Каран Андерс - The Book of Firsts

Kyou had placed the chair so I could walk around him freely, and so I returned to stand behind him, then leaned forward so my diaphragm was pressed against the back of his head. I slid my hands from his shoulders to his chest, and began a light massage.

Pressed against him, I could clearly feel the slight movements as he continually tested the bonds holding his arms. He also occasionally tested my limits, but on the whole was endlessly considerate, not to mention quite similar to my own temperament. I closed my eyes for a moment, sliding my hands down to his ribs, wishing there was some way…

Then I took a step back, and began to tease him in earnest.

I’d had enough experience wearing the blindfold to know that guessing where I’d be touched next was half the fun, and so I tortured Kyou with longer and longer pauses, and slighter but ever more intimate touches. Finally, I knelt beside him, and blew sharply on his swollen head, and watched him convulse.

"You’re killing me, Cheshire," he said, breathing heavily.

"Ready to cry mercy?"

"Not in the slightest."

Thoroughly enjoying this response, I slid myself onto his lap, and kissed him for a short eternity before moving on to more strenuous activity.

"I think that might be the closest I’ll ever have to an out of body experience," Kyou said, a long time later.

"Learned anything about yourself?" I asked, pulling his blindfold off.

"That the ropes definitely need to be looser." His eyes were bright and hot.

I pressed against him, but only so I could reach behind to tug free the slipknot that was holding his bonds in place. He wriggled free, then immediately squeezed me half out of breath.

"Are your arms sore?" I asked.

"Not to the point of regret. Though parts of me are regretting I didn’t put anything to cover this wrought-iron seat."

I laughed, and we moved to lie on the couch for a long session of slow kissing, and an eventual return to more energetic contact, followed by more kissing. Both of us were reluctant to make a move to end things, but eventually the sky started to darken, my stomach rumbled, and Kyou’s arms relaxed.

"Shall I take you to dinner, Cheshire?" he murmured, almost too low to hear.

"We couldn’t even get fast food at three in the morning without showing up on the forums," I said, sitting up. "If I hadn’t been on the verge of passing out, I wouldn’t have dared let Rin drop me home on Sunday, let alone go to dinner."

Kyou grimaced, then sighed, and got off the couch. "Secrecy was all very exciting until not being seen within ten feet of you became impossibly irksome."

"It’s…" I began, but stopped. Saying it was nearly over would only make us both feel bad. "Do you think there’ll be much talk if all three of you dance with me next week?"

"There’s a few people we’re all planning to dance with," he said, fetching out towels. "Protective camouflage. Have you been practicing, Cheshire?"

"Lania and I have been taking turns being the lead," I told him. "We had a fun family ball at her house, trying to master our heels."

"No blisters, I hope."

"Well, we know where to put the preventative sticking plaster," I said, and went out to clean up.

We didn’t speak again until we were dressed. I was reaching for my backpack when Kyou put his arms around me from behind and said: "Stand a while, Cheshire."

I leaned back against him, and we were simply together under the fading light. I thought about all the goodbyes I’d said in the past, casual and practiced, and hoped this wasn’t one. Although I believed Kyou, Rin and Bran thought we could be friends, intention and circumstance too often went in different directions.

The sky was two degrees darker when Kyou gently kissed the side of my throat, then let me go. He led the way out of the garden without another word, and stayed at the fence, watching me walk away.

I only had four exams over Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, none of which were particular challenges. My main concern was Friday’s theoretical and practical Chemistry, since I’d seen the most meticulous of students hit hurdles in practical exams: beakers that shattered, faulty gas lines, not to mention the tiny, critical mistakes that inattention could bring.

After my literature exam Thursday morning, I spent a few hours in the library reviewing Chemistry, and then headed down to the garden for the last time.

Thinking about it in those terms was sure to depress me, so while I waited in the dovecote, I put aside everything except speculation about how Bran would interpret Everything She Likes Best . This exercise kept me entertained until my phone signalled that Bran was waiting. I headed up, and saw him at the fence. Then, in a moment of déjà vu, a girl called his name, and he moved away.

It had been Celeste last time. Today, Meggan.

I was very close to the fence, and stopped immediately, then slowly began to back up. I could still see Bran’s back. And, of course, I could hear them.

"What is it?" Bran asked, tone far from welcoming.

"I never thought there’d be a day when you’d look at me like that," Meggan said. "Don’t worry. I’m only here to tell you a couple of small things."

"Go on."

"I’m applying for Oxford."

Only the back of Bran’s head was visible to me, but the way he straightened was enough to reveal his surprise.

"You’ll do well there," he said, after a long pause.

"I hope so. Reading Classics isn’t practical career-wise, but it will make me happy." I think she stepped forward. Bran, at least, moved slightly back. "I made you unhappy, Bran. I’m sorry."

"It’s…" He hesitated. "It’s in the past."

"Like too many things."

I’d reached the corner of the wall, stepped around it, and then sat down. It wasn’t a completely sheltered position—a person looking at the right angle could spot me if they were paying attention—but I didn’t feel inclined to head back to the dovecote. This distance was enough to turn their words into vague murmurs.

For a while, I examined feelings. I’d been outright pleased to hear Meggan say she would be heading to an entirely different country to study. Distance would cut the last lingering threads of what her ultimatum had torn apart. Or work whatever magic a long absence could conjure. Bothered by the fact I was bothered, I crowded the whole thing out of my head with some handy numbers.

"What are you thinking about?"

Bran. He sat down beside me, glancing at the currently empty path.

"Reciting pi," I said.

"How many digits?"

"A couple hundred."

He made a vague sound of approval, then asked: "Want to go ride along the coast road?"

"Yes," I said, after a pause. "But not today." Knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to simply put aside the conversation with Meggan, I stood up. "Let’s play Tyranny until our mood’s better."

We went back through the fence, which Bran had left dangerously unbarred, and curled together on the couch, losing ourselves in a series of increasingly intense duo arena matches. We worked well as a team, and I found myself glad that our time together today had turned into something companionable. Friendship had become a very important thing to me. I wanted more afternoons just playing games with them.

"How greedy you’ve made me," I murmured.

"What?"

"Nothing." I put my phone down and turned to him.

Bran did not complicate matters. We kissed, fumbled clothes to the floor, moved together, then repeated with slight variations.

"How long will you be in the country after the dance?" he asked, when I finally decided it was getting late, and sat up.

"Three days."

"You’re still going to Peru with that actor?"