He is mine - Viewfinder fan fiction

Chapter 31

It was a peculiar thing indeed. Yes, peculiar. That was the word. Especially because Takaba had no other for it. Waiting on a line with giggling teenagers, smooching couples and respectfully aged elderly people was not on his list of explainable things. Especially not when his lithe form was towered and shadowed by the bewildering perfection of a man who stood out so much, that there was no set of eyes not sneaking in his direction. Asami stood right behind the perplexed boy and he was practically unleashing his many talents on the rich crowd. The man was wearing a sleek black shirt that resembled his usual hypnotizing dark suit, he was neatly shaved and trimmed, his phone occasionally made itself known and there was a long cigarette between his tightly pressed lush lips that somehow magically managed never to fume in his face. The count on the mysteries was long since lost, the boy noted with irony in his mind. He caught two young girls starring at them and was surprised to realize they weren't gawking only on the Greek god statue behind him. And a true Greek would probably say that the very statue shadowing him right now was a feast for the eyes and a tingle for the soul.

Takaba snorted in his mind, the level of irony was hitting never known before grounds. Since when had he become so poetic? He was still trying to suppress the downing remorse when he even thought of such mushy things. Now he even had to torture himself with precise expressions. Why did he do these things to himself? He was no masochist. On the contrary, he loved the simple pleasures of life quite a bit. And this definitely didn't count as such. Ohh it was so far from it it actually hurt.

He groaned, both from mental pain and in defeat. Nah, what use was there denying any of it any longer? It was out in the blue and so high in the sky that no pride and enviable embarrassment of his could shadow it ever again. This time he sighed heavily and for a second there, while contemplating his cruel fate, he almost forgot why he wanted so bad to crawl in his little shell and just die there. Why? Why was the hand of Mr. Look-at-me-I'm-gorgeous circling his waist so possessively that he was practically drowning into the black-velvet seduction that was the other's voice in his ear while the last spoke on the phone? Why did he have to suffer the burn of the curious strangers' eyes pinned on them with obvious puzzlement written there? Or was it disgust in others ... or may be simple amusement?

Oh yes, he was suffering all that because he was waiting on a line to get into a little floating box that would even cut off his last chance to run in near madness should he actually finally lose it. How had a cruise on Themes possibly sounded alluring at some point?

Akihito shifted on his feet with eyes pinned down and he just felt the hand around him tighten. What was wrong with the pompous jerk? Had he found a new way to drain him from his life-essence? Weren't the life-threatening bedroom activities more than enough already so he had to now succumb to public executions? Akihito heard the phone shut behind him and snapped out of his thoughts.

- "May be ... it's not such a good idea to do this!" He spoke loud enough and knew the other had heard him. The fingers on his abdomen slightly slid towards his chest and spread there like a fan.
- "Do what?" Yeah he had definitely heard him.
- "Get on the boat!"
- "And why would that be?"
- "Well ..." The boy hesitated. "Those people around are looking at us strange."
- "Of course they are!"
- "You see!" Was there actually a glimpse of light?
- "They don't see everyday a fully grown man blush and twitch like a five-year old for just waiting on a line!" Ahhh ... the darkness was thicker than ever.

Silence! And then ... came the Big Bang.

- "Yeah?" Some people practically jumped on their places. "They also haven't seen a five-year-old strangle a yakuza, now have they? Should I demonstrate?" He was heaving, no longer giving as much as a rat's ass who was watching and why. His world consisted only of the calm dark eyes looking at him and the lopsided grin that flashed on the irksome face after his tirade was over. **** him! **** everything! He was trying, he really was. He wasn't known as one of the most patient people but yet he tried to listen, tried to think first, tried to just not **** up and for what? To never be appreciated? To never be understood? To always be looked down at? Why the **** was he even trying? Why? Why? Why damn it!?!