Summary: He should've gotten used to it by now but because it's her, he can't. Oh well, it's not like its a bad thing.

Once a compilation but I think it's better to be separated... I have reasons but it'd just bore you. Let's just say it's for my sanity. lol

all along

There, he felt. She was doing it again.

He pursed his lips, willing his body not to move like it wasn't stiff enough already. He took a glance at his companion, sitting beside him, lounging just as he in front of the TV in one Sunday afternoon. Unlike him, she seemed intent to focus only on watching the movie they agreed on, one of the Disney classic, Lion King. It wasn't his favorite but it'd do if he could get to relax like this with her. Heck, he would chose this anytime rather than facing mountain of workloads. And it was going well, he was immersed... until she started distracting him.

Stifling a sigh, he watched her, noted the way she was leaning on him, hands casually placed on his shoulders. Nothing was out of place in that. But he felt it earlier, her fingertips moving upwards from the back of his neck, crawling ever so slowly to the top just to drag it down before it reached the mess he calls hair, repeating the same grueling task in an agonizing cycle over and over again.

It was taking his all to stop himself from shivering, letting out an embarrassing set of words or worse noises that will probably stop her from doing this ever again. And he doesn't like that, no. The mere thought that she would never do this again made him tighten his hold on her waist, pulling her closer to him. This woman would be the death of him, he swore if she continued doing that.

When he caught a shadow of a smile pass her face, his brows shot up. Her gaze didn't move from her on the television so he decided that something funny just happened. A scene with Timon and Pumba perhaps?

But it wasn't the case. Wildebeest stampede was just around the corner. She couldn't possibly be taking sweet satisfaction from that, is she?

He kept in a sigh yet again, thankful at the same time disappointed that she stopped the actions her hands took. He glued his eyes to the television, seeing but not comprehending, he'd seen the movie a couple of times anyway. So naturally, his eyes drooped. Content at the knowledge that she wouldn't get mad if she catch him spacing out. Most of those who knew him already got used at that side of him so it wasn't new.

And why would she? When she was the one who remarked that his quirks were a part of his charm... or something like that. He sure was delighted to hear that, his worries of her getting tired of him went away in a flash.

If he remembered correctly, she mentioned that years ago. Where she found him sleeping cutely—that was what she said—and chose to let him rest.

=•=•=•=•=•=

He kept on yawning, and he felt bad. Here he was stumbling on the simple task of getting a glass of water while she, the one slept later than him, still went out of her way to wake up early to prepare food. For him! Because he didn't get to eat last night, she said.

If he were to blame anything, he would blame the papers on his desk. He finished working on it all night. But he did it on his own accord, because he knew that if he didn't submit it on that day, they would continue to pester him even on the weekend. Talk about abuse.

He didn't even notice that he blacked out shortly after slouching on the couch.

When he finally came to, the first thing he saw besides the blinding light was her face. Right then and there, he could come up with several cheesy lines on how she looked like an angel. But he wouldn't let those words flow out. He was not that stupid.

She was eyeing her closely, occasionally looking down. It made him wonder if she was angry. He slept on her (not in the way he would've liked) when they planned to spend the day together. Either cuddling on the couch or walking their dog to the park. But he hadn't done any of those so he thought that she would scold him for it.

He opened his mouth to apologize but stopped when she put a finger on her mouth, understanding her gesture, he chose to remain silent.

He frowned, sending a silent question. And seeing that it was ignored, he moved backwards, reclining on the armrest to sit more comfortably. He tried to pull her to sit on the other side but she refused to budge.

Using her other hand, she raised the object on her lap. "Ta-daa," she said as she showed a new sketch of him—sleeping on their couch—except for the drooling part.

"Hey, give it here." He reached out a hand, aiming to pry the sketchbook off her hands.

She stuck out a tongue as she cradled the sketchbook in her chest, protecting it from his attempts. "Nope. You'll destroy it."

If he really did hate that drawing, he would've pulled it out from her hold with all his strength but he couldn't risk the chance of getting slapped after touching an untouchable territory (at that time, at least) even though it seemed worth it. He also doesn't want to ruin her beloved sketchbook unless he wanted to risk getting on her bad side. "I won't. I'll just keep it away from you, forever."

"What's wrong with it? It looks adorable," she said as she licked her thumb. Just to put it on his left cheek, close to his lips, to rub the dried remains of his drool. He thought that it was just an exaggeration so he didn't bother to wipe it on his own. She giggled when she saw him lower his face. It was his habit to prevent others from seeing him embarrassed.

He just tugged on the paper on her hands to make her forget what happened just a moment ago. "Naminé," he sulked when she still continued to laugh at him.

She then raised her hands to cup his cheeks, caressing it in a tender way that made him close his eyes. He would've leaned his head to her forehead when she spoke, pulling his face closer to look clearly into his bright blue eyes. "Don't worry. I already told you that I like every part of you." He shook his head with a smile. "I still haven't?" she faked a gasp. "Well, now you know that I accept every part of you."

"Even when I'm angry? You know I can be quite..." He grimaced, not liking the words he would say next but it was what they said about him. And it was true. "Insane." The bitter expression on his face was erased when she rubbed their noses together.

"Even when you're angry," she repeated with a smile.

"Then what about–" he started to ask again but she hushed him.

"I've always thought that your quirks are adorable. So stop worrying over nothing. You can't please everyone so don't mind them. Just know that I'm not gonna leave you." Her eyes, ever the piercing one, bored into his, deeply as if seeing all that was inside his head. "Okay?"

He breathed a sigh, the corner of his lips tugged up in a smile. It did seem like she can read him like a book from the start and learning about each other for the time they're together only made her level up that skill. He doesn't mind if it was her. Well yeah, he was irked at first but he got used to it. He got used to her.

And he returned the look she gave to him, trying to convey that emotion without words, he closed the distance between them. She hummed in what he'd like to call as delight when he went deeper than the usual times they'd kissed. It was a dance they both enjoyed but then she did something that made him almost lose control—pulled on his hair. It was the thing that he couldn't get used to. Out of his own accord, he bit on her lip—an act to contain himself—which made the grip she has on him tighter. Her, pulling him closer made it harder to resist groaning so he did and she rose from her place to sit on his lap...

=•=•=•=•=•=

Okay stop! That's enough reminiscing, his logical part screamed. The events after that had left him bewildered. Who knew how long it took for them to separate.

What he was feeling at the moment was identical to that time so his mind just whirred. Yes, they were cuddling at the same couch. Although unlike the past, it was now officially theirs.

Notably, he didn't saw that sketch ever again. Naminé was a person who was really good at hiding something, unless confronted. It was obvious to know when she was lying, and somehow the answer would be blurted out continuously without effort once encouraged.

Well, he did not bother himself to find it just to take her happiness away. He doesn't intend to do that intentionally if he ever had the chance to. After all, despite what he'd said, it was a great drawing. Or maybe he was biased, all the things she drew was always amazing in his eyes.

With a smile at that memory, he shut his eyes close to think of anything that could possibly tune out the feeling of her fingers as they caressed his scalp... Huh? Wait a minute, when did she...? He was sure that she was just barely passing her hands on it earlier. So that's why I'm getting goose bumps, he thought. Not purely because pf the memory.

Seriously though, he was having that reaction not because he didn't want it, didn't like it. It was actually the opposite, he absolutely loved the feeling but the effects it gave him especially after that one particular night was... not really pure. Well sure, the action was innocent but his mind surely wasn't. A certain organ of his got a mind on its own, he couldn't help it if he ever wanted to.

You see, they just gave each other at the last night of their honeymoon. Yes, he did and still regretted not making a move on her at the first or second day but hey! He was a nervous wreck. Sure they already had a heavy make out sessions—like what happened on his flashback—but the thought that she might not like what he would do scared him away. He knew that it was foolish right now. No need to scold him again for it. He on his own berated himself for it.

Can you believe how she was the one who acted first? Instead of him, her husband, the one who was supposedly wearing pants on their relationship?

He heard a voice that uttered his name, like the usual was she did every time she called him. It was innocent but his mind flickered a memory of what they did that one night, when she spoke his name in that way, like she was struggling for air, which she probably was because he was.

He shook his head, to remove the image off his mind. Not noticing that Naminé really did call for him.

He was too busy wondering why he was still not used to it. You would think he'd be, after all, she seemed to like doing it when they were together.

Thinking about it now, even the first time they had met, their talk suddenly shifted to his hair.

But he knew for a fact that hers was much softer than his. He could still remember the feel of it in his arms as he cradled her head, trying to lessen her pain, willing himself not to move and wait for her signal to go and she...ugh. He shouldn't make this harder (literally?) for himself.

Anyway, he met her thanks to his distant relative who was also happened to be his friend. A good friend indeed that left her in his care to hang out with his red-haired girlfriend.

=•=•=•=•=•=

"She's not my…" Sora stopped protesting when he saw the you're-not-gonna-say-this-excuse-to-me-again look from him. "She'll come here in a few. I gotta go!" Then the spiky brunet was gone, leaving him alone waiting for someone who he doesn't know.

It was not his job to tour some... Was it a boy or girl? He didn't know. He didn't get the chance to ask his hyper cousin and he didn't really paid attention to what the other had said. And frankly, he just wanted to get this over with so he could go back in his friend's hang out place and have fun. He was too shocked to protest when he was grabbed on his way at the plaza. So he simply sat on the bench nearby and watched as the clouds passed by. Nothing really beats the beauty of sunset, he thought.

He immediately turned his head when he felt someone sit beside him. And what he found was a delicate looking girl, holding some kind of notebook in her hands—he wasn't sure what to call it at that time.

It took a while before he realized that she was reciprocating his gaze, he raised his hand to rub his nape. "Uh," he awkwardly muttered. He was not sure why but he felt rather uneasy.

"You're Roxas right?" His eyes widened but he managed to nod in confirmation. "So… Is that a thing on your blood?" she asked before pointing up.

He was confused for a second or minute, what is she talking abou– oh right, before recognition passed through him. She must've been the one Sora forced him to accompany. And even an idiot would know that she already knew Sora so she would definitely come up with that kind of question like the rest of the people who met the two cousins.

Her expression was thoughtful before her eyes widened to a horrified looking one like a monster on his back was about to eat him. "I'm sorry. I'm asking out of the line questions again. You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

He chuckled, "Nah, it's okay. Many already asked that. Hmm, I guess spikes do run in our veins." At that moment, the faces of his relatives who have spiky hair passed through his mind.

She giggled, relieved that he didn't got offended. "Figures. Oh but yours is kinda spikier than Sora's."

"Well, his hair is all over the place while mine just mostly points up." He shrugged, his lips quirking up in a smile at the look of wonder in her face.

They settled for a few moments in silence. He noticed that she wasn't abashed on eyeing him so he also did the same. And boy, she sure is a sight for someone who's just wearing a plain white dress, he thought.

He stiffened when she raised a hand, only to brush the right side of his head—where most of his spikes resides. Normally, he would recoiled immediately as soon as he felt it but...

"There," she muttered, "So it's soft too huh."

He noted the way her eyes darted to lock with his, suddenly, her face became showed obvious hints of embarrassment. She tried to cover it up by backing away. Obviously mortified at the thought of scaring a prospect friend.

"I-I just... It was hiding your eyes so..." she tried to explain as she fiddled with her hands.

He smiled, "It's okay." It really was. This girl's kind of... weird, in a good way. He should've gotten creeped out but he just felt oddly at ease. Then he remembered that he still didn't know the blonde's name. But before he could ask, she recovered and faced him again.

"My name is Naminé." Smiling gently as she extended her hand to his. "Nice to finally meet you, Roxas," she continued when he grasped it in his.

She had that look in her eyes that left him confused. "Likewise."

=•=•=•=•=•=

With a tap on his chest, all he was reminiscing about faded but instead of darkness he saw a light.

"I already called you several times, you know," she said, never taking off the hand that was on his chest, probably feeling the beating of his heart. As usual.

He released a sheepish smile, rubbing his free hand to his eyes. "Oh is that so. Well, I'm just…"

Naminé hummed in reply, urging him to continue.

"Did I fall asleep?" he finally asked.

She faced him with a twinkle in her eyes, amusement. "A little and you're still out of it. What're you thinking about?"

Before he could think of an answer, he intensely felt the tips of her hand on the back of his neck, dragging their way up to his scalp with that infuriating pace, a move to massage his head but instead of making him relax, it made him feel... different. He released a groan as her hand gripped his hair lightly, he couldn't contain it anymore. The drowsiness helped a little to relieve his tension but waking up gave him courage, snapped his control.

"Naminé," he whispered as a warning, before he does something she might not want. Even he, himself was kinda shocked on how he sounded so... hoarse.

The said woman moved to face him with her lips curled up as she hummed in reply. She pressed her fingertips like she was playing piano on his chest, while the other continued its ministrations on his head at a slower pace.

He inhaled a deep breath before saying, "Stop that." His arm though, curled on her waist, urging her closer. The traitor.

Whether she noticed the contradictions in his actions, she didn't mention it. She continued to smile, but he could detect a hint of pride in her voice. "Stop what?" Naminé asked, her tone taunting as she kept doing the movements in her hands.

He pulled her even more closer to him, chest to chest, hugging her. "That."

"What's that? Roxas. I won't understand if you don't tell it to me." That was a lie. She definitely knew what he was talking about but she found that teasing him was really, really fun.

In his hazy mind, he didn't notice the mischievous tone in her sentence. With a curse, he gave in to his desire, did what his instinct was telling him to do. To taste her.

So he buried his head on her neck, licking on the place he remembered as sensitive before lightly biting it. She yelped in surprise, her hand grabbing his shoulders, making him stay where he was, continue worrying her skin as warmth filled his chest.

He snapped out of it when he registered the sound of her voice, freezing in guilt. One of his hands was obviously on their way to his wife's left breast while the other was holding her arching back.

"I-I'm..." he stopped trying to speak, and released a breath in an effort to make himself calm. He wanted to apologize but why would he do that if he didn't regret that.

He averted her questioning gaze, he went as far as to move away from her but... her hands and even legs were locking him in place. He didn't even realized that he had pushed her down. That was a solid proof that he would really lose it if she kept on doing things like those to him.

"Hey, why did you stop?" she finally voiced out her confusion. He couldn't help but notice the tone of her voice. It was the one that made his insides jump. "It's been a while since the last time," she whispered, then took the chance to make him face her. Never mind that that last time was also the first time they did it for each other. Well, all the way that is.

Wait? So she's been doing that all this week because she wants to... He gulped. Well, shit. Talk about lost chances.

She began to run her fingers on his now heavily messy hair again, added with her other that was now on his back, going down ever so slowly that soothed his tense muscles up until it went to his behind. He jolted in shock and surprise, looking at her with wide eyes.

She giggled at his reaction. "Well?" she asked looking at him with lowered eyelids.

He pecked her lips and sighed in relief, amusement, and happiness, "You should've just asked. It was torture, you know."

"Where's the fun in that?" she beamed at him. "But please... this time... try not to hold back okay? I won't break," she whispered in his ear, even with the hot red color painted on her face, she still had the courage to say that. It didn't went unnoticed that she also grabbed his hand only to place it atop her chest. He admired her even more for having that strength to be forward, especially because he can feel the way her heart pounded in her chest.

He swore that he won't... he can't even if he try, maybe until he got back at her for all those teasings. Can you really believe that? She purposely kept doing that to rile him up. And now that he was aware of it, he would make sure to do his best for her, like what a good husband should do to make her stay.

And with that thought in mind, he decides to continue making Naminé's wish come true. Kissing her passionately as he can, hands exploring her body once again in a slow and agonizing way just to make her scream his name. The movie forgotten as he started to tease her body, it remained paused while they savour the feeling of each other's bodies. He smiles devilishly when he heard her utter his name, frustration swimming in her voice as she tugged his spikes.

Payback time.

notes: To be honest, it's because I can't stand reading some of it. And by some, I mean this. What was I thinking. hahaha

06/06/17