Had to write this. My brain wouldn't let me start my other drabbles until then.
Author: Lady Dusk -Raku-
Title: Bad Taste
Pairing: Midori x Ai
Warning: N/A
Summary: Ai has always said Midori had weird taste in drinks and flavors, but Midori doesn't think she minds.
Disclaimer: NO. I don't own it. Just rub more salt into the wound, you pricks.
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Bad Taste
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The first time Ai had told him, he'd panicked.
It meant that there was something that made them two, and not one. Sure, eventually he'd learn that such meager differences weren't that big of a deal, but back then in his naïve state of mind anything different between them was worth panic. He couldn't understand why Ai didn't see the meaning of just exactly what she'd said. It haunted him night and day, whenever he wasn't preoccupied. Sometimes even then, yet he couldn't bring himself to talk to his partner about it. As his other half she knew he felt disturbed by something, but also that he wasn't about to share. This was the only thing that kept her quiet, albeit reluctantly. Restlessness persisted for a week, until a day when Midori noticed.
"Ai." The violet haired fighter stirred, but didn't look up from her place on the steps. Midori put down his can of Green Tea Peppermint Mango, resting on the step beside his partner.
"Ai." He placed a hand on her shoulder. The fighter looked up, tears gathered at the corners of golden orbs. Orbs he was used (and rather preferred) to seeing cheerful, or at their fiercest in the midst of Spell Battles, said topic being partly the cause for her gloom. The cold from the unopened can in his remaining hand seeped into his fingertips. He locked eyes with her, grasping their attention with his presented can of her favorite soda, waving it.
A smile crept onto his face. "Don't worry about all that stuff Ritsu-sensei said. I don't care that we lost today's match, we lose and win all the time." Her ears flattened. He leaned closer, a hair's breath away. "There's no other fighter for me." Ears perked back up. "I only care about Breathless." He placed a kiss on her forehead, and drifted down to her lips in a chaste kiss.
Ai responded, pressing into the kiss and savoring it for the comfort it gave. It was short lived, leaving a tingle to her mouth as he leant back, handing her the canned drink and retrieving his own from the step behind them. Midori took a sip of his own, satisfied to hear the familiar seal cracking of a soda as the delicious flavor washed over his tongue.
"Midori?" She questioned.
"Yeah?"
"…Can we do that again?"
He turned to her. "Wha-" her mouth seized his, beyond the fairly chaste kisses they usually shared. She pressed lightly in earnest. Caught off guard, he gasped, giving her the chance to dart out a shy tongue before drawing back completely, flushed bright red. His own flush challenged hers. "Ai!" he gaped at her.
She merely giggled at him, his apparent shock the cure for her shyness. Seemingly innocent, she went back to her drink, looking for the all the world as if she hadn't done a thing.
Later, when he'd realized something about that day, he noted that she hadn't noticed what he had. The revelation was what made it all the more sweeter. Ai would be the only one to unknowingly chase off his fears without knowing the problem in the first place. That was just how it was.
The thought hadn't resurfaced for a long time, until doubt settled into his mind again, and he wanted to be sure. It became practice for him, then ritual, to test his theory whenever it came up. He'd wait until they went to bed, sneaking large tastes of one of his stashed drinks (they weren't allowed them at the school), while Ai took her time in the bathroom. He'd hide the can once she came out, kissing her thoroughly goodnight, which she returned with equal fervor.
His other half would drift off soundly, while he watched her sleep long after, dreamland always taking its time to come to him. He couldn't help but smirk, knowing what he always had. It seemed that despite all Ai's comments on how bad his choice of drinks were, she shared the same quirk for their taste, even if he was the indirect source for her to tolerate it. Still, it confirmed it.
And as he held his fighter close, one hand resting behind his head and sleep closing in, he couldn't help but to smugly admit he'd known.
They were the same.
-Owari-
Mmm, never knew I'd be writing this. I hope the message was conveyed clearly enough for you. If not, um well. -cough- Any who, wouldn't mind a review, specially now with school started, I'll need any things to cheer me up or push me to write as much as possible. But don't strain yourselves. I write to make myself better, not strive for compliments. :P Peace.
-LDR-