Posted 14 October 2012 - 07:01 AM
Disclaimer: I do not own La Corda D'oro
With a pounding headache, a pained grimace on his face, Kyouya Kisaragi wandered toward the Lindal Hall's living room. His shoulders slumped dourly like his own aura overshadowing the brightness of that day. He had opted to walk straight to the veranda where he would whiff the calm scent of nature to at least eased the tension in every fiber of his body.
Their little excursion last night was something he wouldn't entertain the next time they will venture on doing it again. Not that it was the first time—perhaps, the worst one—as they had chanced it long ago in their early years there, merely to acquaint themselves with each other.
The Test of Courage is, he decided, the worst game he had played for the second time. A build up of headache and other bodily pain. Aside from the major war of pain in his skull, his body hurt from bruises he acquired after chickening out and running like a scared cat, rolling like a ball on the hill, and tripping on tombstone badly protruded over the ground.
Scared enough, he wasn't able to inquire about the continuous flash following and somehow capturing his every move—afraid, of course, to find out it was another ethereal creature following him. But that little fact was bothering his mind, unbidden. It would always appear on his subconscious as if his intuition was giving him warning.
In the middle of his recollection of that night's unfortunate episode, Kyouya overheard a gaily chuckle at the side.
Familiar with how wicked that chuckle was, Kyouya snapped his head sideways, ever so lightly straining his neck. Somehow. He hissed as a humble pain course from his spine to his nape.
The chuckle resonated with anew vigor of hilarity, making his somnolent footstep on the wooden floor pound like a galloping horse.
With his obvious presence looming about, the chuckle subsided into a repressed giggle. The ultramarine eyes of a devil-angel, so innocent and mischievous at the same time, glided from the digital camera up to his angry face. "What?" solemnly, she asked.
Looking down, with apparent fire within his amber eyes, his face rigid. "What are you laughing—" his voice muffled, the fire in his eyes freeze into an abasing shock when he noticed the somewhat scandalous content of the camera. "W-what the..." he was able to stutter out.
The girl, who seemed unaffected, smiled and shrugged her shoulder. Her cyan hair fell and covered her back. "You look good, Kyouya."
"G-give me that camera!" Kyouya blurted out, flushing.
How could he be so unwary last night? The flashes that were following him weren't ghosts that would want to eat his soul, nor aliens that want to abduct his body. It was flashes coming from a diabolic apparatus she called camera. Without preamble, Kyouya managed to snatch it from her hold and raised it up.
"Hey! Give it back." Near protested, reaching for it.
"O-Oy...wait till I deleted this...stupid...stuffs. This is so uncool!" Kyouya spat back, pushing buttons on the precious tool.
"You might break it."
"Give it back, Kisaragi."
"Wait till I remove all of the pictures."
Near pouted and leaned more toward him to get her camera. She tiptoed to even his height, but to no avail, he was quite taller than her. Her pout morphed into a frustrating frown. She tried and tried but her actions were futile. Alas, before the thin strand of her patience snap, she pushed the bluehead backward, making him incline on the sofa and stumble.
But she didn't expect that he would grab her for support and pulled her down—as he was far heavier than a petite girl like her—with him.
The two tumbled backward, landing on the sofa first before falling over the carpet.
Kyouya's eyes widened like saucers. His position was rather awkward and embarrassing. Much to his faint heart could take, there was a woman above him! A soft lips resting over his. A scent of raspberry filled his nostril. To his surprised, it made him relax in a fraction of time before his mind returned to the current situation.
Fortunately, the woman didn't prolong his sweet suffering. She moved in haste, her long bangs hiding the heavy shade of red on her cheeks. She got up, grabbed her camera that was resting on the sofa and walked as fast as she could, chanting 'Stupid guy', repeatedly.
Leaving dumbfounded on the floor, Kyouya blinked until his eyes were tired enough to blink again. His brain making a slow progress on recollecting what had happened. When all was processed and read on his mind, a signal of alarm alerted him. He gasped, he flushed. He sat up and looked up over the air. His heart started pacing more than usual—how odd, he felt it stopped earlier. His cheeks felt like burning, he feared his face would melt. "Damn..."
His cluttered brain set up another batch to think about.
"For now I’m not SOMEBODY
But I'm sure that I will never
I’m not good at EVERYTHING
But I can do SOMETHING
As I keep on MOVING
Towards to my DREAM"
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