Stale [Tomadashi one-shot]

Stale (BH6)

Author's note: I wrote this in 2015, but I never got the chance to publish it. So, here it goes. Hope you enjoy, and have a lovely day xx

🎈

The tapping of her nails against the wooden table was the only noise between them—no words were exchanged, none were needed. Both parties knew what the other wanted, and no one dared to take a step closer lest they'd face the devil who took on the form of the human that was in front of them.

Fiery glares were then shot like arrows in hopes to hit the other in an attempt to make them kneel, to make them give in and admit that it was all their fault. But this time, no, both stood still, and held onto their prides like escape ropes from a hole.

He was the second to move, caressing his hair that had the same color as charcoals. The lab's air conditioner was on, but he was sweating profusely that it was embarrassing him in front of her.

The tapping of nails didn't cease, too; it stayed constant, following a certain rhythm he knew nothing about. Her eyes were still sharp, boring holes into his skull that he actually thought of leaving her be, right then, right at that moment—but he didn't howbeit he really wanted to, because he was waiting for a sentence, or at least a word, from her lips.

She sighed after an hour of silence—of unbearable silence, more like—and stopped tapping. "Are you done playing with me?" The words were so casually thrown that it utterly surprised him. "Just tell me if you are so that we may finally end tasteless affair."

He bit his lip at her retort, realizing it, finally, that she was getting rid of him like rubbish—like he meant nothing more than one of the wheels that failed to reach her need for speed. "What do you mean?" He asked quizzically.

She crossed her arms against her chest as she shook her head. "Tadashi, Tadashi, Tadashi," she said. "You don't get it, don't you?"

He came closer, then held her by her shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "No, Leiko, I don't."

His answered earned him a look of befuddlement from her.

"I don't get why you'd leave—just like that—how you... could. Did I mean nothing to you? Or are you just that numb?" He continued, inching closer and closer.

Before she could even part her lips for another smug retort she had practiced in her mind, he had already hit them with his own, his hands traveling from her shoulders to her flushed cheeks. His eyes were shut unlike hers; shock was perspicuous, yet disgust was, too. It was as if her lips had singlehandedly possessed him into sin that he began to unbutton her leather jacket, but then she stopped him, and cut the trance created in between their dry lips.

"I'm sorry." She blinked at him solemnly. "The gum's gone stale, I don't want it anymore."