Feel My Heart Beat

Memories

Soft light streamed faintly through the curtains, bathing the room in a warm but muted glow. It must have still been early for it was barely enough light to pierce the darkness of night. Asami took a deep breath in. He could faintly smell Akihito's shampoo, a clean scent with the hint of apples. He reflexively tightened his grip around his lover's waist, pulling him closer against his chest. He felt him shift in his sleep before snuggling closer still and settling back down. It had been a week since Akihito had come to stay in the penthouse with him while the threat was looming large after Kikkawa's exposure and then subsequent arrest. Even so it had proven surprisingly difficult to effectively discourage such actions against the photographer. A more effective option would have been to out Akihito as Asami's soulmate but very few people had caught on to that knowledge yet and while it be useful for the short term, it would potentially put more Akihito in greater danger from far more resourceful sources. It was going to become common knowledge in the underworld that Asami Ryuichi finally had a weakness but hopefully they could delay it enough that Team Takaba, as they were referring to themselves, would be functioning as a proper team, one cohesive unit by the time anyone made a move against his little lover.

He reached up and ran a hand gently through the blond locks tickling his chin. He didn't deserve Akihito, not by any means, but he'd be damned if he let anything happen to his feisty little soulmate. How many weeks had it been? He felt like he had been constantly struggling to remain with his head above the water with the whirlwind of new emotions and experiences. He didn't show his emotions in his expressions very much but Akihito constantly threatened to strip him of that ability. He had laughed more, talked more and felt more in these few weeks than in the last ten years. He had felt it even more acutely with Akihito staying the week. He had come home to a warm greeting and a home cooked meal for the last few nights. He felt a strange squeezing feeling in his chest every time that bright smile and shy 'welcome home' greeted him. Akihito had turned out to be a surprisingly good cook although he shouldn't be too surprised as Nariko had mentioned it when they visited as the driving force behind getting them to live together. He had set the though aside at the time and didn't think too much on it even when Akihito had first stayed over but after this week Asami was desperately fumbling for excuses to get his lover to stay. He couldn't even pinpoint what about having him around was so great exactly. His little soulmate playing housewife was certainly endearing and surprisingly attractive but it was more than that. More even than the considerable amount of extra bedroom time they got. Not that that wasn't a driving factor, Akihito had turned out to be astonishingly open and willing in the bedroom and their tastes just happened to match up in the most delicious way as he had told Akihito. No, there was more to it but Asami put it down to him being his soulmate. His romantic soulmate at that.

He tried to think if he had ever felt that squeezing feeling, that tightening of the chest before. Had he ever felt like that with her? He wasn't sure. He had buried those memories so deep in the blackness of his heart behind the haze alcohol and drugs that he struggled to remember anything distinct. Honestly he didn't want to think on it now. Never again in truth. No; the only thing he remembered feeling was pain. A ripping, tearing feeling as though his heart was being torn from his body while it was still beating. He tried to push the thoughts away, it wasn't worth wading through that pain again just for this, he had drowned in it in the past but hadn't thought of her since meeting his little angel of a soulmate. Unbidden the memories rose to mind. Everything was indistinct now, the passage of time and forceful attempts at forgetting blurring everything out but that one moment. He could visualise that in as sharp relief as though it had only been yesterday.

He could hear the muted bang; the sharp sound of glass shattering.

He could see the spray of blood red splattering out, too much. There was too much.