Two hearts

The warmth of skin, two hearts...

The Ending fades, the picture does, too. I still love that ending song, though I heard it seven times in a row now. I love it because it makes me think of you, it describes how I feel about you. Still, I am lost in the world of Yoru and Ran... I was so happy as they finally had their night together...
Lost in thoughts and dreams, I let myself fall against the back of the couch, smiling slightly. My ponytail gets caught between me and the cushions, I pull it out and let it fall over the back of the couch.
Your rising kinda startles me. You were sitting right next to me all the time we were watching Sukisho, and my heart screams Don’t leave! the instance you rise, since I know you still got another appointment today, but you just go over to the computer to turn on some music.
I scramble back to life and off the couch, my chest heavy with the all-too-familiar pain I always feel in your presence, lingering beneath the luck and sheer joy of seeing you. This pain, this uncried tears you mustn’t ever see or notice. Because of that, I turn my face away, letting my hair obscure it, while I collect the dishes from our meal to take them back to the kitchen.
You look at me, seemingly surprised I’m not speaking. Hell, I forgot you’re used to my usual quirky, energetic self, and that you’ve come to assume something’s wrong if I keep that silent. You just know me too well..
I take the dishes to your kitchen, nevertheless. As I come back, you say : “I’m going to get us the rest of that juice”.
Since I still need a reason to bustle around, to avoid looking at your face, I quickly grab the glass decanter and murmur: “I will do that” in response. You laugh and say “Don’t be silly. What’s the use of your behavior?” I just shrug and set off for the kitchen again, but, since this is your place, I fail to find the well-hidden light switch.
You come in after me, taking the decanter from me and shooshing me out of the kitchen. I obey, as always, with a murmur of respect. You take that for a joke, too, do you? But it isn’t, I respect you more than anyone else, even than myself, and if fooling around and addressing you with great respect is the only way I can show it to you, so be it.
You don’t order me around intentionally, I feel, but I jokingly obey every “order” you throw at me, announcing me my master when we are alone. It always makes you smirk or laugh, and partly I am keeping this up to entertain you. Even entertainment is a form of art, and if I can entertain another artist, then why not do it?
This also is a part of how I see myself, the joking one who always tries to cheer you up, who hides her pain to make you or others feel better, the one that is hardly ever seen serious. It’s a kind of mask, I think... A mask to hide my feelings behind, my troubles, the fact that I’m not always cheerful, too. Usually, my cheeky behavior is too easy to keep up, but sometimes I fail in doing so. Like when I’m sad, like when I’m lovesick. Like now.
You show me where the light switch is, after throwing a remark about me being a foolish blockhead in my direction. Your long-fingered, fine sculpted hands reach into the refrigerator and pull out a packet of mango juice, pouring its contest into the glass decanter.

I precede you into the living room, where I settle myself on the couch again. You pour both of us a generous measure of that juice before seating yourself on the chair near to the computer, from where you can choose and change the music without great effort.
I sip on my juice, setting the glass on the table near the couch after half-emptying it. A peaceful music starts to play, and suddenly I feel how much all this holding back my tears and the long day have exhausted me. Lying on my back on the couch, ponytail falling over the side of it, one arm covering my eyes, I give in to the music. But even now, I forbid myself to cry. You would instantly notice, and I couldn’t tell you why I was crying, that you are causing this pain in my chest, my... heart.
The music calms me, and I drift off into a trance-like state, half-sleeping. One calm tune after another, each one pushing me closer to the verge of tears. But I know, once I begin to cry, I will reduce myself to a flood of tears, hopeless, pained, for the one I love will never love me back, not in this way. You will never love me as I love you. And that’s the reason why I’ll never tell you. Hell, I don’t want to lose you, at all cost. Even if I have to break my own heart, pretending we are just friends. Even if I have to spend nearly all my energy to hold back my tears every time we are together.
One day, this feelings will be gone, anyway. Eternity doesn’t exist, the only thing that’s eternal in this world is death. Not even art is eternal.

The tune chances to a quicker pace as one more song begins to play. I hardly notice in my half-trance state. Only with you, I let myself get that off-guard. Though energetic and cheerful to the point of being obnoxious nearly all the time, I came to expect worst of the world at very young age. It’s strange, though – that I shall get off-guard  in the presence of the one, the only person I want to and will protect with all my life, at all cost. You’re not going to get away, you took me as a prisoner, became my Dana long ago, and now you’ve got to cope with me. Even in danger. Even in death.

Suddenly, I feel your hands tugging at me, getting me up from the couch.
“I want to dance. Come!”
Seemingly unaffected from all the peaceful music from before, you tug me to my feet, an energetic, joyful smile on your face, your red hair flying round that face I love so much.
Trying to shrug off my dizziness from being pulled off the couch and out of my trance so quickly, I struggle to keep pace with you. You still hold both my hands in your own, and I fasten my grip, not wanting to let go of yours. Not ever wanting to let go. Not ever being able to let go.
Slowly, I get more into the rhythm and your pace, and we dance wildly, hands locked, fingers intertwined. As we get closer and closer to each other, our chests start to touch. I’m startled, mesmerized, yet filled to the brim with joy in our wild dance that still is getting us closer to each other. I can smell the fragrance of your hair, your body, that smell I came to identify as definitely yours, and I’m sure you can smell me too.
My heart is singing with joy and aching with pain at the same time. Our dance, this tune is so intense, I feel like I’m going to burst from the emotion.
Then, all of sudden, it ends. You let out a musical cry, or are you singing along? I can’t tell. This whole dance was like a bang, the song surely WAS a bang, true art in the way it made us dance, touched me, filled me up with emotion.
You stagger, and I catch you round the waist as you stumble, the song is over, and you are dizzy. “Are you okay?”, I ask anxiously. I never saw you stumble or getting dizzy before. “Only dizzy. Is this okay?”, you answer, referring to me still holding you, pressing you closely to me to keep us both balanced. “Yes, perfectly”, I say.
You stumble to the couch, and I let you down on it, regretting to have to let go of you. We were so close, and I savored it that much...
I sit down beside you, exhausted, from our dance, my uncried tears and love for you still tearing at my heart. I must’ve inclined my face in a strange way, or let off a sound, or it was because of my silence, or something else, I can’t tell, but you turn to me and draw me into a hug, with my head resting against your chest that still is heaving from the dance. “What’s wrong?”, you ask, stroking my hair, sweeping bangs of it off my face.
“Nothing... I just... I’m just... un...” I’m short of an answer, unable to think of one, unable to think at all. I close my eyes, savoring the joy of being that near to you, and it wasn’t even my own doing, you drew me close to you, I never would have dared...
Your fragrance is all around me now, I breathe it in deeply. Mysteriously, I can hear your heart beat, and it makes me shiver. Now, so close to you, so close to my dream, I shiver as I realize how we are sitting there, you having me leaning against you, hugging me closely, stroking my head, my hair, and me, half-lying on the couch, my watering eyes closed. It’s holding back my tears with all my force that shakes my whole body, I don’t want to cry now, I don’t want you to notice what’s going on inside of me, I don’t want you to retreat, not now, not ever.
“You’re shivering..”, you say, questioningly. “Un.. am I..?”, I ask, not daring to say more, for I don’t trust my voice any more.
“You are...” You resume the stroking of my hair, and I gather all my strength once more and make my body stop shivering by pure force of will. “Still?”, I ask. “No...”, you say.
Relieved, I stay where I am, eyes closing again, my heart filled with happiness as it is changing is pace to synchronize with yours. I know that this is more than you ever gave to me, more than you probably will give to me, and maybe it’s the only time you give this much to me. I have no right to request more, to long for things you can’t give me. No rights at all. But me having given my heart to you gives me the right to savior this touch, this closeness. As my mind drifts off to a deeper relaxation as I had in years, a last thought shots through my mind. This is all I need,  I don’t need more, this is enough. Enough to satisfy my love, my hunger for you. If only I could stay there forever and listen to your heartbeat...