BLOOM [OHSHC]

Epilogue 1 - Promise

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"Need a hand with that, handsome?"

Startled, Kyoya Ootori dropped a box of books on his foot, jumping back from the familiar, lace-thin voice in his ear. With his hands on his knees while he collected himself, he took a deep breath and uttered a string of unbecoming curse words under his breath. "Michiyo Kimura, you will be the death of me one day," he murmured.

I bent down to put my perfect face in his view and beamed. "Not today, though!" Bouncing forward, I pecked Kyoya on the forehead before grabbing the box of books from his poor feet. I danced away into the depths of the apartment, placing the books near Kyoya's fancy desk, which was one of the few things already put together in our new place. When I left the office, I found Kyoya standing exactly where I left him: in the front entryway, surrounded by boxes.

After one more steadying breath, Kyoya stood and frowned at me. "Took you long enough to arrive, you inconsiderate heathen," he grumbled, picking up the next closest box—labeled 'kitchen utensils' in Kyoya's tidy handwriting—and making his way there.

"Oh I'm sorry, did I not keep to your delicate timetable, dearest?" I said, sliding after him and into the kitchen on fuzzy-socked feet. "There are hazards of having a sister on the spectrum, you know. And one of them is the daily reminder that time isn't real, so why not make time for mid-morning milkshakes, an impromptu screaming contest, and one more episode of Real Housewives of Wherever-the-Fuck?"

Displeased, Kyoya deposited the box of kitchen things on the granite countertop beside the fridge, propping his hands on his waist as he frowned at me. "Why you watch that drivel is beyond me," he said, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "There's no plot, and the drama is all scripted rubbish."

"Mei likes it," I said simply, "Makes her feel less... chaotic."

"Speaking of Mei," he asked to unsubtly change the topic away from garbage television, "How is she adjusting to the house?" Judging from the look on his face, Kyoya not-so-secretly hoped Mei was driving his parents absolutely insane.

I shrugged, trying to play the whole thing off. "Honestly, I think she sort of loves it. Your house is huge and built for sliding down banisters, reality TV marathons, and screaming at the top of your lungs, which are Mei's favorite things to do besides asking the staff for insane concoctions, like a pizza smoothie or sweet potato waffle fries with caramel and powdered sugar. Plus your parents chase after her all day every day, which is more parental attention than she's received in years. Oh, and your sister adores her, to no one's surprise."

Smiling to himself as he started unpacking the box of kitchen items, Kyoya muttered, "Pizza smoothie, hm?"

"It was super gross, trust me," I said, making a face that I hoped conveyed the true disgustingness of that experiment. She made me taste test it, and I wasn't sure my tongue would ever forget that terrifying flavor. I shivered just thinking about it. "Anyway, I don't think she's all that excited to move in with us. I regret to inform you that she might stay at your place forever."

"Oh dear, whatever shall we do?" Kyoya said with an excess of sarcasm. "My significant other and I alone in our own apartment? Who will be there to stop us from canoodling? Or... worse...?"

"Or worse?" I smirked, pulling him in at the waist and away from the box he so dutifully tried to unpack. "What could possibly be worse than canoodling?"

Kyoya's expression changed from something semi-irritated to something dark and flirty. He did that little head tilt that made me break out in full-body anticipatory goosebumps, his eyes dark as he glanced over me from bottom to top. My breath caught in my throat. He lifted my chin with his hand, forcing me to look him in the eyes.