Obsession (Ayano x Budo)

Chapter 42

She's so beautiful.

She was almost like in his dreams - a fierce, calm, and destructive angel. Budo really didn't want her to have to take away the magnificent red sheen that cloaked her face like a cape of glory. But his angel was right. They had to reduce the amount of evidence from spreading around the house. 

Ayano peeled off her gloves and set them on the counter.She glanced at him from the mirror and his heart stuttered awake, and even when she looked down again, he couldn't calm himself again.

Behind the exhaustion lining his eyes, Budo stared, unblinking, as Ayano turned on the faucets and brought a cupful of cold water to her face. If she hadn't been before him for the last few hours, he probably would have collapsed long ago, but here she was, right now, the object of his dreams just a touch away. It was tantalising - the fact that she was so close and he wasn't allowed to touch her. For the last few hours, he'd been breathing in the indulgent, mind-blowing smell of heaven, only imagining what it would be like to close his mouth around its taste.

He watched in what felt like a hypnosis as Ayano carefully cleared the blood from her face, each splash dissolving away the mask of red. Finally, the last of it was gone, and when she lifted her head from the sink, she revealed a creamy-white face beneath that seemed to glow with health. All at once, Budo faced a conundrum: did he prefer it when she was covered with blood, or when he could see her innocent skin?

"I'm sorry. Look at your sink," he heard her say. It was difficult to comprehend the words. All Budo could hear was the melodic, soft and sincere sound coming from her throat, and all he could see were her perfect lips moving, her apologetic grey eyes looking at him, awaiting an answer-

"Don't worry about it," Budo said, having to jolt himself awake from his stupor. 

He looked at the sink to see what worried her, and saw that it had been stained pink from all the blood rushing down it. The image brought forth a sense of deja vu, but he focused and the feeling disappeared. The sink would be easy to clean because of its glossy surface, and she knew that, so why was she sorry? Was she feeling guilty? 

Budo gave her a quick look over. She'd washed her arms too, but the worst of it was on her jacket and jeans.

"I'll be right back," Budo reassured, and quickly jogged out the bathroom. Ayano waited patiently, and when he'd returned holding a plastic bag full of what looked like some spare clothes, she got the idea before he'd even had to open his mouth. She took the packet from his hands.

"Okay, I'll wait outside for you," Budo said.

Once he had left and closed the door behind himself, Ayano examined the contents of the bag. A large T-shirt and some equally large sweatpants. They would be way too big for her, but that was no surprise. Gingerly, she took each item out, brought them to her nose and sniffed. Clean, at least, which was good. She stripped silently, folding her bloodied clothes neatly and placing them in the plastic bag, which she closed with a tight knot.

Ayano set the plastic bag aside and began dressing. She slipped the shirt over her head, pleasantly surprised to find that it was soft, and that once the sweatpants were on, she found them thick and warm. Ayano looked at herself in the mirror and was relieved that she didn't look as awkward as she'd expected. If anything, she looked as if she were wearing some pyjamas.

Ayano opened the door once more and stepped outside. Budo, true to his words, was waiting for her. "Thanks for lending me your clothes."

"My pleasure," Budo returned, with all the sincerity as if it really were his pleasure. "I would've offered something better, but I hadn't accounted for this. I'm sorry."

"You hardly have any reason to apologise. So what are we going to do now?"

"You can get some sleep while I clean."

Ayano was already prepared to fight. "You need it more than me, so I should dispose of the evidence," she refuted logically.

Budo was happy that she was so considerate, that she would even think about his needs. But she was more important than him. "It should be my responsibility to make sure no evidence is around, since it's my house."

Ayano took a few seconds to process what he said, and then started to suspect something. Was he scared that she would frame him? There was no way to find out, but if that was the case, then she would have to understand.

"Alright, I submit," she sighed. "Shouldn't I just go home, then?"

She could have, easily. The only thing was that Budo didn't want her to leave. His mind raced for a reasonable excuse.

"The body" he stated. "When we go to school, I'll need you to take the bags to the incinerator. So you should stay here until I've finished cleaning up the body."

Ayano was becoming too tired to think twice about it. "If that's what's easiest for you, then okay."

Budo sensed this and hurriedly showed her the way to his bedroom. The door was already open, and the yellow hallway lights shone into the room with a candle-like warm glow. "Here."

Ayano stepped inside, recognising the arrangement of his room from when she'd hidden in it a few days ago. She noticed right away that he'd made the bed for her. All the corners were tucked in, all the pillows were fluffed, and, just from looking at it, it was very tempting to simply plomp down into the bed and close her eyes.

"What about you?" she asked with a yawn. "Are you going to sleep in your parent's room, then, when you're done?"

"Their door is locked, so I'll take the sofa. It's very comfortable."

Ayano recalled the layout of the lounge. That two-seater sofa didn't seem as if it would be large enough for anyone to sleep on, let alone accomodate someone of his build.

"No," Ayano said, "I'll sleep on the sofa. You sleep here. It's your bed after all."

Budo made an resolute face. "Please don't. If you did, I'd never live it down."

Ugh, boys. Well, I tried. It's his fault if he sleeps poorly tonight.

Ayano shrugged. "Fine, and thank you, but..." A threatening glare entered her eyes, and she looked like a bird of prey as she set them upon him. "If you get too tired, wake me up and I'll finish up for you."

Budo nodded, too awed to speak. 

Seeming content, her fierce expression was replaced by one of drowsiness. Ayano gave him a brief goodnight wave and climbed into the bed. She pulled the heavy covers over herself and faced away from him, her eyes steadily closing. When she heard the door close behind her, and the room was shut in darkness, she released a long sigh. With the bundle of covers around her shoulders, she soon fell asleep.

Budo waited outside of the door until he was certain that her breathing was coming in steady intervals, then turned off the hallway lights. Slowly, soundlessly, he reopened the door.