Sora lay on his bed, hands behind his head, heavy boots propped on the footboard, staring at the ceiling, seeing nothing.
She kissed me…
The thought glistened and darted like a shoal of silver fish, scintillant, teasing, impossible to catch.
She kissed me…
The raft was finally finished, lashed tightly to the jetty, the few things she’d made them collect stowed away in readiness. He had wanted to leave there and then, and had run laughing and wide eyed into the foam, shouting and waving, but Riku had pulled him back, saying there was something he needed to do first. He’d trudged sullenly back out of the surf, head hanging, and Kairi had laughingly mussed his hair and told him they all needed a good night’s sleep. He hated it when she did things like that – like she was his mother or something – but then she’d dropped her hands onto his shoulders and
She kissed me…
Just once, a simple kiss, fresh and precious like a child. The fleeting pressure of her lips against his, gone almost before he’d felt it, like snow falling or a gloved hand against the wind. The memory of it glistened and darted, a trout in a stream.
She kissed me…
“Good night, Sora,” she’d said. And then, turning away, “Goodnight, Riku.”
“Sweet dreams, Kairi,” Riku had said, and she’d dragged the toe of one shoe slowly through the sand behind her as she reached out timidly to take his hand in both of hers. Sora had tried to look away, to not see, but his stupid eyes wouldn’t close and his stupid brain wouldn’t turn his stupid head and now the angle of the wooden sword propped against the foot of the bed was the tilt of her head as she raised her face ever so slightly to him and the shadows under his jacket hanging on the door post was the darkness under Riku’s hair as it fell forwards and the curve in the small of her back under Riku’s hand was the sliver of moon in the window and the starlight dancing on the ocean was the look in her eyes when finally she broke away.
…like a child.
Outside the window, a storm was coming.