Disclaimer: I do not own Noragami.

001./ all you are to me

She is soft skin and warmer lips, the smell of plum blossoms and soap—dark hair, sleek and thin, against pale shoulders. A heartbeat, thrumming against his fingertips, as he brushes his hand against the skin of her neck, fingers curling around her nape.

(She is a gentle smile; a swish of a cat's tail; a hand in his own; a push at his back; a nagging in his ear; a flush against his skin.)

Her eyelashes flutter, and she looks at him, irises pink and dark.

He leans in—in—

—and in the quiet of the dark, his heartbeat matches her own.