Mariko’s cheeks went on fire at Fu’s suggestion. Both fit?
Her eyes ran at him with a look full of disbelief, as if wondering if she actually heard it right. But Fu was smiling at her, albeit shyly, and upon seeing that smile, Mariko’s heart started racing again.
Could it be?! Could it be that, after all, her hopes did have a reason to exist? That maybe she hadn’t completely misinterpreted Fu’s signals, that all he had said and done did mean what she always dreamt it meant? That he had looked at her the same way she had been secretly looking at him for what, at least over a year by now, and she had only just realised it?!
Could it be that luck was actually smiling at her, for once?
That mere possibility was enough to steal Mariko a hesitant, embarrassed smile; it was brief, only a hint, because she was still too shaken by the shock of that offer to even keep herself from stammering.
“B-But I don’t… I mean, the floor is okay, I mean–!” Fu’s patting on the mattress almost sent her shrieking of emarrassment. “W-Wouldn’t it be uncomfortable–?” By Kais – what was she doing?! Jeopardising such an occasion out of embarrassment?! Shut up! She urged herself. This is your chance! Don’t throw it away!
“O-Okay then,” she peeped, looking down at the blanket she was still holding and taking in a quick, nervous breath. “That… That’s fine.”
She wasn’t sure how she got herself to stand up, her legs still shaking, just to stiffly plop on the bed, next to Fu. Each movement was awkward, made her self-conscious of the light pajama she was wearing, of how narrow the matterss suddenly felt, of how broad Fu’s shoulders suddenly seemed – and that last one almost made her heart jump in her throat.
“W-Water?!” She exclaimed, still refusing to look at Fu. “I-I think I need water. For the night. In case I’m thirsty. You need some water too? I’ll get you some water too!”
She jumped down the bed, almost tripping on the improvised bed on the floow while she hurried towards the kitchen. She took two glasses and filled both of them with tap water, the glass strikingly cold against her palm. Her whole body burned as if she got a sudden fever. Fu had just suggested they’d sleep in the same bed. Fu had just suggested they’d sleep int he same bed. This was way beyond what she hoped for that night. Did she have to expect more or–?!
A sudden splash on her fingers made her realise she was overfilling one of the two glasses. She chocked a curse and hurried to close the tap, wiping the hand dry on her shorts before returning back towards the bed. The sight of Fu sitting in it was so surreal she thought she needed a pinc to make sure it wasn’t one of her… Emabrrassing dreams, and her face began steaming once more.
“I, uh, got the water,” she muttered idiotically. She shook her head and placed the glasses on the shelf above the bed before awkwardly sneaking back under the blankets, hurrying to pull the duvet to cover her bare legs. “Just, uh… Just tell me if you need me to pass one,” she stammered, offering Fu the edge of the duvet, still unable to look at him in the eyes.
The slightest of stiffens in his shoulders, in his cheeks--the way she takes it, reacts to it, did he just offer something much more that he wasn’t aware of--?
His expression, body languages doesn’t shift much from its awkward form, if at all; internally, he feels suffocated, like he’s stuck in place and his lungs are full of concrete when Mariko approaches the first time--what was so weird about this? Why was she making this so weird? Sharing a bed, he just offered to share a bed, didn’t he?
“--W,” He mumbles dumbly as she springs up, “Wat--Okay--?” A dumbfounded blink, and he takes a deep breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, like a binding had just uncinched itself from his ribs. He feels the dispersal and static-like fuzz of peripheral thoughts jumping around his brain; he can’t put together anything coherent, because that would imply he has any idea what to do in this situation, any idea what to say. It’s--rare, to say the least, that he feels so--stupified.
And here she comes, again, and that weight in his chest builds back up all at once.
How much of this is his own fault? He thinks--What’s his own fault? That Mariko--expects these things of him? How much obvious shit had he missed leading up to this point? How much more obvious shit is he putting out there without even realizing? He--He clears his throat, and--and chuckles! Meekly, but still chuckles, and waves--waves a hand of dismissal at the duvet, and looks from her hand, to his feet, to the wall, shrugs his shoulders, clears his throat more quietly, quickly this time and shakes his head, “Ah--N-Nah, thanks, I don’t--I move--I kick around a lot when I sleep, I hardly--Uh,” He flaps his arms in vague, circular motions, trying to find words where they fail him, and he--eventually presses himself back into a pillow, a soft clear of the throat a third time, and waves his hands again. “--I can never keep a blanket, so save it for you--! I’d pr--usually just overheat anyway. You know?” And--stiffly--folds his arms over his chest.
... Reaall comfortable and totally natural move, he remarks at himself with a mental roll of his eyes. There’s something about that--about that obvious awkardness in his own frame, that for a moment, he has a small burst of inspiration--and with that, it takes only a second or two, but he suddenly shifts over onto his side, and--and he looks at Mariko, looks at her eyes even if she darts hers away from his.
“I--L-Listen, Mariko,” He begins, with just the barest hints of determination. He--He still doesn’t know what if offered, if he offered anything more with this--whole situation they’d found themselves in--but frankly, either way, he’s sure he can’t just say nothing. Though the determination dwindles quickly as he shortly pauses--he still manages, still murmurs..
“... Thanks, again. For everything. I--...” He catches, his eyes fall to the corner of a pillow, sincerity ever a weakpoint. “.. I know I keep saying it.. And I don’t want it to.. lose it’s meaning or something, but-...”
He presses his lips together. And he--pulls his frame up, propped up by an arm and uses the other to sweep over Mariko’s shoulders, suddenly pulls himself to her; it’s a weird laying-down sort-of hug, but--he hopes she gets the idea, all the same.
And reclines back after a second, looking toward the ceiling with a huff, curls of hair falling over his face floating in the updraft.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you! And all that.. You know?” He finishes, trying to interject an even-slightly-more light-hearted tone into the thick fog of uncertainty that he feels all around him. He--tosses her a half-smile.
“Uh--. Good--Good night, and stuff. I hope I don’t--kick you too bad or anything, heh,”
