Mastermind | Chuuya Nakahara.

FORTY-SEVEN.

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CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN:
A momentary ceasefire.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Aki wasn't sure when it had happened, but at some point, they had moved from the floor and made their way to the couch. Aki was beneath Chuuya, her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling the lower half of his body into her. Chuuya had one of his elbows leaning against the cushions, propping himself up, the other clutching her face tightly as he kissed her. The blanket they'd had over them had fallen down by his feet, only covering his calves but it didn't matter, neither of them were cold anymore.

Chuuya pulled away from her lips, moving his mouth down her cheek and to her neck, peppering her with sweet kisses, "Say you love me." He whispered against her skin, needing to hear it again. His entire body ached to hear it—his soul was screaming for it. Each time she spoke those three words, he could feel parts of his internal wounds being healed. It was as if he was a child, hearing those words for the first time in his life. He couldn't get enough of it.

Aki tangled her fingers through his damp hair, pulling him closer, "I love you." She told him on command—but it didn't have to be an order for her to say it. She would say it whenever she felt like it from that moment forward. Anytime she felt the need to express those words, she would do it.

"Fuck," Chuuya breathed into her neck before pulling back, his hand cradling her face. "I love you so much." He confessed before capturing her lips in his, making her grip tighten on his hair.

Somehow, she found the strength to pull her fingers out of his soft hair to trail down his spine over his sweater before reaching the hem. She gave it a tug, telling him what she wanted without words. He managed to remove his lips from hers to sit back, grabbing his sweater with one hand, pulling it over his head before discarding it on the floor. Aki's lips parted, taking in the cuts and bruises on his chest—cuts and bruises she had inflicted. She sat herself up from beneath him, rubbing her palms across his skin, making him shiver. She traced her fingertips above the horizontal gash on his chest she had cut with the glass, partly feeling guilty. But they had both seriously hurt each other in that moment of madness—and it was something they would never do again.

She leaned forward, kissing just above the wound before taking his hands in hers. She trailed them across her chest, letting his palm feel the curve of her breasts before lowering them to her stomach. Knowing what she was getting at, his fingers gripped the material of his sweater—which had looked so fucking good on her. He yanked it over her head, her hair spilling out around her bare shoulders as he tossed it to the side. It was his turn to look at the damage that had been done. She had bruises more than anything, especially around her ribcage. He swallowed hard. He promised himself they could be as big of monsters as they wanted to be—but never to each other ever again.

He kissed her, their lips connecting with small gasps leaving their lips. His hands moved around her back, feeling jagged spots where her back was cut before he unhooked her bra, allowing it to fall down her arms and chest before she tossed it away. It landed a little dangerously close to the fire, but neither of them paid it any attention. He pushed her back gently, making her back land against the pillows, her hair engulfing them. He picked up a strand, dancing it through his fingers as she stared at him, watching the glazed look in his eyes.

"Everything about you is perfect. So fucking perfect." He told her, dropping the hair onto her chest before his hands moved to her hips, grabbing a fistful of the material of the pyjama bottoms. She lifted herself, allowing him to pull them down her legs, adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor. He then pulled down his sweatpants and boxers in one go—or what was supposed to be one go. They got caught on his ankles, making it hard for him to get off.