Caramel Macchiato Lies chapter 1/1 ToraxShou
Title: Caramel Macchiato Lies
Chapters: 1/1
Author: mxtrxofsomer
Genre: fluff?
Band(s): Alice Nine
Pairing: Tora x Shou
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: not much
Synopsis: “they are indifferent, they like to pretend we don’t know”
Notes: me was suddenly inspired >///<
“You okay?”
He doesn’t speak but he nods idly, pushing himself deeper in the comforts of the elegant sofa, his body drowning in the size of the seat, black hair melting on the background of fine red cotton furs. He forcefully shuts his eyes, kneads his shoulders once or twice then slumps them tiredly on the backrest, sighing a heavy breath. He throws his hands in the air for some seconds, as if waiting for someone to grab them and pull him up but when no one does, he lets his arms drop over his head then wipes the thick sleeves of his white jacket on his forehead.
“Hey,” I say in a hushed tone, concerned, inhaling a streak of restless air through my lips and hopping closer beside him on the adjoined pieces of furniture. Very cautiously, I curl my fingers around the circle of his left shoulder, squeezing it gently and shaking him to gain his attention, to relieve him from whatever distress he currently feels. He shrugs a little at the gesture, uncomfortable, and politely declines my strained effort, slipping a fair gap away. Suddenly lost, my hand falls, disappointed on the space between us and the texture of the cloaked cushion somehow makes my palm tingle a strange itch. My chest constricts at his physical state; I do not know it but I certainly do know. “Do you perhaps…”
“No,” he mumbles cutting me short, face still buried under the protection of his lengthy arms. “Just not,” he pleads, with his voice distinctively hoarser in those too few syllables and I am beginning to doubt if it really comes from over-exhaustion, like what he has forced the rest of us to believe. “One more.”
From his weakened glow, my eyes travel to the only other being in the reserved chamber, sitting from across us and calmly observing our scene. Our gazes meet unsurprisingly and he narrows his eyes at me, an obvious question forming on the muscle between his eyebrows. He runs his fingers over his meticulously styled dark hair, flattens the mess he has done on it and in that instant, telepathy seems to have worked a spark between our minds for our voices are wholly suppressed but they reverberate softly through unspoken dialect.
What do we do? he asks, or rather, I interpret him ask as he tilts his head towards the delicate creature beside me, keeping his careful stare bonded with my hopeful one.
I don’t know, anxious, I frown, frantically rubbing my itching palms against the rough material of my clothing, feeling outright useless for not having a better answer.
Exhaling dejectedly, he presses his lips into a thin line, cheeks tugging at their small corners to expose his dimples, only, they don’t glitter with their usual infectious brightness this time and that disheartens me even more. He drags his weight at the edge of his seat, briefly scratches his neck in hesitation but then takes the bottle of brown liquid on the table in front of us, and picks up one empty untouched glass. He fills the transparent container half its volume, sets the bottle back to its original place, and tosses in some cubes of ice. Lifting the newly-made concoction to his eye-level, he examines it with a look of strong distaste and wrinkles his nose, stretching his arm forward. “Shou, here.”
Shou is slow at his reactions but he manages to straighten himself up and accept the offered drink with a clumsy grip. Probably still in a half-trance, he gulps but he doesn’t drink and instead holds the glass still on his lap, lazily throwing his other hand back on his face to hide himself from the intense light blazing above us. Seeing him like this, I only bite my lip hard; there is a wish for me to reach out and brush away the lines on his pale skin but Shou keeps himself to himself for a reason and locks have very specific keys.
There’s barely a single sound when the door opens and I don’t realize it when the two other presence crowd in to complete our circle of five. It’s only when my blood goes cold that I feel the icy heat of being subjected under a sharp gaze. There is his tall figure, standing a few feet from the door, plain and unspeaking but demanding all attention with the intimidating aura that he carries. I glance at his faultlessly outlined face, catching his eyes and I can’t help but flinch. For the hundredth time since we’ve become band mates in Alice Nine, I concur that his name fits him perfectly. His appearance indeed belongs to the jungle; my insides are madly trembling and I think that any moment I’ll die.
Fortunately for me, after about a minute of pure torture, his eyes dart away and I clutch the front of my coat to allow the air to circulate again so I can breathe. Relieved, I follow his line of sight and I see something different, a specific change in his caramel orbs that instantly makes my heart skip a nervous beat. He is looking, staring, watching a picture of depression, the complete mess sitting beside me, Shou. And from the deathly daggers his eyes were a while ago, they are now softened, so tender that I can see liquid diamonds flicker on them. From my distance I notice his lips quiver the slightest and he huffs, taking quick but calculated steps on the tiled floor and no sooner, I find his form shadowing both me and Shou from the light.
He makes no announcement of his presence and directly plants himself on the other side equivalent to mine, but unlike me, he’s unafraid of the proximity and his shoulder intently touches Shou’s. Shou stirs up but he doesn’t shy away and I fall out of place, perhaps same as the other two remaining witnesses in the room. We don’t communicate or even try doing so but we arrive at an understanding well beyond anyone could have in a similar situation; one is yellow and the other is violet and together they are white.
He snatches the cup of drink from Shou’s loose grasp and empties it straight, leaving only the shrunken pieces of ice. They clink against the glass when he places it on the table and the sound seems to be the only one that alerts the nearly-unconscious Shou. “I’m sorry,” he faintly speaks, his pitch almost breaking.
“Not angry,” smiling, he replies, taking Shou’s stubborn hand off his face and rests his palm on the other fairly longer before letting go. “You choose though, it’s either I humiliate you by rooting for you in all your remaining rounds of alcohol or you go home.”
“You take him home Tora,” comes a smart suggestion from the far corner of the room. Surprised, we all turn at the source of it, his brown bangs is concealing the sincerity of his expression but I feel that it’s unimportant because the moment Tora has stepped in here, circumstances have already been decided.
Tora nods and says thank you as Shou tells us his apology. And even there, in those short phrases separately delivered, their simplicity is evident that it’s almost blinding me.
I accept, it is me, I am in love, certainly, for I don’t fail to discern how close they are as they stand up and walk skin on skin, friendly or more than friendly in their own ways. I am in love, definitely for I feel my heart jump with envy at how beautiful they are or how their backs appear like puzzles bound to be pieced together as they close the door behind them. I am envious, yes, but I don’t feel the ugly burn of it in my chest, and I don’t even care if it is unrequited. There is love that need not be sated and I claim it, so long as the two of them are happy, I’ll be…
“Saga?” I hear Nao call and I immediately leave my thoughts to concentrate, after all, they can wait.
“Cheers?” he then adds, placing a half-filled glass in my hand.
“For knowing,” Hiroto agrees, raising his own drink and taking the spot on the couch that the two have abandoned. “May the bastards realize that we aren’t idiots.”
We lightly knock our glasses together and laugh. We all take it flippantly, but I know, as I glimpse at their faces, all of us are just as in love.
-----
Endnotes: not my first time using an indirect person’s POV (just like it better this time). took longer than intended and full of mad representations. comments are huge <333s
Fanfic Archive
Chapters: 1/1
Author: mxtrxofsomer
Genre: fluff?
Band(s): Alice Nine
Pairing: Tora x Shou
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: not much
Synopsis: “they are indifferent, they like to pretend we don’t know”
Notes: me was suddenly inspired >///<
“You okay?”
He doesn’t speak but he nods idly, pushing himself deeper in the comforts of the elegant sofa, his body drowning in the size of the seat, black hair melting on the background of fine red cotton furs. He forcefully shuts his eyes, kneads his shoulders once or twice then slumps them tiredly on the backrest, sighing a heavy breath. He throws his hands in the air for some seconds, as if waiting for someone to grab them and pull him up but when no one does, he lets his arms drop over his head then wipes the thick sleeves of his white jacket on his forehead.
“Hey,” I say in a hushed tone, concerned, inhaling a streak of restless air through my lips and hopping closer beside him on the adjoined pieces of furniture. Very cautiously, I curl my fingers around the circle of his left shoulder, squeezing it gently and shaking him to gain his attention, to relieve him from whatever distress he currently feels. He shrugs a little at the gesture, uncomfortable, and politely declines my strained effort, slipping a fair gap away. Suddenly lost, my hand falls, disappointed on the space between us and the texture of the cloaked cushion somehow makes my palm tingle a strange itch. My chest constricts at his physical state; I do not know it but I certainly do know. “Do you perhaps…”
“No,” he mumbles cutting me short, face still buried under the protection of his lengthy arms. “Just not,” he pleads, with his voice distinctively hoarser in those too few syllables and I am beginning to doubt if it really comes from over-exhaustion, like what he has forced the rest of us to believe. “One more.”
From his weakened glow, my eyes travel to the only other being in the reserved chamber, sitting from across us and calmly observing our scene. Our gazes meet unsurprisingly and he narrows his eyes at me, an obvious question forming on the muscle between his eyebrows. He runs his fingers over his meticulously styled dark hair, flattens the mess he has done on it and in that instant, telepathy seems to have worked a spark between our minds for our voices are wholly suppressed but they reverberate softly through unspoken dialect.
What do we do? he asks, or rather, I interpret him ask as he tilts his head towards the delicate creature beside me, keeping his careful stare bonded with my hopeful one.
I don’t know, anxious, I frown, frantically rubbing my itching palms against the rough material of my clothing, feeling outright useless for not having a better answer.
Exhaling dejectedly, he presses his lips into a thin line, cheeks tugging at their small corners to expose his dimples, only, they don’t glitter with their usual infectious brightness this time and that disheartens me even more. He drags his weight at the edge of his seat, briefly scratches his neck in hesitation but then takes the bottle of brown liquid on the table in front of us, and picks up one empty untouched glass. He fills the transparent container half its volume, sets the bottle back to its original place, and tosses in some cubes of ice. Lifting the newly-made concoction to his eye-level, he examines it with a look of strong distaste and wrinkles his nose, stretching his arm forward. “Shou, here.”
Shou is slow at his reactions but he manages to straighten himself up and accept the offered drink with a clumsy grip. Probably still in a half-trance, he gulps but he doesn’t drink and instead holds the glass still on his lap, lazily throwing his other hand back on his face to hide himself from the intense light blazing above us. Seeing him like this, I only bite my lip hard; there is a wish for me to reach out and brush away the lines on his pale skin but Shou keeps himself to himself for a reason and locks have very specific keys.
There’s barely a single sound when the door opens and I don’t realize it when the two other presence crowd in to complete our circle of five. It’s only when my blood goes cold that I feel the icy heat of being subjected under a sharp gaze. There is his tall figure, standing a few feet from the door, plain and unspeaking but demanding all attention with the intimidating aura that he carries. I glance at his faultlessly outlined face, catching his eyes and I can’t help but flinch. For the hundredth time since we’ve become band mates in Alice Nine, I concur that his name fits him perfectly. His appearance indeed belongs to the jungle; my insides are madly trembling and I think that any moment I’ll die.
Fortunately for me, after about a minute of pure torture, his eyes dart away and I clutch the front of my coat to allow the air to circulate again so I can breathe. Relieved, I follow his line of sight and I see something different, a specific change in his caramel orbs that instantly makes my heart skip a nervous beat. He is looking, staring, watching a picture of depression, the complete mess sitting beside me, Shou. And from the deathly daggers his eyes were a while ago, they are now softened, so tender that I can see liquid diamonds flicker on them. From my distance I notice his lips quiver the slightest and he huffs, taking quick but calculated steps on the tiled floor and no sooner, I find his form shadowing both me and Shou from the light.
He makes no announcement of his presence and directly plants himself on the other side equivalent to mine, but unlike me, he’s unafraid of the proximity and his shoulder intently touches Shou’s. Shou stirs up but he doesn’t shy away and I fall out of place, perhaps same as the other two remaining witnesses in the room. We don’t communicate or even try doing so but we arrive at an understanding well beyond anyone could have in a similar situation; one is yellow and the other is violet and together they are white.
He snatches the cup of drink from Shou’s loose grasp and empties it straight, leaving only the shrunken pieces of ice. They clink against the glass when he places it on the table and the sound seems to be the only one that alerts the nearly-unconscious Shou. “I’m sorry,” he faintly speaks, his pitch almost breaking.
“Not angry,” smiling, he replies, taking Shou’s stubborn hand off his face and rests his palm on the other fairly longer before letting go. “You choose though, it’s either I humiliate you by rooting for you in all your remaining rounds of alcohol or you go home.”
“You take him home Tora,” comes a smart suggestion from the far corner of the room. Surprised, we all turn at the source of it, his brown bangs is concealing the sincerity of his expression but I feel that it’s unimportant because the moment Tora has stepped in here, circumstances have already been decided.
Tora nods and says thank you as Shou tells us his apology. And even there, in those short phrases separately delivered, their simplicity is evident that it’s almost blinding me.
I accept, it is me, I am in love, certainly, for I don’t fail to discern how close they are as they stand up and walk skin on skin, friendly or more than friendly in their own ways. I am in love, definitely for I feel my heart jump with envy at how beautiful they are or how their backs appear like puzzles bound to be pieced together as they close the door behind them. I am envious, yes, but I don’t feel the ugly burn of it in my chest, and I don’t even care if it is unrequited. There is love that need not be sated and I claim it, so long as the two of them are happy, I’ll be…
“Saga?” I hear Nao call and I immediately leave my thoughts to concentrate, after all, they can wait.
“Cheers?” he then adds, placing a half-filled glass in my hand.
“For knowing,” Hiroto agrees, raising his own drink and taking the spot on the couch that the two have abandoned. “May the bastards realize that we aren’t idiots.”
We lightly knock our glasses together and laugh. We all take it flippantly, but I know, as I glimpse at their faces, all of us are just as in love.
-----
Endnotes: not my first time using an indirect person’s POV (just like it better this time). took longer than intended and full of mad representations. comments are huge <333s
Fanfic Archive