"And the way you look at me sometimes with your eyes softened just a little, just enough so I know that you don't really hate me... and so I know that I did something right for once, like fetching you bread or bringing you a towel after practice."

Kousuke was not particularly good at making lists.

"And... the way you pretend to be annoyed by little things, the way you pretend to hate the fact that I'm taller than you even though I know you like it--it makes it easier for me to kiss you, right? And the way you make me kiss you... because that tells me that you really do feel something for me, and I know you want these things as much as I do..."

He was very good at rambling in an incomprehensible manner.

Luckily for him, Ryouko could make sense of his ramblings, and after sorting them out, found herself actually rather fond of what he said.

"You can stop."

"What?"

"You can stop," she repeated, gently, lacing her thin arms around his neck and standing on tiptoe (because he was, after all, taller than her, and she did like it, although she would not dare admit to this fact). "I didn't really want to know what makes you feel this way. I just... wanted to know that you felt it."

He blinked and his eyelashes brushed against hers, his glasses falling to the floor of his bedroom with two tiny clinks and a clatter. Neither moved to retrieve them; instead they shared a number of kisses, some soft, some hard. When they parted, Ryouko smiled and looked at him, and Kousuke laughed, gathering his words. "Like that."

"You really like the way I look at you?"

"Yes."

"Even when I'm angry?"

"It's all the same," he said, and even if it was a lie it no longer mattered.