Mirai sleeps like a rock: hard and heavy and gracelessly sprawled out, her legs so tangled up in her bed sheets it is a wonder she'll be able to retract herself from them.

Despite the inelegance, Akihito is enamored by it. He is fascinated with the way her hair falls across her forehead, the little sounds she makes while she dreams, the deep and even lull of her chest as she breathes. His thumb is careful as he traces the line of her slackened jaw, gentle, because even though it would take more than that to wake her up, it is in these quiet moments when she sleeps that his gentleness consumes him.

Her eyelids flicker, seeing something he cannot fathom and he wants her to absorb him into her bloodstream. He wants to be a part of her, a weapon she can use to protect and provide for herself, something integral that contributes to her survival. To her, he wants to be everything she needs and everything she doesn't and his heart aches in his chest because he cares about her so much that his mouth tastes like her name.

She sighs in her sleep, and though their faces are nearly a foot apart he feels her breath, warm against his mouth. If he closes his eyes, he can almost taste her. His nose, sharpened by the youmu part of him, can smell the minty toothpaste still lingering in her mouth, the shampoo she'd lathered into her hair hours before, the smell of the cherry blossom lotion he watched her rub into her arms. She stirs and her foot taps against his ankle; he sucks in a breath, his thumb stilling along the line of her jaw.

He can't stop thinking about her mouth. How it frowns at him, how it forms her words, how it stutters when she's nervous or outraged, how perfectly shaped and maddeningly distracting it is. His tongue runs across his bottom lip, and then his thumb is there against her slightly parted mouth, pressing lightly.

Another noise resonates in her throat and he stares, fascinated by how supple her lips are, always so soft despite the hard way she presses them together in thought. His heart feels funny, his body weightless, and the only thing he can seem to form a coherent thought on involves many, many unsanctified ideas concerning the currently glasses-free beauty before him and the bed that they were lying in.

His hand almost trembles as he pulls it from her mouth and brushes his knuckles up the side of her face, trying to quench the rising thirst for by forcing his thoughts elsewhere. It is unavoidable and he thinks that if he resists for another moment he will die, so he scoots his head toward hers, his hand resting on her shoulder, and presses his mouth once to hers. He lingers for a moment and then reluctantly pulls away.

. . . .Only to find that he can't.

When he glances down between their bodies, he sees that her hands have moved to fist in the loose fabric of his T-shirt and her knuckles are white as she clenches onto him.

"Kuriyama?" he whispers tenderly, feeling a blush spread across his face at the prospect of being caught.

Her eyes remain closed, her voice rough with sleep, and it's the most beautiful sound in the world. "You pervert," she murmurs, too groggy to stutter. "Is there. . .some other creepy fetish. . .I should know about?"

He smothers a laugh and his hand lands on the expanse of her neck where he can feel her pulse strong and steady beneath his fingers. "My only other fetish is for clumsy Spirit World Warriors who can manipulate blood," he says, unashamed.

She reluctantly peels back an eyelid to glare balefully and sleepily at him. "How unpleasant."

He merely grins and touches the corner of her perfect mouth. "I couldn't help myself," he tells her honestly. "You looked so cute."

She sighs loudly and rolls onto her back, pulling him so that he is laying on top of her, supporting his weight with his forearms on either side of her head. "I'm not even wearing my glasses," she says, grumpy. He knows better than to believe her sour attitude has anything to do with him; she simply hates the entire world when she first wakes and he finds it endearing more often than he does frustrating.

He shakes with mirth and nearly vibrates with the electricity that seems to pulse under his skin, his gaze hot on her still bleary face. She wraps one of her sheet-tangled-legs around his calf. "Your glasses only intensify how perfect you are, Kuriyama. You don't need them to be cute."

Pleasure rushes through him as her face fills with color. No matter how long they've known each other, he can still manage to fluster her as much as she flusters him. Without hesitation, he leans down and presses his mouth right between her eyebrows, brushing her bangs out of her face completely.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asks indignantly, her tiny hands running along his sides in a slow, suspenseful motion. He shudders and watches as a smile spreads across her face; she knows how she affects him, revels in it, and he lets her. "Kanbara."

He'll never get used to that. His name from her mouth. That perfect, perfect mouth. "You were being cute again," he tells her with a bright smile.

She rolls her eyes as her hands find the hem of his t-shirt and slide underneath it. His muscles tighten in anticipation as she touches his skin, hot because she makes his blood boil and his head is so full of her clean hair and minty mouth that even though he is pressed to her fully, he still aches to be closer.

"Mirai," he says. She stills under him completely, hearing the shift in his voice. His hand caresses the side of her face and she presses against it subconsciously, her breath a shudder as his thumb runs along her bottom lip. "I was made for you," he tells her softly as she smolders him with her honey-colored eyes. "I was made to be here for you."

Her blush deepens and she looks away from the intensity of his eyes to stare at his shoulder. "Don't say such ridiculous things."

He smiles a bit and leans down his nose skimming against her cheekbone as he kisses her ear. "If you want me to leave, I will ," he murmurs, cherishing the way she trembles under him, how her hands fist in his shirt to pull him tighter against her.

"You're dumb," she mutters breathlessly as he cranes his face down to kiss the corner of her jaw, "if you think I'm going to let you leave." The true meaning behind her words swirls in his head and he kisses her finally and fully. His mouth presses square over hers with something close a sickly sweet ache that fills him to his fingertips. She gasps a little, just like she does every time they kiss, and her hands slide up his chest - only inches from hers - to tangle in his ruffled bed hair.

Her knees open wider and he settles against her more firmly, sighing into her mouth, tasting her and twisting his hands into her soft, pale hair. His heart pounds furiously against his chest and while he is in dire need of air, he thinks it is more detrimental to his health to be parted from her.

"Akihito," she mumbles and her voice caresses his name with such reverence that his heart stops. He hates this, he loves this, he wants this, he needs this.

How dare you, he thinks in a daze as he kisses her more fervently, his hands tilting her head as his mouth parts against hers. How dare you say my name that way. As if his head and heart aren't already bursting with her, as if every cell in his body didn't already crave her.

She responds to his eagerness with desperation and when she tears away to get a breath, she gasps so loudly that her face reddens. "I'm-"

"One more," he whispers, his voice rough as he consumes her mouth again and she meets him with unbridled impatience. Her perpetually cold hands dive back under his shirt, pressing against his heated skin as she yanks it up, stroking the muscles that coil under her touch. He pulls away for a second, only a second, so that she can whip his shirt off over his head. Once that's done, she's kissing him and rolling him over so that she is straddling his waist.

"Akihito," she says again and he quivers, her lips pressing their way down the length of his neck.

He swallows thickly, his hands finding the swell of her hips as she shifts her weight against him. "You're driving me crazy," he breathes out unevenly.

She fixes him with a decidedly playful look as she sits back on his stomach, her hands pressed to his bare chest. "Now you know how it feels," she says matter-of-factly. "Always teasing me and pissing me off and then kissing me up against a wall like some kind of animal." She sticks her tongue out at him.

He almost groans, but manages to send a weakened smirk her way. "Can't help myself."

She nods. "That's why you are a pervert, Kanbara-senpai."

A grin flashes across his face. "Excuse me, but which one of us pulled my shirt off?"

Her finger presses to his lips. "Don't be so unpleasant. Which one of us kissed me awake in the middle of the night?"

His grin softens to a smile, warm and radiant and he watches her sway slightly above him, her hair a tangled mess, lips red and swollen. She looks gorgeous, he thinks, and his heart swells because his hands know every inch of her skin, his head filled with her secrets. She is the mirror in his bathroom, his twin, his better half and she is everything.

She sighs and rubs at her eyes. "I'm so tired."

"Then go to sleep."

"You aren't going to kiss me again, are you?"

He sits up abruptly, pulling her mouth to his in a short, quick kiss that tells her everything he can't seem to say. "No," he mumbles as he pecks her mouth again. And again. And again.

She groans as she winds her arms around his neck and clings to him, her chest flush against his as she melts into his embrace. "Senpai, please," she replies, her lips flattened against his.

"Alright," he mutters pulling away and looking at her flushed face before frowning. "Nope; one more."

"Mmph!" she exclaims as he kisses her again. "You've already used that one tonight!"

"Can't help myself," he murmurs. Another kiss.

"Find a new catchphrase," she replies. "That one is creepy."

He laughs against her mouth. "I love you." She rips away from him and he grins at the utter shock on her face. It's the first time he's said it, but she knows. He knows that she knows, however, it appears that saying it out loud has astonished her into speechlessness so he decides to elaborate. "That's my new catchphrase. I love you."