First Date
Feb. 4th, 2020 08:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nyanderenekoWord Count: 2,161
Summary: She’s always wanted to see the ocean, and he happens to know one of the best places to do that. But, ultimately, the only thing that really matters to either of them is getting to spend more time together.
Author’s Note: A friend helped me decide which f/o to use for this prompt, which was good because I’ve really struggled with settling on who I’ll use for which prompt for this month T^T I want to focus on my top 3 because I just want to make content for them, but since Saruhiko already has so much lol…that kind of narrows it down, but I’m ranting and this has nothing to do with the fic. This is actually a scenario I’ve been meaning to write for a while so I just tailored it for this specific prompt, and I think it turned out pretty okay! Well, at the end it kind of spiraled out of control, but I didn’t feel there was anything more I could do with it. Completed with some inspiration from this particular post that just punched me in the gut the first time I read it lol.
The Yokohama sunset was unlike any spectacle Nova had ever had the pleasure of appraising with her own eyes. A mesmerizing array of colors, swirling shades of honey gold and dark amber, bright rosy pink and delicate lilac. The salty tang of the sea filled her nostrils, leaving an aftertaste of the ocean dripping down her throat. Her sharp ears swiveled from side to side, always on alert, always picking up on the various sounds that drifted by from the city or off the water as she strolled along. Like the rhythmic breaking of the waves against the bank, wearing down the rocky barriers with every swell, and the dissonant din of the metropolis that she’d come to recognize as little more than background noise in her daily life.
“What do you think?”
Dazai’s tone was casual, with a hint of genuine curiosity accompanying his words. Could there be anticipation there, too? Anxiety? Was he worried about what her answer would be? That seemed unlikely, quite out of character for the man that was always so sure of himself. What did her opinion matter to him, anyway? She supposed she should consider that he may have a sincere interest in her, in what she thought, now that things had changed. Now that she’d made that dreadful, silly, dramatic mistake that she couldn’t take back, and that he seemed more than happy to humor. But was his humor heartfelt, or just a game for his own amusement?
“It’s very beautiful,” she answered plainly. Anyone with decent vision could have seen that. There was no sense in stating the obvious, but she was low on creativity, and that was the best opinion she could offer.
“The ocean? Or the sunset?”
In her mind, it was both. Did the distinction really matter? Perhaps in his mind, but she saw the entire scene as one entity, one subject to be judged as a whole. She was whole now, and the innocuous reminder scared her, stole the breath from her lungs. She froze and clasped her hands together, legs trembling as if they might give out at any moment. She shook her head and cast her eyes back to the sunset over the sea, clawing her way out of that bottomless, tumultuous void. She never had to worry about being swallowed up by it again, at least no more than most other living beings did. She was a living, breathing being now, and it was going to take some time to adjust. Something foreign touched her hand after she placed it on the low wall they’d been paralleling in their strides. As she looked to see what it was she barely stopped herself from lurching back and losing her composure a second time.
“It’s alright. I won’t hurt you.”
He’d said that a lot lately. Repeated the phrase over and over, whether he realized it or not. Nova got the sense that he did, that he was doing it on purpose. It wasn’t a great mystery why he felt the need to do so. She’d been afraid of him before, and even now that panic still lingered in her to some extent…he was like a code she couldn’t crack, a shadow she couldn’t shake. He was unknown to her, and yet he always acted like he might as well have been the one that brought her to life. In some ways, maybe he had, but not in the same sense that was currently on her mind.
“I know.”
Did she really believe that? She’d believed it well enough to let him hold her, to let him kiss her during that exchange they’d shared only a few evenings ago. A mixture of disbelief and euphoria flooded her heart, making her chest ache under the weight and impact of her emotions. But his heartfelt vow wasn’t enough to exonerate him entirely, to convince her that he was incapable of committing any threatening acts against her with unquestionable certainty. And yet, regardless of whether or not she wanted to judge him in the harsh light of her condemnation, whether or not that was the wise thing to do, she simply didn’t.
She’d tried to keep her wits about her, clinging with sore, tired hands to the common sense that she’d taken solace in ever since she’d been introduced to this bleak, unforgiving world. That same common sense proved insufficient to serve her in any useful capacity when it came to him. She was a fish out of water, floundering helplessly on dry land and gasping for air that was perpetually out of reach. And he was like the cool water she longed for, the saving grace that she’d been too distracted by her own suffering to realize had been waiting right in front of her all along.
“You’ve been pretty quiet today,” he remarked, and she raised her eyes to his own involuntarily. The sight that met her as she did so knocked the wind out of her with a visceral blow. “Do you have something on your mind? Anything you want to talk about?”
He was stunning, dazzling in every sense of the word. Weak responses fought and clamored in her throat, but coherent thoughts were lucky if they even managed to materialize in her mind. The colors of the picturesque scene she’d viewed mere moments ago accentuated his naturally stunning features with their brilliant hues, highlighting his effortless radiance. He was like a painting, a masterful work of art that made her heart hammer so hard she expected it to shatter itself with every passing beat.
He prepared to ask if she felt alright but the question faded on his lips as he realized he had a fairly good idea of what the expression on her face was communicating. The shine in her eyes, the deep scarlet staining her cheeks, the silence that she was clearly fighting against in her own way. His fingers tingled where he’d touched her, where skin met skin in a benevolent display of concern. But every touch was significant, ground breaking, at least for the time being. It was evidence of the connection he’d been denied for so long, the profound yearning that’d plagued him as though he were being ravaged from the inside out.
He lifted his hand to her face and she flinched, but didn’t pull away. It was going to take time to adapt to this new norm, a reality where they didn’t have to be so careful, so cautious. Part of them didn’t see the harm in carrying on that way, but the truer parts of themselves wouldn’t stand for it. They’d been repressing and denying and cowering in fear for so long…now that the curse was lifted, what was the point of adhering to a restriction that had only caused them misery? What was the point of maintaining the wedge they’d forced between one another, all the while biding their time until they could figure out a way around it, a way to break it down, a way to bridge that agonizing gap of isolation?
Maybe it would be smarter to take things slow, to build up their resolve with smaller, more manageable steps. With that notion in mind Dazai dropped his hand from her cheek, trading it for the hand she still had resting on the stone partition. He lifted the back of it to his lips and she flinched again, but didn’t pull away. He was being mindful, deliberate, but there was something about the smouldering look in his mahogany eyes that told her the spell could break at any moment. Was he biding his time for something, a specific reaction or response from her? She didn’t know, and her heart was thudding too hard in her ears, breath coming too quick in her chest to allow her to clearly process her conjecture.
He turned her hand over in one fluid motion and placed another kiss to the tender flesh of her palm, and now she was starting to get light headed. His modest ministrations weren’t outrageous or overbearing, but something about his presence just overwhelmed her. He lifted her arm and his lips skimmed effortlessly across her skin, reminding her just how vulnerable and easily manipulated she was. If she was rational she would put a stop to this, right here and now, especially considering their current surroundings…but she was frozen, a deer caught in the headlights of his advance, and she couldn’t find the strength to spur him on nor force herself to break away.
He just kept going, moving higher and ever closer in his actions, and she wondered if this would go on for eternity. Of course she wasn’t thinking straight, her brain might as well have been disconnected from her body, her senses taking over as the only functions that managed to continue operating in this near catatonic state. If she genuinely wanted to stop him, she would have. He wasn’t pushing any boundaries she was uncomfortable with, wasn’t invading any space that she wasn’t consciously offering. Suspended in this strange limbo between lucidity and disorientation, her thoughts truly returned to her when she felt his lips meet her jaw at the junction of her neck.
“Maybe…we should--” But he silenced her with his impudence, persisting in his brazen exploration as she continued to fumble with words she could barely form in her head.
He paused to gently nuzzle the side of her face, sending a chill down her spine and stoking the fire in her veins as her nerves lit up like fireworks. He resumed his progress by traversing the arc of her cheek, stalling at the corner of her mouth as she impatiently waited for him to follow through on the anticipation he’d so painstakingly crafted. She swore she heard and felt the slightest trace of a chuckle against her skin, and if he insisted on toying with her like this much longer, she was going to claim the initiative for herself.
It didn’t have to come to that, though. Before one more frustrated thought could arise he took hold of her with a fervor and recklessness she expected to burn right through her. The world felt so far away…everything felt distant save for him. She could touch him and hear him and taste him and all the nights she’d spent miserably lamenting this intimacy that would surely never be seemed nothing more than nightmares, remote and unpleasant delusions in the face of his display. None of that could reach her now, nothing could even come close to harming or distracting her, separating her from him in any capacity when he held her in his arms like this, when he clutched her so tightly she couldn’t tell if the stars dancing behind her fluttering lids were a result of his intensity or the constriction of his unyielding embrace.
She shimmied and squirmed against him, struggling to communicate her necessity for air. He didn’t have to let her go entirely, he just needed to let her breathe…and although she was sure he wouldn’t mind ending it all in the asphyxiation of a feverish exchange, that was an outcome she wasn’t fond of in the least. Because, if nothing else, such a tragic turn of events only meant they would never again have the pleasure, the luxury to experience something as special as this ever again.
“I’m sorry for getting carried away,” he whispered against her lips, a chuckle undeniably following his words this time as he listened to her shallow gasps.
“No you’re not,” she managed to retort, no longer attempting to free herself now that he’d given her what she needed. “But I don’t really care. We haven’t really talked a lot about how all of this affected us--”
“We don’t need to,” he replied hastily.
“Well, I think we do,” she contended. “But we don’t have to do it now. Or tomorrow. Or next week. I think we’ll probably have plenty of time to discuss it when we’re ready.”
He uttered a noncommittal grunt into her hair, lips teasing the edge of her ear as it flicked involuntarily at his touch. She exhaled slowly, deliberately, appreciating the sensation of air properly filling and leaving her lungs. She melted against him, succumbing to his grasp like she knew he wanted her to, his plea obvious in the strength of his tenacious hold. She wasn’t sure how much longer they’d stand here like this, if the sky would be twinkling with stars above before they finally felt inclined to move from the spot. It was sure to be quite a memorable one for both of them from this day forward. But nothing they’d left behind in the past, or anything they were moving towards in the unknowable future, even came close to crossing their minds. Only the present, and the two individuals that found themselves stranded in this mystical moment of time, mattered at all.
Summary: She’s always wanted to see the ocean, and he happens to know one of the best places to do that. But, ultimately, the only thing that really matters to either of them is getting to spend more time together.
Author’s Note: A friend helped me decide which f/o to use for this prompt, which was good because I’ve really struggled with settling on who I’ll use for which prompt for this month T^T I want to focus on my top 3 because I just want to make content for them, but since Saruhiko already has so much lol…that kind of narrows it down, but I’m ranting and this has nothing to do with the fic. This is actually a scenario I’ve been meaning to write for a while so I just tailored it for this specific prompt, and I think it turned out pretty okay! Well, at the end it kind of spiraled out of control, but I didn’t feel there was anything more I could do with it. Completed with some inspiration from this particular post that just punched me in the gut the first time I read it lol.
__________
The Yokohama sunset was unlike any spectacle Nova had ever had the pleasure of appraising with her own eyes. A mesmerizing array of colors, swirling shades of honey gold and dark amber, bright rosy pink and delicate lilac. The salty tang of the sea filled her nostrils, leaving an aftertaste of the ocean dripping down her throat. Her sharp ears swiveled from side to side, always on alert, always picking up on the various sounds that drifted by from the city or off the water as she strolled along. Like the rhythmic breaking of the waves against the bank, wearing down the rocky barriers with every swell, and the dissonant din of the metropolis that she’d come to recognize as little more than background noise in her daily life.
“What do you think?”
Dazai’s tone was casual, with a hint of genuine curiosity accompanying his words. Could there be anticipation there, too? Anxiety? Was he worried about what her answer would be? That seemed unlikely, quite out of character for the man that was always so sure of himself. What did her opinion matter to him, anyway? She supposed she should consider that he may have a sincere interest in her, in what she thought, now that things had changed. Now that she’d made that dreadful, silly, dramatic mistake that she couldn’t take back, and that he seemed more than happy to humor. But was his humor heartfelt, or just a game for his own amusement?
“It’s very beautiful,” she answered plainly. Anyone with decent vision could have seen that. There was no sense in stating the obvious, but she was low on creativity, and that was the best opinion she could offer.
“The ocean? Or the sunset?”
In her mind, it was both. Did the distinction really matter? Perhaps in his mind, but she saw the entire scene as one entity, one subject to be judged as a whole. She was whole now, and the innocuous reminder scared her, stole the breath from her lungs. She froze and clasped her hands together, legs trembling as if they might give out at any moment. She shook her head and cast her eyes back to the sunset over the sea, clawing her way out of that bottomless, tumultuous void. She never had to worry about being swallowed up by it again, at least no more than most other living beings did. She was a living, breathing being now, and it was going to take some time to adjust. Something foreign touched her hand after she placed it on the low wall they’d been paralleling in their strides. As she looked to see what it was she barely stopped herself from lurching back and losing her composure a second time.
“It’s alright. I won’t hurt you.”
He’d said that a lot lately. Repeated the phrase over and over, whether he realized it or not. Nova got the sense that he did, that he was doing it on purpose. It wasn’t a great mystery why he felt the need to do so. She’d been afraid of him before, and even now that panic still lingered in her to some extent…he was like a code she couldn’t crack, a shadow she couldn’t shake. He was unknown to her, and yet he always acted like he might as well have been the one that brought her to life. In some ways, maybe he had, but not in the same sense that was currently on her mind.
“I know.”
Did she really believe that? She’d believed it well enough to let him hold her, to let him kiss her during that exchange they’d shared only a few evenings ago. A mixture of disbelief and euphoria flooded her heart, making her chest ache under the weight and impact of her emotions. But his heartfelt vow wasn’t enough to exonerate him entirely, to convince her that he was incapable of committing any threatening acts against her with unquestionable certainty. And yet, regardless of whether or not she wanted to judge him in the harsh light of her condemnation, whether or not that was the wise thing to do, she simply didn’t.
She’d tried to keep her wits about her, clinging with sore, tired hands to the common sense that she’d taken solace in ever since she’d been introduced to this bleak, unforgiving world. That same common sense proved insufficient to serve her in any useful capacity when it came to him. She was a fish out of water, floundering helplessly on dry land and gasping for air that was perpetually out of reach. And he was like the cool water she longed for, the saving grace that she’d been too distracted by her own suffering to realize had been waiting right in front of her all along.
“You’ve been pretty quiet today,” he remarked, and she raised her eyes to his own involuntarily. The sight that met her as she did so knocked the wind out of her with a visceral blow. “Do you have something on your mind? Anything you want to talk about?”
He was stunning, dazzling in every sense of the word. Weak responses fought and clamored in her throat, but coherent thoughts were lucky if they even managed to materialize in her mind. The colors of the picturesque scene she’d viewed mere moments ago accentuated his naturally stunning features with their brilliant hues, highlighting his effortless radiance. He was like a painting, a masterful work of art that made her heart hammer so hard she expected it to shatter itself with every passing beat.
He prepared to ask if she felt alright but the question faded on his lips as he realized he had a fairly good idea of what the expression on her face was communicating. The shine in her eyes, the deep scarlet staining her cheeks, the silence that she was clearly fighting against in her own way. His fingers tingled where he’d touched her, where skin met skin in a benevolent display of concern. But every touch was significant, ground breaking, at least for the time being. It was evidence of the connection he’d been denied for so long, the profound yearning that’d plagued him as though he were being ravaged from the inside out.
He lifted his hand to her face and she flinched, but didn’t pull away. It was going to take time to adapt to this new norm, a reality where they didn’t have to be so careful, so cautious. Part of them didn’t see the harm in carrying on that way, but the truer parts of themselves wouldn’t stand for it. They’d been repressing and denying and cowering in fear for so long…now that the curse was lifted, what was the point of adhering to a restriction that had only caused them misery? What was the point of maintaining the wedge they’d forced between one another, all the while biding their time until they could figure out a way around it, a way to break it down, a way to bridge that agonizing gap of isolation?
Maybe it would be smarter to take things slow, to build up their resolve with smaller, more manageable steps. With that notion in mind Dazai dropped his hand from her cheek, trading it for the hand she still had resting on the stone partition. He lifted the back of it to his lips and she flinched again, but didn’t pull away. He was being mindful, deliberate, but there was something about the smouldering look in his mahogany eyes that told her the spell could break at any moment. Was he biding his time for something, a specific reaction or response from her? She didn’t know, and her heart was thudding too hard in her ears, breath coming too quick in her chest to allow her to clearly process her conjecture.
He turned her hand over in one fluid motion and placed another kiss to the tender flesh of her palm, and now she was starting to get light headed. His modest ministrations weren’t outrageous or overbearing, but something about his presence just overwhelmed her. He lifted her arm and his lips skimmed effortlessly across her skin, reminding her just how vulnerable and easily manipulated she was. If she was rational she would put a stop to this, right here and now, especially considering their current surroundings…but she was frozen, a deer caught in the headlights of his advance, and she couldn’t find the strength to spur him on nor force herself to break away.
He just kept going, moving higher and ever closer in his actions, and she wondered if this would go on for eternity. Of course she wasn’t thinking straight, her brain might as well have been disconnected from her body, her senses taking over as the only functions that managed to continue operating in this near catatonic state. If she genuinely wanted to stop him, she would have. He wasn’t pushing any boundaries she was uncomfortable with, wasn’t invading any space that she wasn’t consciously offering. Suspended in this strange limbo between lucidity and disorientation, her thoughts truly returned to her when she felt his lips meet her jaw at the junction of her neck.
“Maybe…we should--” But he silenced her with his impudence, persisting in his brazen exploration as she continued to fumble with words she could barely form in her head.
He paused to gently nuzzle the side of her face, sending a chill down her spine and stoking the fire in her veins as her nerves lit up like fireworks. He resumed his progress by traversing the arc of her cheek, stalling at the corner of her mouth as she impatiently waited for him to follow through on the anticipation he’d so painstakingly crafted. She swore she heard and felt the slightest trace of a chuckle against her skin, and if he insisted on toying with her like this much longer, she was going to claim the initiative for herself.
It didn’t have to come to that, though. Before one more frustrated thought could arise he took hold of her with a fervor and recklessness she expected to burn right through her. The world felt so far away…everything felt distant save for him. She could touch him and hear him and taste him and all the nights she’d spent miserably lamenting this intimacy that would surely never be seemed nothing more than nightmares, remote and unpleasant delusions in the face of his display. None of that could reach her now, nothing could even come close to harming or distracting her, separating her from him in any capacity when he held her in his arms like this, when he clutched her so tightly she couldn’t tell if the stars dancing behind her fluttering lids were a result of his intensity or the constriction of his unyielding embrace.
She shimmied and squirmed against him, struggling to communicate her necessity for air. He didn’t have to let her go entirely, he just needed to let her breathe…and although she was sure he wouldn’t mind ending it all in the asphyxiation of a feverish exchange, that was an outcome she wasn’t fond of in the least. Because, if nothing else, such a tragic turn of events only meant they would never again have the pleasure, the luxury to experience something as special as this ever again.
“I’m sorry for getting carried away,” he whispered against her lips, a chuckle undeniably following his words this time as he listened to her shallow gasps.
“No you’re not,” she managed to retort, no longer attempting to free herself now that he’d given her what she needed. “But I don’t really care. We haven’t really talked a lot about how all of this affected us--”
“We don’t need to,” he replied hastily.
“Well, I think we do,” she contended. “But we don’t have to do it now. Or tomorrow. Or next week. I think we’ll probably have plenty of time to discuss it when we’re ready.”
He uttered a noncommittal grunt into her hair, lips teasing the edge of her ear as it flicked involuntarily at his touch. She exhaled slowly, deliberately, appreciating the sensation of air properly filling and leaving her lungs. She melted against him, succumbing to his grasp like she knew he wanted her to, his plea obvious in the strength of his tenacious hold. She wasn’t sure how much longer they’d stand here like this, if the sky would be twinkling with stars above before they finally felt inclined to move from the spot. It was sure to be quite a memorable one for both of them from this day forward. But nothing they’d left behind in the past, or anything they were moving towards in the unknowable future, even came close to crossing their minds. Only the present, and the two individuals that found themselves stranded in this mystical moment of time, mattered at all.