III.
They say that after the successful completion of any major undertaking, people experience an incredible spiritual uplift and a surge of positive emotions. Something like, "I did it, I'm a success," "I didn't give up halfway and saw it through," and other pleasant thoughts that vehemently stimulate the ego.
Perhaps somewhere deep down, I also felt something similar; at least, echoes of pride in my own stubbornness were definitely present. However, unfortunately, almost all the positive moments were overshadowed by sheer exhaustion.
I wanted only one thing—to simply lie flat in my room, locked inside, surrounded by particularly unhealthy fast food, and, for a time, become the most ardent adherent of hedonism.
Only to realize that tempting dream, I had to endure three more days before the weekend. And simultaneously finish the accursed progress report so it could be presented at the last annual meeting of the administration and the board of trustees. Maybe they'd give me a certificate or something...
Not that I needed one. Frankly, if I had the chance, I would send them on a long hike with all that paperwork.
Why? Why is it necessary? To participate, you need to fill out forms and accompanying documentation. To organize—tear yourself apart, but be good enough to compose reports for virtually every nail used.
Finished successfully? Good job, now write a beautiful three-page report in small font using bureaucratic language and don't forget to attach appendices. Seriously, maybe I should also design a forty-slide presentation for them on a specially provided template, the mere sight of which would turn any sane person inside out?!
— Hachiman, are you alive? — Feeling a poke on my shoulder, I winced, feeling an unbearable urge to curse, but, suppressing it, I slowly lifted my head from the desk, looking at Yuigahama.
— Do you need something? — I asked dryly in response.
— Not really, — Yui hid her hands behind her back, rocking from heel to toe. — I just wanted to know your plans for New Year's.
— Sleeping, — I answered curtly, massaging the bags under my eyes with my fingers.
— But what about going to the shrine on the first of January? Going out? — the girl stared at me.
— Komachi will handle that; I'm formally delegating the authority to her, — I blurted out the first thought that came to mind, not wanting to clutter my head with unnecessary reflection, as my current plans showed a proud emptiness.
— But you can't do that! — Yuigahama protested.
— I can do anything, and what I can't do—I can do that too, — I wondered if she genuinely didn't realize I wasn't eager to continue the dialogue, or if she was deliberately pretending not to notice.
— Oh, forget it, — sighing, Yuigahama waved her hand and, turning, returned to her friends, who had kept their eyes on us throughout our conversation. And if there was poorly concealed mockery clearly visible in the looks of Hayato and his cronies, Yumiko was looking at me with noticeable concern and a touch of guilt.
I'm willing to bet the Blonde genuinely believes that part of my fatigue and exhaustion is related to her, in the sense that I walk her home again and again. How this magically causes a negative impact is another question entirely.
Glancing at the clock, I sighed and got up. There were about forty minutes left until the start of class, and I didn't feel like spending the rest of my free time enjoying the surrounding din.
Theoretically, I could grab a bite; thankfully, my sister had prepared a bento, but I had no appetite.
Therefore, I'll follow my usual procedure—I'll find a quiet and peaceful place where no one will bother me. Hmm, is anyone in the student council room right now? In principle, there shouldn't be.
I toyed with the idea.
Well, it sounds tempting. Lock the door, collapse onto the couch, and take a nap. The main thing is not to fall asleep, otherwise I'll have to justify missing classes. Although, in fairness, they could give me some slack as a reward for the work I've done.
Having settled on a course of action, I immediately proceeded to execute it.
Fortunately, the student council room was indeed empty. Could fate be on my side for once in my life?
Closing the door behind me, I turned the key and, whistling contentedly, walked towards Atsuki and Miura's favorite spot.
Unbeknownst to herself, Yumiko had gotten into the habit of lounging there, waiting for me to finish my business. Of course, only when we were alone, which happened almost constantly.
A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
...I guess I spoke too soon about my luck.
Tilting my head back, I tried to decide whether to open it or ignore it, hoping that the unexpected guest would turn around and leave.
The knock was repeated, followed by a muffled voice:
— Hachiman, I know you're in there.
Speak of the devil, and the sun appears, I suppose?
Returning to the door, I opened it, coming face-to-face with the Blonde.
— Don't look at me like that, — the girl mumbled. — I know you wanted to be alone.
— So you decided to deprive me of the opportunity I just got? — I sighed, letting her inside.
Yumiko didn't answer, brazenly taking the spot I had already coveted. Shaking my head, I locked the door again.
— Locking us in alone? — Miura smirked, crossing her legs. — I didn't expect such initiative from you.
— I'm full of secrets, — putting the key in my pocket, I gave my classmate a weary look. — For example, I recently stumbled upon a video where I learned how to dispose of a body without leaving any traces.
Pushing her knees aside, I collapsed into the free space, leaning back against the sofa and letting out a quiet moan.
— You know, judging by your appearance, you're the one who will need to be dismembered, because you're the one who looks like a corpse out of the two of us, — my classmate remarked.
— A corpse in the style of an aristocratic vampire or a poorly resurrected zombie? — I yawned, covering my eyes with my elbow.
— The latter. You resemble a lover of drinking other people's blood in your usual state.
— I'll take that as a compliment.
— I don't want to disappoint you...
— Then don't, — I caught myself thinking that I felt surprisingly comfortable in the Blonde's presence. More accurately, I had noticed this fact much earlier, but now it felt particularly distinct for some reason.
I never thought I'd be casually exchanging witty remarks with the "Queen" of our class. Especially not this naturally.
— Did you have lunch today? — Yumiko unexpectedly inquired.
— No. I'm constantly full of problems as it is; there's no room left for actual food, — I tried to joke.
— Hikigaya, — the girl's tone took on a steely edge. — If you collapse from exhaustion, it will be your own fault.
— You underestimate my power, — the quote from the famous space opera was extremely fitting. — More likely, my heart will stop.
— ...Someone definitely shouldn't neglect sleep. Otherwise, your sense of humor takes on excessively dark shades, — Miura mumbled, most likely shaking her head in resignation.
— I fully support and wholeheartedly approve. You can officially submit a petition on behalf of the students; I'll bring it up for general review.
The Blonde sighed loudly, after which silence fell in the room, broken only by the vibration of my classmate's phone. She really loves to immerse herself in it—sometimes she stares at the screen for hours or texts someone. However, I wouldn't say that this portrays her in a negative light.
And, actually, come to think of it, Yumiko possesses an impressive number of positive qualities. Starting with her attractive appearance and ending with her sharp mind and ability to hold up almost any conversation. Plus, I like the way her sleeping face looks.
Ahem...
No, undeniably, sometimes the "Queen" is excessively temperamental, highly values social interactions, and cares too much about her own reputation.
But...
— Hey, Hachiman.
— Mmm?
— Can I ask you a personal question?
I grunted.
— Better to ask immediately than to lead up to it like that. It causes unhealthy suspicion, — you immediately think of something maximally strange and inappropriate.
— I'll keep that in mind, — Yumiko paused briefly. Kami, what suddenly caught her interest so sharply? It seems my understanding of the world and the people inhabiting it is about to be shaken again.
— Why aren't you dating anyone yet?
Slowly removing my arm from my face, I glanced at the girl, who was intently studying her fingers, looking anywhere but at me.
— Are you serious right now? — still trying to grasp the meaning of her words.
— Uh-huh.
— Um... — honestly, it wasn't that the question was overly strange or unsettling.
It's just that my brain automatically began to generate possible reasons for such a peculiar interest from my friend.
And the most plausible option caused certain personal difficulties.
— Because... I don't see the point? — to some extent, my answer was maximally close to the truth.
— And no one around you attracts you? — Yumiko's quiet question almost completely dispersed the remaining doubts.
I, of course, love to play the role of a "log," but it's quite difficult to ignore hints this direct.
The problem lies elsewhere...
Do I even want this?
On the one hand, the psychological traumas from middle school haven't gone anywhere; they've taken their niche in my personality, which is why there's always a factor of uncertainty in such situations. After all, human imagination sometimes produces truly insane things.
On the other hand—do I feel romantic interest in Yumiko?
There's definitely no bright infatuation or desire to sing serenades under her window. I'm not flushing with embarrassment, and I'm not going to start stammering and sweating while holding her hand.
Although a couple of wet dreams involving her have occurred, I won't hide it.
And, most importantly, I'm comfortable with her. We have things to talk about; her presence nearby doesn't cause discomfort. In my opinion, that's enough.
...Plus, we are seventeen years old, so we shouldn't take everything too seriously.
If it works out, it works out.
If not? Well, at least we'll gain experience for the future.
Having made a decision, I exhaled loudly and, reaching out, tapped my classmate's shoulder with my finger, getting her attention.
Waiting until she met my gaze, I tossed aside the remnants of my gnawing doubts and calmly asked:
— Yumiko, will you be my girlfriend?
— Eh-eh-eh?! — the Blonde's eyes widened in shock, her mouth slightly ajar. — Y-you...
— Was that too sudden? Or were you leading up to something else? — I clarified, trying to remain calm.
— No! I mean... yes! But... — completely flustered, Yumiko hid her face behind her palms, continuing to babble incoherently.
Massaging the bridge of my nose, I took her hands, pulling them apart.
Wow, I've never seen the Blonde so embarrassed. A reason to be proud.
— Decide: yes or no, — I pressed slightly.
— ...Yes, — the girl mumbled, looking at me with glistening eyes.
Right.
What should be done in such a case according to all the conventions of romantic stories?
Oh, right.
— Good girl! What a good girl! — Reaching out my hand, I stroked her head.
Judging by Miura's expression, she clearly expected something else.
— Hikigaya, — my classmate said unexpectedly calmly, shaking her head, thereby shaking off my hand.
— I'm listening, — I hoped I hadn't gone too far.
Taking a breath, Yumiko straightened up, about to express everything she thought of me, but, freezing, she exhaled and, moving closer, pressed her face into my chest, hiding it.
— You're such an idiot... — she muttered barely audibly.
Laughing, I hugged her shoulders, not intending to argue.
A true gentleman always knows when to keep silent.
IV.
— It's cold, — I grumbled, breathing on my frozen fingers.
— What stopped you from putting on gloves? — Yumiko conspicuously showed her hands, hidden under fur mittens.
I gave her an unreadable look.
— You wouldn't understand, — I replied laconically, not wanting to say that the main reason was that it was easier for me to hide my hands in my pockets than to put on something... ahem.
— Of course, of course, — Miura rolled her eyes, leaning against my arm. — What do I, a silly woman, know about your undeniable logic?
Snorting, I involuntarily straightened up, looking around the crowd gathered at the shrine with noticeable displeasure. I knew perfectly well it would be exactly like this, but I still agreed to the Blonde's suggestion.
Who in their right mind would come up with the idea of rushing out early in the morning to stand in the cold for a good hour to pray, paying tribute to old traditions? It's not that I'm specifically against it, but... why does it absolutely have to be on January first?
— Don't mind his grumbling, Yumi, — Komachi smiled, hugging my arm from the other side. — He went to bed under the morning, as usual, so he didn't get enough sleep. And you know how grumpy Big Brother gets in that state.
— Really? — Miura narrowed her eyes. — But he swore to me that he would go to sleep right after midnight.
My little sister merely scoffed mockingly, her entire appearance expressing disbelief at such naiveté on my classmate's part.
— I did go to bed, — I noted phlegmatically. — But I got nervous anticipating my first meeting of the year with my beloved girlfriend, which is why I tossed and turned all night.
Yumiko, blushing, lightly nudged me in the shoulder with her head, avoiding eye contact. Komachi, meanwhile, gave me a thumbs-up, mouthing: "Smooth save."
Of course. Even if you two brats managed to team up, it doesn't mean I can't put up any resistance to your pressure.
By the way, they got along surprisingly easily. I expected my sister to be slightly suspicious of her own brother's new girlfriend, of whom she had heard almost nothing.
However, going against all assumptions, at their first meeting, Komachi merely shrugged and peppered Yumiko with very personal questions. At least, that's what I think, since I wasn't able to witness the conversation—I was kicked out of the living room, citing the need for a "girls' talk."
Naturally, later, when we were alone, my little sister told me everything she thought about such unexpected news, but her "anger" lasted exactly until her favorite coffee with ice cream and chocolate chips.
In any case, my minor concerns that my sister might react negatively to the Blonde turned out to be unnecessary, which was a relief.
— Hey, Komachi, hi! — A girl's shout from somewhere behind us made me turn slightly.
Behind us stood a group of three girls. I think I've seen them a couple of times with my little sister. Friends?
Judging by the junior high student's gaze, she was openly torn between staying with us and rushing to her friends.
— Go on, run, — making the choice for her, I gently pushed Komachi in the back.
— Are you sure? — uncertainty lingered in her voice.
I sighed.
— Absolutely. Or do you think I'd be against being alone with my girlfriend? — Miura quietly snorted at my words but didn't say anything.
— Okay then, have fun! — Smiling happily, my sister hurried off to her friends, leaving Yumiko and me standing in line.
— You know, you voice your thoughts too directly, — the Blonde muttered once the girl had walked a sufficient distance away.
— Is that a bad thing? — I smirked.
Instead of answering, she took off her mitten and, putting her hand into my pocket, intertwined our fingers, pressing a little closer.
I'll take that as "no."
***
The worst thing about holiday weekends is that they tend to end at the most inconvenient moment. You just barely breathed a sigh of relief, felt like a living person again, and then—bam!—you have to jump back into the school or work routine.
Fortunately, at least there are no presidential assignments hanging over my head. If memory serves, the next date promising a considerable amount of hassle will be in mid-February. I'll have to bother with decorations, a couple of contests, and cobble together a small entertainment program on the fly. I wonder if anyone on the council can fully explain Valentine's Day or if I'll have to rely on internet guides?
However, I have Yumiko. I think she definitely won't mind participating in the organization of this event.
Hmm, can this be viewed as using official authority for personal gain? Or, conversely, personal relationships for official purposes?...
Actively fighting off an impending yawn, I wandered into the classroom, immediately wincing at the noise level in the room. All the classmates were broken up into groups, loudly discussing the past holidays and sharing news.
Catching sight of a familiar blonde head, I scratched my cheek.
Okay, did we say anything about publicizing our relationship? Although, considering how much time we spent practically holding hands on the street, I'm more than a hundred percent sure that someone must have noticed us, so rumors should have already spread.
Fine, no point in troubling my mind; I'll ask the Blonde myself later. For now, I'd better take a nap at my desk.
— Oh, Hachiman, hi! — Yuigahama exclaimed, noticing my appearance and waving her hand.
Sighing, I scratched out my previous plans.
— Yeah, yeah, — I greeted Yuigahama sluggishly, walking closer.
— By the way, Yukino and I are mad at you! — Yui crossed her arms, feigning displeasure.
— And for what reason this time? — I ignored the slightly displeased looks from Hayato and Tobe. Kami, guys, are you planning to radiate negativity in my presence until the end of high school or what?
— You ignored our invitation to hang out! — the girl blurted out.
Blinking, I tried to remember if the mentioned "invitation" was ever received.
Hmm, I think there was something like that.
— Didn't I text back? — I tilted my head.
— No! You read it and didn't reply at all! — now genuine indignation was seeping into her voice.
I frowned. I distinctly remember typing a text along the lines of: "busy, sorry, another time."
Not wanting to overthink it, I took out my new phone—which, by the way, I still hadn't gotten used to—and accessed my messages.
— Strange, — I muttered, not finding the desired message in the "sent" folder. — I definitely remember writing it...
— Are you already suffering from amnesia, Hikigaya? — Tobe scoffed mockingly.
Remaining silent, I gave him an unreadable look. A rather unflattering remark was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn't want to start the new year by escalating tensions.
— You didn't send it, — Yumiko said calmly, rocking back on the hind legs of her chair and fiddling with her own mobile. — At that moment, Kamakura knocked over a vase, and you rushed off to clean up the shards. It's probably lying in your drafts.
I held myself back from slapping my forehead.
— You asked me to remind you to send it then, — the girl added unfazed.
— And you didn't remind me? — Sighing, I scrolled through the folder and found the message. I really hadn't sent it. My mistake, I guess.
— I forgot, — Yumiko shrugged.
— In that case, I can only admit my guilt. I'm sorry, Yui, — I looked at Yuigahama.
But she didn't pay any attention to my words, staring with wide eyes at the Blonde, then at me. Was everyone else who involuntarily overheard our conversation in the same state?
— Um... Yumi, — Ebina cleared her throat, being the first to snap out of the shock. — Sorry, but are you and Hikigaya... a thing?
Miura, without taking her eyes off the screen, replied in the same calm tone:
— He's my boyfriend.
— What?! — Yui shrieked, practically jumping. — Hachiman, are you dating Yumiko?!
If there were any uninvolved people left in the class, there weren't after her shout.
I massaged the bridge of my nose, not particularly happy with the general attention.
— Yes, — I said curtly, glancing sideways at the lady of my heart.
She did that on purpose, right?
I absolutely cannot attribute such a trick with a phrase "casually" dropped in the most inconvenient context to her inattentiveness.
The Blonde is too perceptive in such matters.
— With Hikigaya? — Hayato grimaced, looking at the cause of the commotion with disapproval.
Okay, someone seems to have gotten confused.
— Do you have a problem with that? — I inquired, raising an eyebrow.
— What if I do? — the Captain responded defiantly, lifting his gaze and making eye contact with me.
— Then shove it where the sun doesn't shine, — I advised dryly.
— You!... — exactly what Hayato wanted to say remained a mystery, as the classroom door burst open loudly, letting in a breathless teacher, thereby preventing him from finishing his sentence.
Returning to my seat, I felt the Captain's angry glare on my back and scoffed.
It seems someone's ego just suffered a crushing blow.
***
I probably really am abusing my official position, brazenly using the student council room for personal purposes.
But what can I do if I'm comfortable here? There's always the opportunity to lock the door and not worry about outsiders. Especially when the other council members have already gone home.
— So why did you do it? — And there really is something appealing about this sofa.
— I felt like it, — Miura preferred to add comfort by using my arm as a pillow.
— Really?
— You don't believe me? — Yumiko furrowed her brows.
Smirking, I poked the girl's cheek with my finger, ignoring her indignant puffing.
— Are you saying you truly had no ulterior motives with your words? — I didn't hide the irony in my voice.
The news that the unsociable student council president and the "Queen" were in a relationship spread throughout the school in a matter of hours, raising the level of interest in my person to an unimaginable degree. As if they had nothing better to discuss. I don't understand why people love prying into other people's private lives so much.
Even Hiratsuka managed to snag an opportunity to tease me on the subject.
Definitely behavior worthy of a true teacher.
I won't even mention the barrage of questions that came from Yuigahama. And I still don't understand what exactly she feels about it: whether she's happy for us, or seething with anger that she found out this way.
The only person in my circle who seemed uninterested in what was happening was Yukinoshita. Although, nominally, we hadn't crossed paths since the break yet. Most likely, she would have certainly delivered a couple of sarcastic remarks, taking advantage of the opportunity.
— Well... maybe there was something? — Yumiko drawled evasively, turning her face away.
— Something? — I continued to press.
Rolling my eyes, I put my arm around her shoulders and leaned back against the sofa.
— Fine. I hope you're at least satisfied with the result? — I suppose I won't press too hard.
After all, it's not like I ever cared about the rumors swirling around.
Of course, Hayato is clearly burning with righteous anger, but I don't think he'll take any action towards me. He'll growl, spit, and wave his hand dismissively. Even if the Captain acts like an idiot sometimes, he still won't completely cross the line, or he risks not only his reputation but also his family's. And considering the hang-ups rich people have...
— I'm satisfied, — the Blonde mumbled, wrapping her arms around my torso and resting her head on my chest. — You're not too mad, are you?
— Not particularly, — I didn't think I would find anyone else whose hugs were as pleasant as Komachi's. — I've had worse.
— Really? — she asked surprisingly timidly, looking up at me.
— Really, really, — I exhaled and closed my eyes, feeling incredibly calm and just a little sleepy.
Reassured by the answer, the girl quieted down, but a minute later, she quietly giggled.
— Hey, Hachiman?
— Mmm?
— Could you have imagined that our relationship would reach this level? — she ran her finger across my stomach, tracing invisible circles.
I pondered the question.
A picture from six months ago flashed before my eyes, when I caught Miura in a rather compromising position with her rear end sticking out.
Ahem... well, I certainly had thoughts, but they were of a slightly different nature.
— If someone had told me this before summer break, I would have laughed in their face, — I answered honestly.
— Agreed, — Yumiko concurred. — Considering your attitude toward the people around you back then...
— I had a perfectly normal attitude, — I feigned slight displeasure in my voice.
— Oh really? Was that when you twice suggested that Yukinoshita and I calm down and stop "marking" territory? — Miura sarcastically clarified.
Recalling those instances, I snorted.
— You really looked like alpha females of a pride having a showdown over a bunch of bananas.
Miura froze, then slowly brought her palm to her face, sighing loudly.
— I often really want to hit you, — she said darkly, raising herself to eye level with me.
Looking into her olive-green eyes, I smiled, feeling no real threat.
— Have your sadistic tendencies awakened? — I automatically tucked a strand of her loose hair behind her shoulder.
— You interact with you, and you'll find things you didn't know about yourself, — the Blonde grumbled.
— My fault, and I don't promise to change, — I smirked.
— Idiot... — she playfully bumped her forehead against mine.
Instead of answering, I traced my fingers along her cheek and, leaning forward, gently kissed the girl, tasting the already slightly familiar honey flavor on her lips.
— Hey, — pulling back, Miura frowned sweetly. — Don't think...
Not letting her finish, I stifled her words with another kiss, while lifting her by the waist and lowering her onto the sofa, leaning over her.
— Hachiman! — Yumiko protested, much weaker this time, weakly hitting my shoulders with her palm.
A blush on her cheeks, disheveled blonde hair, and shining eyes.
A beautiful picture.
— You told me not to think, — I laughed.
— Yes, yes, — Miura wrapped her arms around my neck. — But did I say stop?
Letting out a short chuckle, I hastened to rectify the assumption.
A true gentleman never denies his beloved a small whim.
V.
There always comes a period in a relationship when the excessive romanticism gradually dulls and disappears. In the sense that certain aspects of communication and interaction between partners take on a conditionally mundane character.
For example, I can comfortably sprawl out on the bed in my loungewear, engrossed in another game, while my girlfriend, actively gesturing, paces around the room, recounting the twists and turns of her day. The main thing is to nod and agree at the right time, asking clarifying questions based on information I've already heard.
— And instead of explaining everything properly, she threw a tantrum at me... Hey, Hachiman, are you even listening? — fine, I admit, sometimes my established mechanism glitches.
— I can quote it word for word, — I sighed and, pausing the game, lifted my head.
The girl, sulking, stopped in the middle of the room, hands on her hips and drilling me with a slightly offended look. After my words, the creases between her eyebrows smoothed out a bit, but she couldn't completely shake off the distrust.
— Tell me honestly, you're absolutely not interested in listening to all this, are you? — she closed the distance and leaned over me, continuing to pout.
Considering the fact that the Blonde was wearing one of my T-shirts—clearly the wrong size!—that I had outgrown, I had a great view of her chest. Moreover, if my eyesight isn't failing me, someone decided to show off a strapless bra today.
— Reminder, my eyes are higher up, — Yumiko cleared her throat, noticing the vector of my interest.
I felt no embarrassment at being caught in the act. After all, I'm a healthy guy with normally functioning hormones. Especially since we're in a relationship, so I see nothing wrong with it. As the saying goes, if life gives you lemons, make lemonade.
— They are undoubtedly beautiful, but I admire them every day anyway. And missing such a view, I consider complete blasphemy, — I smirked and, finally overcoming my peculiar state of trance, closed my eyelids for a couple of seconds. — If you don't like it, then I suggest you stop 'borrowing' my clothes. Or do you think that the common male fetish for girls wearing their stretched-out T-shirts arose out of thin air?
— You guys are just weird, — Yumiko mumbled, completely forgetting her offense and falling onto the edge of the bed, resting her chin on my chest.
I wonder if she deliberately thrust her "assets" forward, giving me a much more piquant view, or if she did it purely for comfort? I've heard that many ladies not lacking in the bust area are often unhappy about it. Something about it hindering running, and their back aching...
— Why? — I tried to push the uninvited thoughts aside, pretending not to notice the tempting mole just above the edge of her bra cup. By the way, I was right—it was indeed strapless.
— What is so sexy and appealing about it? Won't you share the secret? — lately, she's gotten into the habit of constantly tracing my torso with her fingers. I wouldn't say I'm unhappy, but the effect it creates is slightly... ahem.
— Well, there are many factors. The most primitive one is: 'she's wearing mine—that means she's mine,' roughly speaking, reinforcing the element of attachment and 'possession,' — I caught her disheveled hair, gently running the golden locks between my fingers. — There's this whole thing where some people enjoy realizing that their partner is literally saturated with their scent.
— So, some guys think that a girl is 'marking' herself this way? — Yumiko raised an eyebrow, continuing to draw patterns on my T-shirt with her pinky finger.
— Something like that, — I exhaled loudly, trying to recall any suitable mantra for this situation.
— I see, — sighing, Miura tilted her head, pressing her cheek against my palm and rubbing against it like a cat.
Over time, I realized an amusing fact: the Blonde has an extremely positive attitude toward physical contact.
However, strictly with certain people, reacting extremely negatively to any attempts by the "unworthy" to cross the boundaries of her personal space. The slap she gave Tobe when he tried to grab her shoulder still warms my soul. Although, that was the best outcome for the guy.
Because I was in an extremely foul mood that day, so if I had intervened, a single red mark on his face wouldn't have been the end of it.
— Is that why you like it? — Yumiko broke the silence, narrowing her eyes.
— Not exactly... — I chuckled briefly, fighting the urge to trace a finger over her plump lips. — Here, the visual aspect plays a bigger role. Though, to be honest, everything looks good on you.
— That's a weak compliment, — yet her voice was brimming with pleasure at what she heard. Apparently, she's angling for seconds.
In principle, quite doable.
— I'd call it a dry statement of fact. Inventing pretty phrases to describe things everyone already knows is a sign of poor taste, — I said in a matter-of-fact tone, fully aware that I was indirectly contradicting myself.
And yet, I achieved the desired effect: Yumi smiled softly and, lifting herself up, gently kissed my cheekbone. After which, she brazenly sprawled on top of me, using me as a living body pillow and burning my neck with her breath.
I don't mind—who would in my place?—but the pressure in certain areas was causing a certain kind of discomfort, albeit a pleasant one.
— By the way, what are our plans for the evening? — as if unaware of the effect her actions were having, the Blonde carelessly inquired.
— None, — trying to detach myself from the "dangerous" sensations, I took a deep breath and exhaled. — We can watch a movie or something, if you want. Komachi is sleeping over at her friends' place tonight, so the whole living room is at our disposal. Or we could go for a walk.
— I don't want to walk, it's still cold outside, — Miura shivered, throwing her leg over me.
— Movie then? — Please, just stop wiggling.
— Don't want that either, I'd have to get out of bed for it, — Yumiko mumbled, finally finding a comfortable position and settling down.
— So what do you suggest then? — I asked resignedly, accepting my fate.
— No-thing, — the girl pronounced syllable by syllable, "nuzzling" my neck with her nose. — We'll just lie here until we get bored.
My eyelid involuntarily twitched at the prospects that opened up. I am undoubtedly known for my iron self-control, but even it has limits that I would rather not cross.
Or would I?
After all, what if Yumiko is slyly trying to push me towards active steps, taking our relationship to the next level? It's not just guys who have a libido; girls are also not lacking in the desires of the "flesh." She certainly wouldn't say something like that directly; rather, she would try to hint as clearly as possible.
However, relying on assumptions and guesses in such situations... is not a very smart idea.
And asking directly is a little embarrassing, because, whatever the opinion of others about me, I am still a teenager with zero experience in matters of love. I can't exactly copy characters from moldy hentai, right?
— What are you thinking about? — Miura sat up, looking into my eyes.
— Nonsense, don't worry about it, — I tried to change the subject, not wanting to reveal my less-than-"pure" thoughts.
— You're lying, — the Blonde smiled and poked my forehead with her finger. — When you get lost in thought, you get a little wrinkle right here.
My chest gave a noticeable lurch at the wave of cuteness that washed over me. It turns out it's extremely pleasant to have someone who notices even such small details. It makes you feel like you matter.
— It still doesn't change the fact that I was thinking about foolishness, — I grabbed her hand and, succumbing to the impulse, lightly kissed her fingers.
— What are you doing?... — the Blonde mumbled shyly, blushing and looking away.
— I felt like it, — I answered honestly.
Up to a certain point in my life, I genuinely believed that the romantic in my soul had long since kicked the bucket and turned into faded memories.
But the more time I spent with Yumiko, the more I realized I was wrong about that.
It's not that I suddenly wanted to shower the girl with rose petals, compose ballads, or draw her portraits. Everything was much more prosaic.
I was amused by how she got embarrassed, when her ears barely noticeably turned red, and a blush appeared on her cheeks. I liked her smile, with visible dimples and slightly narrowed eyes. Her indignation—with furrowed brows and pouting lips. Her clear laugh, especially the overly long one, after which the girl would hiccup amusingly. Her habit of constantly biting her lips whenever she got too engrossed in her phone or something else...
Looking at it this way, I had fully fallen in love with Yumiko over time. Not in a single rush where my chest would swell at one glance and all remnants of sanity would disappear, but rather—calmly, slowly. Studying her day by day, noticing small details and accepting them.
...Yeah, if I had heard my current thoughts a year ago, I would have died laughing.
— And you've drifted off again, — the Blonde complained, more out of habit, pulling me out of the whirlpool of my reflections.
— My bad, — I wrapped my arms around the girl's waist and, ignoring her surprised yelp, rolled her onto her side.
— You scared me! — Miura protested and, exhaling, added: — Are you still not going to tell me what you were thinking about?
— You guessed it, — I can't help myself; I enjoy teasing her over small things.
— Hachiman! — Yumiko pouted, lightly hitting my chest with her palm.
I involuntarily laughed at her reaction and, moving closer, whispered softly:
— I'll give you a hint, — and, not letting her reply, I kissed her, pulling her close by the waist. Pulling back after a few seconds, I asked in a playful tone: — Did you get it?
She shook her head negatively, looking at me with glistening eyes.
Catching her alluring lips again, I deepened the kiss, cupping her cheek with my palm.
The Blonde shivered all over, clutching my T-shirt tighter in her hands and timidly licking my upper lip with the tip of her tongue. At such a seemingly innocent action, something constricted inside me, making me freeze.
— Is something wrong? — Yumiko asked barely audibly.
— You know where this is going, right? — I asked back hoarsely, tracing my thumb across the girl's lips.
For the first time in my life, I was close to suffering a crushing defeat in the fight against raging hormones.
Instead of answering, Miura parted her lips and caught my finger with her teeth, gently clamping down on it, burning me with the gaze of her half-closed eyes.
I didn't need to know anything more.
***
— Did you know that a gentle touch of the lips to the fingers means strong sexual attraction? — Yumiko drawled, comfortably resting her blonde head on my shoulder.
— Nope, — I answered sluggishly, feeling a pleasant languor spreading through my body.
I just wanted to lie there blankly and blissfully stare at the ceiling, enjoying the warmth of the person I cared about next to me.
— And I thought you were giving me a hint, — Miura quietly snorted, "running" her fingers over my bare torso not covered by the blanket, like a child.
— You're one to talk, — I grumbled, burying my nose in the top of her head.
The girl, sensing my state, sighed and, wrapping her arm around my waist, shifted a little and quieted down.
After a couple of minutes, she was already quietly snoring, clearly exhausted after the eventful evening. However, I should probably follow her example, as I definitely won't find the strength for anything else.
...Speaking of which, I need to remember to look up the different meanings of kisses, since the Blonde seems to be knowledgeable about them.
After all, a true gentleman wouldn't miss an opportunity to pleasantly surprise his beloved woman.