’d have a problem with this? Well, of course he had.

It should be like the removal of a crushing burden, but he was too shocked to feel any relief. There was more confusion than anything else, and he coughed at an odd feeling in his chest that was more likely caused by his present chemistry than anything else. It took a little while to stop once he’d started, and he stared into his cup after taking a sip, slowly recognizing the wide-eyed face reflected back as himself.

Okay…

“No… no, I don’t like open relationships, either. It isn’t selfish.” He pushed himself forward, setting the mug down again and finally daring to look directly at her where she stood. Crow could be his friend without being anything else. That was how they’d been since late March, anyway, when he’d said that he wanted space and Crow had found a newer, younger man to date, and Liza had decided that it was all too much.

It was difficult to comprehend. He mentally probed at everything Nanao had said, looking for some sign of a polite front covering over other, deeper feelings, but he found nothing. “…this isn’t a problem?”

Nanao turned and leaned back against the wall, staring at him with hooded eyes. A shake of her head set more hair free, so she finally reached up and yanked the lose elastic out, setting the mass to tumble around her shoulders. She reached up and pushed the mess away from her face and offered him a half smile. “Not unless you make it that way. I mean… you didn’t seem to have a problem with me telling you I’ve slept with someone that lives in this building, and after what happened to me last week, I’m not too worried
about such things.”

Slim arms crossed over her chest as she tilted her head back against the wall. “I might be young still, but I’ve seen my fair share of life. Things might surprise me sometimes, but I don’t think I’m so closed minded. I’d like to think I’m not, but I’m sure someone would disagree with me.” As she spoke, her eyes never left his face, and the gentle smile never left her lips.

“No, you always seem open minded to me…” He met her eyes, still feeling a bit off, thanks to the difference between expectations and reality. It was a good difference, of course, but it was taking effort to accept. He shook his head at his own reaction, again feeling the irrational impulse to laugh.

Some exercises with a foil or epee would be very helpful, just to get rid of the excess energy. He found the open seam at the side of his pants again and wiggled a finger through, not particularly concerned with the soft sound of ripping thread.

Thinking back, he remembered reacting rather poorly to her admission of her sexual encounter with the unnamed man in the building. It was amazing that she was still there, looking at him so sympathetically. The temptation to cross the room and lean against her flared up but was left unheeded as he slumped back again, staring at her as if to will her to come closer. He would feel too strange being the one to bridge the distance after telling her about his relationship with Crow.

“Nanao…?” Of course, just sitting there and doing nothing was unlikely to get him anywhere. “Would I be out of line to ask you to come sit beside me?”

Nanao pushed away from the wall with a soft sound, padding back to the couch. She flopped gracelessly next to Hayate, careful not to hit him on her way down. “I just didn’t know if you wanted me here.” At times, the illusion of solitude, no matter how small it was, helped a person deal with issues. She understood this well, since she’d been trying to do some thinking of her own.

Her hand wanted to pull his away from the growing tear he was only making worse, but she didn’t move much. “Did you honestly think I’d be upset over this? The past is the past. I try not to dwell on it.” She kept her head turned just enough to keep him in the side of her vision, still not wanting to intrude if he had more he wanted to talk about.

“You’re the third person I’ve ever told about this who didn’t get upset.” Like so many other details, he didn’t point out the fact that the other two had been attracted to the idea of it, not the reality. Crow had never needed to be told, since he’d been the instigator of their first kiss.

Hayate drew his bottom lip into his mouth, scraping it between his teeth, and tried to focus. As time slipped by, his nerves were settling back toward the vicinity of normal. By the time his mind had regrouped, he’d reached the point that he could slide all but his thumb into the gap in the seam, and it dawned on him that it would require a lot of mending to keep his pants wearable. He withdrew his fingers and idly folded the fabric over into the position it should normally occupy, watching as it flipped back open when he moved his hand away.

After all the traits that he and Nanao had in common, he was slow in translation of the differences that this discussion had uncovered. Her careful attempts to allow him space were somewhat unsettling to his innately tactile nature. He’d seldom given much thought to the idea of someone wanting physical space at a time like this, even if he’d started the visit by sitting on the floor.

He had to keep reminding himself that this wasn’t an attempt to avoid looking at him, and his own emotional insecurity grated on his nerves. It didn’t take much effort to shift around to a position more like what he’d grown accustomed to, his back in the corner of the armrest and one leg bent, his knee visible through the ruined seam. Resting his elbows on his knees brought him close enough to lean into her direct line of sight.

“I don’t mind it when you look at me, you know.” Usually, he would have a hand on hers, or in her hair, or at least a foot hooked under her ankle. He reached out to tuck an errant lock of hair behind her ear, hesitantly allowing himself to drag his fingertips along the side of her face before lowering his hand.

“I do want you here. I was just worried that you wouldn’t want to be near me anymore.”

The touch brought a soft hum to her lips, eyes closing momentarily as she tipped her face into the contact. Since the assault, she’d shied away from most attempts to touch her, but not from him. Never from Hayate. His gentle touches had helped calm her when she thought her world was crumbling. To her, he represented strength and warmth and other things she just couldn’t name yet.

Shifting her legs to the side so she could face him wasn’t difficult at all, but the first thing that caught her attention was, of all things, the torn seam and the skin of his knee showing through. The shy, self-conscious smile she’d been wearing changed to a quiet laugh as she shook her head a little. “You were really nervous about this, weren’t you,” she murmured, her gaze finally shifting to his face.

The smile softened as she looked at him. Her knees slid under her as she gradually leaned closer, not stopping until she’d brushed a kiss over his cheek, whispering, “I want to be near you.” Slowly, she pulled a tiny bit back, her lips still curled up at the corners.

He touched his cheek to hers, sitting up a little straighter, and slid his hand along her arm. The relief was finally setting in, accessible enough to dispel the last of his jitters. “Thanks…”

He’d lost nearly ten pounds that he really couldn’t spare over the last two weeks, with everything that had happened and all the worrying he’d been subjecting himself to. With that in mind, he didn’t pull her quite as close as had become habit. He also left her comment about his nerves unanswered, since it seemed more of a rhetorical question than anything else.

There was still a dull ache in his chest, but he didn’t cough. He just wanted to hold on to her and let himself ease into the understanding that everything was still okay; she wasn’t trying to make distance between them. For once, his secrets hadn’t been too big to accept.

He couldn’t remember ever feeling so much love and appreciation for one person, but he didn’t say anything about it.

There was still something not quite right. Nanao could feel it in the way he held her, but she didn’t know if she should say anything. Was it was something she’d done, or some lingering effect of the assault that left her hypersensitive to things? She opened her mouth to say something but stopped, somehow unable to make the words come out. Instead, she sighed and closed her eyes.

Her body didn’t quite fit against his like it had before; holding back more than she normally did. It wasn’t on conscious choice, but an effort to keep her own frailness from being discovered. “So you never meant for this to happen… us, I mean.” That had been happening a lot lately, words being said before she finished thinking them over.

The way she held back caught his attention, in spite of his own hesitation, and a small tremor of guilt tiptoed down his spine as he thought about everything that had happened recently. She’d lost weight, too, though she was upfront about it, and he silently chided himself for the attempt to hide even something so small from her, right after she’d reacted so well to his ‘darkest’ secret.

He chuckled in spite of himself, pulling her close enough to feel the difference in her size and no doubt reveal his own as well. “My dear Nanao… you and I need to eat more.” Of course, that wasn’t the base of his problem, nor hers, but it seemed a safe enough empty comment to make in an attempt to acknowledge the changes.

Crow had often accused him of being ‘woman sized’, and he hated the connotations in the accusation. On a subconscious level, it was nice that he was still a bit larger than she was, even though he worried about her. Without any real trouble, he maneuvered them into something more like their familiar placement on the couch and in each other’s arms, though he was still cautious with her wrists.

“I was looking for a friend.” He offered an extremely understated shrug, then leaned his head against the back of couch, close to hers. “This was a nice surprise, even if I worry about it too much.”

Nanao snorted softly at his statement, but allowed him to pull her closer without objection. “I just don’t remember to eat all the time…“ She settled against him with a soft exhalation, eyes sliding closed in soundless appreciation as her arms tucked loosely around his waist. “You know… I wasn’t looking for anything. I’d just gotten back from dealing with my family issues and everything that happened with Gaara before I left. I
didn’t feel like I deserved anything then.”

After a long moment of silence, she ducked her head slightly, murmuring a single word. Her gaze dropped down to an indistinguishable spot between them. “I’d like to think I can be a friend, too.”

His eyebrow quirked up at the word he didn’t quite catch, and though his curiosity was piqued, he didn’t have the energy to inquire about it like he usually would. Instead, he quietly pondered her previous comment, allowing one of his mental meanderings to escape in a very soft voice as he did so. “…who deserves anything, really… good or bad? Emotions are so complicated.”

He exhaled a sigh, though it turned into a stifled cough at the end. The ache had yet to go away, and the slight nausea from unused adrenaline was stubbornly hanging on as well. Dinner had seemed a poor idea before he came to talk to Nanao, and he was no hungrier now than he was then, but he couldn’t afford to drop below one hundred twenty pounds, and he was in danger of doing so.

Beyond all that, his heart was still beating a bit faster than it should, which made it seem erratic. Breathing deeply helped to steady it, and to make him feel less lightheaded, but made him cough more. He glared at the ceiling for a moment after another spasm passed and shifted back into their embrace to mumble an apology.

“Of course you can be a friend, in fact, I consider you one of my closest friends right now. Just…” With another small adjustment to the way they were settled, he managed to look into her eyes, idly brushing his fingers through her hair at the same time. “…more.”

The moment his eyes caught hers, she felt her cheeks heating a fraction, but she let it pass unheeded, knowing that it was minor enough he probably wouldn’t notice. Her hand rose to touch his chest, fingers twitching against his shirt. She murmured a soft reassurance, making sure he was alright before her lips tugged up at the corners, forming that slight smile she found herself showing only to him.

“I appreciate you telling me this. I know it wasn’t easy for you…” A soft sigh left her lips as her eyes slid half closed, leaning into his touch. “You’re too good at that,” she mumbled, the smile growing. It had always been a weak point of hers; her hair. The hand still pressed to his chest glided up to sweep slim fingers along his jaw and down the side of his neck. They came to rest just under the collar of his shirt, against the swell of his collarbone, her index finger tracing a tiny circle against skin.

This was the most her mind had been focused in a week or more, her wits too scattered to allow her to think properly before now. “Thank you.”

It was definitely the first time anyone had thanked him for telling them that he was bisexual. The smile that answered hers was only slightly rueful, comfortable as he was with the motion of her fingertip against his collar, of his own hands in her hair. The beating of his heart had slowed almost to its normal rate again, and just the small edge of nausea remained, though it was easy enough to ignore as long as he didn’t think about food.

“I don’t want to keep secrets from you.”

One hand slowed and traced along the side of her face again, fingers curling lightly to caress her cheek as his thumb followed the line of her bottom lip. His eyes remained focused on hers, watching for any subtle reaction. The bruises on her jaw were faded, but he knew she was still having trouble sleeping. Emotional wounds take longer to heal, and she’d been very careful with his. He didn’t want to blunder around hers.

He moved closer slowly, giving her plenty of time to avoid him before touching his lips to hers.

The initial sensation of fear trailing down her spine caused her to stiffen against Hayate, the pressure of his mouth very light, soft even. She couldn’t stop her fingers from moving, carefully curling against his collar. For a split second, her thoughts were of other kisses, past incidents, how sore she’d felt, those vague dreams she couldn’t place a finger on when she regained consciousness. There was that moment of heart-pounding fear,
causing her to want to pull away, but her reason fought to win over instinct.

This was Hayate, the touch and brief taste as his lips slid just a little more firmly over hers, nothing too presumptuous. In his own way, perhaps he was asking for her permission, if this was okay now, even after everything that had happened to her, between them, and her usually collected intellect just seemed to melt away against him.

Her free hand moved, fingers curling around his arm, holding him there, quietly asking him not to go. Though her lips didn’t move, she was aware of the careful touch of a gentle mouth, liking the experience, how safe and calm Hayate could always make her feel even under the most difficult circumstances. Tentatively, Nanao returned the kiss, slowly opening herself to his ministrations, trusting him, showing that part of herself she’d oh-so-carefully started guarding with an inner strength she’d just begun to rebuild.

He’d never really had to work for a kiss before, and her initial reaction had been a warning that this should be kept short and chaste, but then he felt her hand on his arm, holding him there. That was enough to spur him on, to keep his lips gently encouraging hers to accept what he was doing.

For once, his thoughts were nowhere but there, on the couch with Nanao in his arms, and when she began to respond, he angled his head a little more, deepening the kiss. It was still slow, careful, but the innocence was gone. Their bodies were pressed close together, though he did nothing to draw attention to the fact, and his fingers kept moving against her scalp even as his lips and tongue moved against her mouth.

She didn’t want to be afraid. She wanted to be here, wanted to be with him like this. No matter the memory that flashed behind her eyes. Time had stopped around them, but Nanao paid no attention to it. The touch of his tongue against her mouth was electric, dragging a hushed moan from her throat as she parted her lips willingly.

The fear grew then, sending a shiver down her spine, but she couldn’t spare a thought for it. Not now. The stifling heat of the room was a minor, forgettable distraction compared to the heat of his skin against her restless fingers. Her hand slid up his arm only to curl around his shoulder, as if to pull him even closer.

He was hesitant to take advantage of her open mouth, hyperaware of the way she shook in his arms, and even the pull of her fingers on his shoulder wasn’t enough to convince him that this was something she really wanted from him. Almost as slowly and carefully as he’d begun, he drew back, watching her face and waiting for her eyes to open.

His fingers were still in her hair, languidly combing it out, and his other hand slipped down the side of her neck, following no particular trail. It settled behind her shoulders, a bit too warm, perhaps, but gentle as always.

Nanao pulled back slowly, chin already tipping down. Her eyes never opened to meet his gaze, barely cracking when he was out of her line of sight, finding her hand still clenching his collar as she inhaled a measured breath. With deliberate motions, her fingers released him, then dropped to rest limp against her own leg.

The sensation down her back this time wasn’t fear, but something else entirely; something chilling. Goosebumps pricked along her skin, but she barely acknowledged the tingle. She was too busy trying to reorganize her mind back to its normal order, back to reality. With an understated cough, she cleared her throat and muttered, “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that… it was presumptuous of me to assume.”

No sooner than the words were out of her mouth, she was carefully putting distance between them.

That set his nerves off again. He’d been trying to avoid hurting her and had done exactly the opposite of what he’d intended, never even seeing the danger before he’d blundered into an unexpected wound. It was confusing, painfully reminiscent of past relationships with women, and nothing like any of his experiences with Crow, who was always absurdly open.

He took a deep breath, faltering as the ache in his lungs flared up, and tried to push that last thought away as he shook his head. “No… That was my fault, I wasn’t thinking…”

His grip on her immediately released when she began to pull away, and he wrapped one arm around his own torso, coughing into his other hand helplessly for a few minutes. His mind registered the color red as an amorphous descriptive before he realized that there was blood on his hand, and he closed his fingers around it immediately, moving very quickly from the couch to the kitchen sink to wash it away.

Again, it was nothing new. He often coughed up blood when he was under stress, but he didn’t like others to see it, and this certainly wasn’t the time.

Her head snapped up at the coughing spell, a hesitant hand just reaching to help when he bolted from the couch. Hooded eyes followed his movement to the kitchen, her feet following closely behind. She really couldn’t help it, her concern overruling any and all other issues she was facing at the moment.

She stopped behind him, uncertainty evident. She laid a hand against his back, the briefest of touches, before she dropped it back to her side. “I won’t ask if you’re alright… what can I do to help?”

His first impulse was to say the same thing he would to almost anyone else, that he was ‘fine’, but he didn’t. He was somewhat embarrassed to be seen like this and still rather confused by the entire situation, but he was determined to be honest. So, he shrugged his shoulders, staring at his hand for a few seconds in spite of the fact that it was clean, and turned quietly toward her.

“You know, you didn’t have to apologise. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He gestured with his dry hand, one quick sweep indicating nothing before he stopped and touched her cheek instead. “I’m just… That was selfish of me, in the first place. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“It wasn’t selfish, really. I suppose I’m relieved someone would want me like that after what happened.” The half smile was back in place, warmer than she’d show a stranger, but still reserved.

She stepped away from him on silent feet, stopping just before the doorway to her bedroom. “I think pushing might be the only way to get myself back, but that’s something I still need to decide. But for now… I have some things I need to mull over before I think about that issue.”

An idle hand rose to rest against the wall; partly to steady herself, partly to keep her hand from fidgeting. “I really do appreciate the things you do for me… I hope you know that.”

He leaned back against the counter and watched her walk across the flat, vaguely reminded of the first time he’d been in this place, a daffodil on the counter in a glass jar, his lungs feeling similar to the way they did now. Crocuses. They had talked about Crocuses in her journal when he introduced himself. So much had happened since then.

The way she was lingering just outside her bedroom door combined with her words to tell him, with little room for misunderstanding, that she wanted him to leave but was too polite to say so in blatant terms. He nodded quietly, letting the distance stand between them, separated as they were by her movement. Still he remained where he was.

“…I know. I’m sorry I can’t seem to do more.”

She turned to face him with a wry look, a glimpse of her past self. “You do plenty. More than you should. I need to learn not to push you and concentrate on pushing myself.” The hand on the wall moved just in time to cover a yawn. It took several moments for the yawn to die down, leaving her standing in front of her door, hand hovering over her mouth like she was trying to keep a bug out.

Finally, a soft laugh slipped free, releasing some of the anxiety that had coiled in her spine all evening. “I think I’m tired of being upset so much… not just tired.” She leaned against the doorframe of her room and smiled a drowsy smile. “You need some rest, too. I’d ask you to stay, but I don’t think you would.”

I’d be tempted, and then I’d feel guilty.

“No… I’d keep you awake with all the coughing.” He rubbed his hands against the sides of his pants, keeping eye contact even when the open seam he’d ruined earlier tickled his leg, reminding him of its presence. She looked so exhausted, and after their long discussion and everything else that had happened recently, he felt similar.

“Go ahead and get some sleep, if you can. You know I’m upstairs if you need anything.” Pushing away from the counter, he walked quietly to the couch and his sandals, slipping his feet back into them before heading to the door. A glance over his shoulder showed that she was still waiting, polite as ever, when he turned the doorknob to let himself out.

“Goodnight, Nanao…”

He walked back up the stairs in silence, hands loose at his sides and expression blank. His keys rattled as he unlocked the door to his own flat, and weary as he was, he considered curling up on the couch for a moment before he realized that he had made his way to his bed without even paying attention.

Food could wait for another day.