Chapter Text
One drink turned into two and two into three, or was it four? Sumire was beginning to think it was five, but she wouldn't be surprised if it was actually six.
She collapsed into the living room couch once her body screamed for her to stop, just for a second. That night she discovered that she didn’t tolerate alcohol. It was the first time that she had more than one drink in one night.
Only a few minutes had passed and already many guys had tried to sit next to her and, of course, hit on her, but it only took Sumire to raise her hand and show them the ring on her finger for those guys to walk away. At least that stupid ring was useful for something. Rejecting ugly and weird dudes has never been so easy before.
The expensive and delicate white dress was suffering from being worn on such an informal occasion. But Sumire didn't care, at this point she really didn't care about anything at all anymore. She had spent the whole week blowing up her father's credit card on clothes and all she could think about was getting home and throwing that dress into the trash, not that she didn't like it, it was a beautiful dress, but she wanted to waste her father’s money as much as possible. Just for the fun of it.
She thought she would rather not come home, ever again.
“Have you given up already?'” A whisper in her ear made her jump in fright. Sumire hadn't heard or seen when Sarada, the hostess, sat down next to her.
Sumire laughed seeing that it was just her friend and not some disgusting guy, “Given up? Hell no. I'm just resting to keep going in a few seconds.’’
Sarada's red lips stretched into a smile, she loved when Sumire acted like that. As if nothing in the world really mattered, although she was sad to know that the next morning she would be back to normal again.
Once again Sarada approached her ear, almost touching Sumire’s skin, “There’s a friend I want to introduce you to.”
Sumire looked at Sarada's black eyes for a moment, there was a particular sparkle in them.
“Sarada…’’
“Oh, don't tell me you're going to be loyal to a guy you don’t even love,” she said, raising an eyebrow, using the tone of voice that Sumire recognized as the one that prompted her to take bad decisions, “C’mon, one last hookup isn't gonna hurt anyone.”
Sumire kept looking at her with a small smile on her lips. If she had been a little more sober, her answer might have been different.
“Fine,” she replied in defeat, making the other girl giggle, “That guy better be cute or I'll kill you.”
“When have I introduced you to an ugly guy?’’
“Don’t make me remember…’’ Sumire said, making Sarada laugh.
“I have no idea where he is now, but when I see him I'll bring it to you right away,” she kissed Sumire's cheek, leaving a bit of lipstick on her skin, and after winking she got up from the couch and left.
Sumire sat there for a few more seconds. She wanted to check the time on her cell phone but it wouldn't turn on, the battery was dead. Rolling her eyes, she got up from the couch and pulled her dress down a bit as she felt it too high.
She headed behind the island. She stopped to say hi to some of the people she knew from high school or college. Scattered red solo cups and bottles of hard liquor sat on the island space. It was covered in little messes of liquor, the smells mixing together and making Sumire’s head hurt. Maybe she's had enough... Or maybe not.
With her head like a cloud, light and airy, Sumire swayed her hips in a body of people. Her eyes were closed as the song worked its way into her muscles, moving them in a motion that made her limbs feel like flowing water. At that moment, Sumire was not thinking about anything. She had no idea where her friends were and she had no desire to look for them either. The last time she saw Wasabi, Sumire was on her drink number three and, honestly, she had no idea how many drinks she was on now. Sumire wasn't thinking about anything, and if she was, it would only be herself and the song that was playing.
Sumire turned slowly as she danced, her glass swaying with her as her hands moved up and down to the beat, softly humming the rhythm under her breath. Her hand hit someone in the confined space they were in, and Sumire almost didn't want to apologize, she was too caught up in the rhythm of the music and her mind was elsewhere. But a hand grabbed her wrist and stopped her in mid-motion, she felt the beer in her glass spill onto her hand. Now I'm gonna smell, she thought to herself, great.
She opened her eyes, “Hey, what's your-“ Her mouth stopped moving as her eyes finally registered what she was looking at– who she was looking at. At first all she saw were diamonds. Diamonds along the man's face. Shit, he was handsome.
“Don’t you know how to apologize, kid?” He asked, loud enough to be heard over the loud music. The expression on his face showed how annoyed he was, but to Sumire it made him look much more handsome.
His eyes were sharp and of a color somewhere between gray and green, Sumire couldn't tell for sure because of the colored lights. His lips were full and a little chapped but shiny from the drinks he had. He had a tattoo under his eye and piercings in his ears and eyebrows. Sumire was sure he wasn't from town, because if he was, she would have remembered seeing such a stunning face.
“Stunning,” she said out loud, an intrusive thought escaping her lips, not loud enough for him to hear, but he could read her lips and understand perfectly. A smile stretched across his lips as he arched an eyebrow.
Shit, she thought to herself again, handsome and with a cute smile.
The man's hand releasing hers was enough to snap Sumire out of the thousand fantasies she was creating in her head, all centered around the cute stranger. Sumire shook her head realizing that she was acting like one of those weird guys who came up to her all the time.
“S-Sorry!” Sumire fiddled with her now half-empty glass, she could feel the nerves of her natural state returning to her.
He laughed, perhaps teasing her, but Sumire smiled at it.
It had been more than half an hour since Sarada told her that she would introduce her to a friend, but now, looking at the cute face of the cute stranger, Sumire thought that she no longer needed that friend of Sarada.
“May I know your name?” She asked, stepping forward, closer to him. Even if Sumire was wearing heels, she was still much shorter than him, which was great, because she had always liked tall guys.
“Kawaki,” Kawaki replied.
Sumire smiled, “Sumire.”
The song changed and the energy went with it. The room got louder and people screamed to the beat of the music. Some bodies rubbed against Sumire as they jumped to the beat, and that was disgusting to her. Her gaze lowered to his hands, they were big compared to hers and his veins stood out. It took her only a second to grab one of them and take another step forward. Nodding her head slightly and smiling, she let her lips say;
“Let me help you clean you up,” they were close enough for him to feel her hot breath on his skin.
Sumire smiled thinking how obedient he was to be guided around the house, holding her hand like a kid who had no idea where he had gotten so lucky to be dragged by a pretty girl to God-knows-where. Sumire knew Sarada's house like the back of her hand, she had spent half of her life there; after school, after parties, at sleepovers or when she just didn't want to go back to her house.
She opened a door, going through it and Kawaki closed it behind him. Kawaki, Kawaki, Kawaki. She really liked that name.
Kawaki blinked at the fact that it was nothing more than a bedroom. It was a bit small but it had a bed and it was enough. Kawaki was on his lucky day.
“The bathroom is over there,’’ Sumire said, finally letting go of his hand and turning towards him, her arm outstretched pointing at a door at the end of the room.
Oh, Kawaki thought. He nodded and walked towards her, making sure his steps weren't too slow or too fast in fear of looking like anything in Sumire's sight.
As the door closed behind Kawaki, Sumire sat up on the bed. Resting her hands on her knees, thinking about whether she should play with him and just leave the room or stay there and let him decide what was gonna happen next. Ah… he was too cute to leave.
Having cleaned himself up, Kawaki returned to the bedroom. Sumire was still sitting on the bed, gently kicking her feet back and forth as she waited. She looked up when the streak of light from the bathroom reached her. Their eyes met again.
“So… Kawaki,” she said, getting up from the bed and hiding her hands behind her back as she began to walk slowly towards him, “You're not from here, right?”
“Right,” he replied, “I'm here on vacation.”
“ Vacation? In such a boring town?” She asked, laughing delicately. Kawaki found it cute the way her eyes turned into half moons when she smiled.
“I was just passing by and heard there was a big party going on, so…” he shrugged.
“Passing by? What is your destiny then?’’
“I don't have one,” he replied.
Sumire blinked, and Kawaki wondered if he had said the wrong thing as her eyes widened and her mouth fell into an 'o'. But the doubt vanished when he saw how her eyes began to shine as a smile appeared on her lips.
“So… You’re running away?’’ She suggested, the sweet smile still on her lips. At her question, she bowed her head and her hair fell along with it; her bangs brushing her eyes. Kawaki wanted to reach out and brush her hair to the side. But he didn’t. He wasn't entirely sure that he was allowed to touch her. She looked too delicate, too expensive, to be touched by his rough hands.
“You can call it that,” he replied. It was exactly that.
The next thing Kawaki knew was that her lips were now against his. Her pale white hands on the sides of his face, drawing him closer to her. Yes, he was not crazy. The cute girl named 'Sumire', had pulled him into a kiss. Without any word or sign before. Grabbing his shirt and pulling him close to her, pressing her lips to his in a messy kiss.
Sumire wasn't focused on making it romantic. She was focused on one thing; Kawaki's feeling against her. The feel of his lips on hers, his hands on her waist that shamelessly slid down to her ass.
Kawaki almost forgot about the party and the noise outside, it was hot between them. Sumire's skin was like fire against his own. Her hands warmed his icy skin and her kisses burned him. Sumire's hands found their own way around him, she allowed herself to touch every place she had been curious about. His arms were as strong as she imagined they would be. His chest: strong, soft, warm. Sumire liked having her hands there. Or maybe Sumire just liked having Kawaki in her hands.
She literally took his breath away. Draining him of the oxygen in his lungs and the force on his knees. Lost in the strawberry flavor of her tongue, she kissed him as if she longed to have someone to give her heart to. As if she was overflowing with love that she didn't know where to pour it.
Then, Sumire abruptly pulled away from him, leaving Kawaki with his lips parted and a confused look on his face.
“Take me with you,’’ she said, before swallowing hard and looking at him with big, bright, puppy-like eyes and… how could Kawaki say no to that face?
It was out of character for Sumire to ask. They were strangers, they had just met. And at a party of all places. But she wasn't afraid, for some reason she wasn't afraid of him. When she looked at his face, like at that exact moment, Sumire thought that she could cast aside caution and take all the risks. She would hang over the edge and marvel at the sights below. For once, she wouldn't be afraid. For once, she would do what she wanted to do.
“Are you sure about this?” Kawaki asked for what seemed like the fifth time that night, as Sumire returned to his truck with a bag full of necessities, taking one last look at her house– her father's house.
Kawaki couldn't tell her no, he really couldn't. And before he knew, she had gotten into his truck, in the passenger seat, explaining where her house was so she could go get her stuff. Kawaki knew it was a bad idea, he knew it but he couldn't stop himself. He couldn’t. He just stood there, listening intently to her directions and waiting anxiously from his seat.
The house he left her in was big, huge, and he wondered why Sumire wanted to leave that place and go with a guy who only had a truck and a little money in his wallet. Kawaki thought that once she entered her house she would regret it and tell him to forget everything she’d said, but she didn't. Instead, she sat back in the passenger seat, leaving her backpack in the back of the truck and fastening her seat belt.
“Yes, Kawaki,’’ she replied giggling, a little tired of him worrying too much, “I need to go away for a while– or forever, I don't know.”
Sumire saw the insecurity on Kawaki's face, trying to tell her that it was a bad idea, that she would regret it tomorrow morning. And Sumire, sighing but still smiling, held his hand to assure him that she wanted this. And she felt it, a strong connection flowing through her system; tingling, electrifying, empowering. Linking her soul with his, entwining the strings of fate that hung from their pinkies. She silently hoped he could feel it too; that miniscule tug directly from her heartbeat.
“Okay,” he breathed out, squeezing her hand as if trying to convince himself, “Okay. But I have one rule if you’re coming with me.”
Sumire looked at him with expectant eyes, ready to accept any condition. Any.
“Don’t get too attached with me.”
And as if it were the last straw, with that one condition, Sumire felt for the first time that night that she was making a mistake.