Mood.

Knowing that she took away Kanako’s speech for a moment, she smiled at leaned closer, standing on her toes trying to reach his ear, before whispering in a melodious voice:

“Good… morning.”

Bold of Kanako to assume he would be the only one toying with hearts today. In fact, now that there was nothing stopping her from going all out, why should she not use everything in her arsenal?

In shounen mangas, usually on the deadliest of fights the main characters gain a sense of clarity, where no doubt rests in their hearts. Though they are not fighting, for Ayane that level of clarity has already been achieved.

All the while Kanako was staggered getting two hits back to back.

Ayane took a step back, glancing the hunched over figure of him lazily hiding his face under his elbow. Not even trying, she removed his hand, reaching out to his cheeks, harnessing the fact that his skin was showing signs of color.

At that moment, she was unaware of what happened to her. His porcelain face was too smooth, too beautiful to not keep touching and racing her fingertips through it. From his face, down to his neck, feeling each of his lean muscles and veins to his nape, ruffling the back of his hair with both of her hands.

When she came to her senses or half, she found her arms wrapped around his neck, leaning closer than comfortable. But her mind dismissed that feeling, hypnotized by his eyes that were so close to hers.

She wondered if she could touch those pupils of his.

Nibbling her lip, she leaned even closer, forgetting the thundering of her heart. Their nose and forehead touched, and her grip around him tightened.

…Two arms crept up from her stomach, playing, dancing and swaying as they closed over until they interlocked behind her, caressing her spine.

‘Dangerous… mischievous… bad, this is bad!’

But, how could she stop, or make him stop for that matter? She didn’t know. She didn’t know how to stop herself, even.

One of her arm broke free, cradling his face and radiating a gentle warmth like the sunlight that tried to peek through the entrance. Her thumb ran over his soft cheekbone, playing with them.

That moment, she yearned for something. Something she couldn’t describe with words, or actions even.

His hands drifted upwards, now playing with her shoulder bones, making her lips curl up. Her peripheral vision caught his do the same, looking at her eyes with nothing but yearning as well.

“So, are we headed to school or staying here creating this mood that even the air can’t penetrate? Gosh I might suffocate here.”

…

As they walked through the roads, none said another word. But Kanako, for some reason, was rubbing his head in pain.