My Love - nijishii (F)

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Nijika is not one for romantics. She's not one for roses and chocolate and stolen kisses, not one for the sweeter side. Which is crazy, because Shiori is everything sweet and gorgeous about the world in the most perfect package. And god, how Nijika loves Shiori.

She sits on the practice room floor, watching Shiori twirl and leap into oblivion. Nijika takes note of how short her leotard is, how smooth and long her legs are, and how totally, utterly incredible she looks with the air rushing through her hair.

Nijika is a different kind of graceful. Shiori is like a butterfly, and the tiniest flutter of her wings can lead to a crashing tsunami months away. Nijika is strong and fiery, she wants to spread her arms far and wide and carry Shiori to a new world of their own choosing, one where she will feel beautiful and be nothing but happy.

The human body contains 78 organs. Five are vital, there is 4.7 liters of blood coursing through their veins, one brain, one heart.. But Nijika thinks Shiori is above blood and grit and rusty joints. Shiori is an angel, and Nijika does not deserve her. Their love is hard, but it is good, and so, so sweet. It is the sort of trust and power that can only be obtained through throes of dedication and honest words, to which Nijika has spent many nights devoting to and promises to for as long as Shiori will have her.

"How was that?"

Melodic. Her voice is a long, never ending piano tune that envelopes the oblivion of Nijika's insecurity and paints everything blank or maybe full of color.

"Perfect, like always."

Shiori laughs, a little breathlessly, she shakes her head and rolls her eyes and drives Nijika crazy.

"Don't lie to me, Ishimori Nijika,We both know that my leg wasn't turned out for half of my last run through."

Nijika shrugs, leather jacket heavy against her shoulders.

"Maybe it just looked good because you make everything seem perfect."

Shiori raises an eyebrow but blushes nonetheless, a little flush at the tops of her cheeks. The line which she sits, next to Nijika, reading a book, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear- is slightly hunched, like the curve of her back, the base of her spine, the round of her shoulders which ascends into the ethereal beauty of her eyes, nose, lips..

"You're my kind of perfect."

Nijika breaks into a coughing fit, because goddamnit Sato shiori called her perfect and she will never get tired of hearing her say that.

Shiori is the green in the leaves, the blue of the sky, the white in the cotton sheets they lay on in the dead of night.

"Jesus Christ, you're gonna give me a heart attack someday."

Shiori laughs and her eyes crinkle up at the corners, and Nijika wonders why she's laughing because she isn't even funny, but it's absolutely perfect because Shiori looks best with a giggle tumbling from her lips and a few tendrils of hair falling in her eyes.

She gasps and places a dramatic hand over her chest, and the sight of her like that is enough to make Nijika bite her lip and fight back a swoon.

"What will I do without you? Beautiful, talented stoner girlfriends who give half-assed dance reviews don't grow on trees."

Nijika lets out a barrage of laughter and jumps to her feet, sweeping Shiori off the ground and twirling her in a circle- "What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Shiori is the sun."

Nijika sets Shiori down gently in a fit of giggles and soft caresses, treating her as if she's afraid she'll break.

"Correction: Beautiful, talented stoner girlfriends who give half-assed dance reviews and have the ability to spontaneously quote Shakespeare don't grow on trees." Nijika smiles, bright and open-mouthed- her voice comes out as just above a whisper and she reaches her hands out to wrap around Shiori's waist.

"Just kiss me already."

And then their lips are slanted together, Shiori tastes vaguely of perspiration and cherry lip gloss, Nijika tastes of desire and admiration, and the two of them wonder exactly how that's possible.

Shioris's lips are so soft, and they always make Nijika feel like she's kissing rose petals. Nijika's are slightly chapped, though charming and tempting in their own right.
They separate and the moments of intimacy are more than enough to fill the space between them.

"Come on, let's get out of here. "

"May I ask where it is we're going, my love, beautiful Shiori?"

Shiori rolls her eyes for the thousandth time that day and giggles at Nijika's antics.

"Let's go to the park. Let's climb a tree. "
"May I also ask exactly why it is that we are climbing a tree?"

Nijika is laughing, she's always laughing, Shiori thinks it's funny and so incredible, the way she laughs with her whole body.

"To get a better view of the stars."

-
Shiori has an odd sort of resilience that rivals that of the fireflies around them, it's eleven at night and so, so dark outside- but Nijika has never seen a girl who looks like the sun at nighttime under the stars.

"Do you have any idea how completely, utterly beautiful you are?"

Shiori doesn't laugh this time, just looks up at the sky and smiles, small and closed mouthed and yet it lights up her face somehow.

Laying together, veiled by the night sky, under the stars- it makes them feel like ants. But not in a bad way, not in a way that makes them feel painfully small- in an exhilarating way. Like the universe was cocooning them but not in a suffocating way, as if they were merely being pulled by the tides of the moon and making no effort to swim to the surface.

Ishimori Nijika is a mess of seams and stitching, and Sato Shiori is the only thing keeping her together.
She is a rainbow of color trailing across the sky- bringing tears to look upon, but shedding oceans to look away.

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