note: this is a future fic and both are currently attending university (or again, in ai’s case)
-
the sun is beating a steady drum on her exposed arms as she leans back into the bench, ankles crossed languidly. she’s got a book out, flipped open in her lap, but with the spine facing her it might be problematic comprehending any of the lines. she closes her eyes for a moment, sun rays covering her eyelids like a warm childhood blanket, and opens them as soon as a soft giggle reaches her ears. she smiles unconsciously and doesn’t close the book (but she does turn it around, the pages almost luminescent in the brightness of the sun).
ayumi has her hair up in a lazy bun, runaway strands framing the crinkles of her eyes, as her lips pull up into a radiant smile.
ai bites her lips, this time around trying to suppress the unwitting smile trying to take over her facial features. she looks away, a hopeless attempt at hiding how utterly gone she is, and when she looks back, ayumi is smiling straight at her, not seeing the wave the retreating figure of her classmate is sending her way.
“hey,” ayumi says, once she’s in front of her, and when she leans forward to kiss her on the cheek, her hair tickles the corner of ai’s mouth and she catches the faint aroma of a multitude of artificial flavors.
she hums in contentment and answers “hey yourself,” and when she doesn’t get up, ayumi’s eyebrows do in her place. instead of giving in, though, the other girl merrily pops another bubble, adjusts the strap of her backpack and fixes her with half lidded eyes, sparkling with amusement. ai simply mirrors her expression, flipping to the next page without breaking eye contact.
“interesting passage?”
“mhm,” ai utters, softly, the sound a tickle in her throat. at that, ayumi rolls her eyes, the fond way her lips pull upwards betraying the action. another bubble pops and ai’s eyes immediately zoom in before she even realizes why.
“you know,” ayumi begins “i’m sure that-,” she flips the book over “-franz kafka’s biography is the most interesting book in the existence of humankind, but i also got the ingredients for your favorite curry this morning, so, you know-” she stops, suddenly, the sound of her breath hitching marking the end of her monologue.
because ai has involuntarily leaned forward, lips pressing against the corner of ayumi’s mouth, teeth nibbling and tongue leaving a tiny wet spot behind. she moves onto her lips, presses them quickly against ayumi’s, then stands up in a fluid movement, her messenger bag already slung over her shoulder. she takes two steps before she turns back to the still frozen ayumi. “coming?”, she says, not even trying to hide the amused tilt of her voice. when ayumi faces her she’s chewing on something, sticking out her tongue, faint markings of baby blue already visible.
“you had something stuck in the corner of your mouth,” ai explains, shrugging her shoulders. ayumi bumps their hips together
“so is that one of your hidden talents, rescuing fair maidens from bad, bad pieces of gum stuck in unfavorable places? like reading books upside down?”
the blush on ai’s cheeks is definitely just ayumi’s imagination (but if it wasn’t, it would look lovely combined with the blue of the gum).
