Alphabet

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

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Allowed

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She rested a rosy cheek on his shoulder, accepting the coffee from his hands. Every one of her fingers warmed from the touch and she brought it to her lips to take a sip. "Thank you, Ryoma-kun."

Ryoma stiffened, then relaxed beside her. They were sitting in the park together, bodies pressed against each other in the cold winter afternoon. "It's no big deal." He said casually, kicking white snow with his tennis shoe.

She giggled, scooting over closer on the bench they shared. "I can't believe it's snowing. Finally. I've been waiting forever."

"Hm."

"And it's almost Christmas too! I have so many postcards and presents to make."

"Yup."

Sakuno watched his unreadable expression and smiled, the corners of her lips lifting. She pressed her furry mitten against his nose, tweaking it.

"Hey!" Ryoma protested, sliding away.

Sakuno laughed, her face flushing and the sound filling the air and drifting towards the sky. "You need to talk more."

Ryoma pulled the brim of his cap down, speaking over the street cars. "There's nothing to talk about."

"What about Christmas? Is your brother coming home for the holidays?"

"Che."

Sakuno fiddled with her braid. "Or- or how about your birthday? It's on Christmas Eve. Are you excited about turning thirteen?"

"Not really."

"Well, what about – what about presents? What do you want this year?"

"I don't know."

Sakuno frowned, the sunlight making her eyes glow. Her mitten-clad hands clenched and unclenched. "Ryoma-kun…" her voice was a whisper. She leaned in, her breath tasting like homemade cookies against his ear. "What do you want to talk about, then?"

He swallowed thickly. "Uh…"

She looked at him expectantly. He pulled his cap down further. Her lips looked so soft and plush and kissable up close – he could feel tingles running through his body, desire creeping in his throat.

"Do I have to talk to you?"

Sakuno titled her head. "What do you mean-"

Ryoma interrupted her, his words melting in the air like snowflakes. "Am I – am I allowed to kiss you?"

His voice was low, his hands trembling.

Sakuno giggled as a snowflake landed on her nose.

"You don't need permission, Ryoma-kun. You're always allowed."

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