Her blonde hair falls in waves, twinkling with starlight. It curls around her face as she smiles and your heart skips one beat, two, tripping and tumbling into her as your warmth overlaps, without any semblance of balance. She smells of little pink blossoms and fresh strawberries, and it fills your senses. You never know what sort of expression to make at times like this, sure your cheeks are heating up in tune with the color of her twinkling red eyes. Bow forgone, hair pulled loose, you lie tangled together in a dimly lit room. Moonlight filters in through the curtains and spills milky and pale across the sheets, dying everything your own color. Your breath catches in your throat.
"Mizuki-san?" Her fingers brush the fabric of your pajamas. You notice that her cheeks are dusted pink and you smile, gently. You raise her other hand, fingers intertwined and folded naturally into each other, and press a kiss into her skin. It's embarrassing and exciting in a way that makes your heart flutter in your chest, and you feel a bit shy. But neither your hand nor hers wavers, remaining in a steady hold.
"Ichigo." Your voice comes out softly, barely above a whisper. Her fingers on the loose part of your nightgown tighten, wrinkling it slightly, and your joined hands press into the pillow between you. Soft skin, chest tight, eyes fluttering butterfly kisses on flushed cheeks. Lips with a subtle taste of whipped cream, parfait? Tracing everything in the night sky on her back, rippling pink fabric.
"I love you."
