PIGS CAN FLY —

THE SUN ROSE FROM THE WEST —

Because I wrote a sweet fluff for LenKu and not my usual angst/tragedy/deaths.

I thought I wouldn't be able to do it but I did~ (surprisingly)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

The Ferris Wheel moves slowly, inching their cabin slowly to the top and Len stares outside the window, heart beating too fast for his liking and cheeks too hot (crap, crap, crap, why is he so timid today). The petite girl next to him (he still can't quite get the word 'girlfriend' out of his lips, the mere thought sends tingles up his spine and heats his cheeks) shuffles her feet quietly, and then her silky hair brushes against his hand and her hand follows soon after. Len stiffens and can literally feel heat radiating off every fiber of his being (and he begs that his cheeks aren't red, because that's totally not suave) and when her soft, small hand clasps and tightens shyly around his, Len thinks that he might die of a heart attack.

Apparently he doesn't, though, so he squeezes back with his larger hand (her hand is so small, so soft, so fragile that Len is afraid that he might break her if he squeezes too hard) and covers up his blush with the back of his other hand. They stay like this for quite some time, and Len takes notice of her breathing because he has nothing else to do (not because he can't bear to look at her directly, dammit!).

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

Her other hand comes up to tug at his shirt (her hand is still linked with his, don't blush, don't blush, don't blush) and the fabrics twists in her tight grip while she ever-so-slowly leans her head against his shoulder, and Len lets out a breath when her head finally settles on his left shoulder. A gasp when her hair tickles his neck, and then she's bolted up again, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. Len turns to look at her, to tell her it's alright, you can lean on me, when she looks up at him with those doe-like eyes of hers and a irresistibly cute expression, and suddenly he feels like he can't breathe; she turns her eyes away, a blush rising up her cheeks that she fights and fails to keep.

"You're making me want to eat you up, you know," Len remarks, trying to tell the blush that is inching up his neck to stay down, and Miku blushes even fiercer, her grassy eyes widening when she realizes what he's just said. It's not really my fault, she wants to argue, like she did when they were still childhood friends, not this - this relationship that they have right now. The air in the cabin smothers her, and she can't help but peek up at the boy — man sitting beside her.

He's changed so much, from the time she first met him, when he was shorter than her and younger than her, when she would tease him (much to his chagrin). Now he's still younger than her, still not as mature as her (she can see from the way he tries not to blush, and she nearly laughs), but...taller. Taller by half a head, Miku had realized one day when she has to look up at him, instead of down like she usually did. It makes her feel weird. It's like...the little boy she took care of had grown, grown into this...unrecognizable, ravishing young man.

And then she stares at his lips (because from his shoulder she has a perfect view, aha) and suddenly wonders how they taste like. Maybe they'll taste like the fruit he always ate, maybe...her thought process cuts off when he suddenly turns his head to look at her, and Miku blushes at the distance between their lips.

And is it just her, or is the distance shortening? Her mind short-circuits as she hitches her breath, waiting.

And then he kisses her quickly – it's unlike anything she's experienced before. It's a burst of stars and confetti behind her eyes and he tastes like heady cinnamon (Miku's always liked the spice, and she decides that maybe she'll ditch eating cinnamon for kissing him) and fresh mint all mixed together in a sultry manner — she feels her legs going weak and clutches his shirt harder just so that she can stay focused — and then their noses bump and sounds of "ow"s come from the metal cabin as they separate, and Miku laughs at the defeated expression on his face, poking his cheek.

Len pouts but says nothing; he still remembers her lips (they're so soft and pliable, and she tastes like citrus and grape candy, and maybe he'll start liking the smell and taste of citruses, too) and blushes when Miku starts tracing circles in his open palm, grinning all the time, and decides that maybe next time, he won't rush to kiss her.

(she belongs to him, after all, so he's got a lot of time on his hands)

Truth time!

I actually died after writing this because it was too cute and I blame my very vivid imagination, you know.

Reviews and constructive criticism appreciated!