☆ In which you hone your origami skills. ☆
You sit cross-legged on your bed folding delicate paper butterflies, the pile of winged origami sitting on your bedsheets growing steadily as the gentle morning sun warms your back. A messy stack of blue squares is placed next to you on top of the white linen. The paper had been handed to you by Chishiya earlier today, as he walked without invitation into your room.
"There is a thousand." He'd said, holding out the paper stack and flicking a wayward glance towards the additional post-it on your mirror.
The blonde now sits on the floor with his back against the wall, engrossed in another novel you'd dug from the depths of your drawers. You have a feeling he really does like the romance novels you provide him with, but you say nothing as he flicks through the pages intently - you are not keen on sitting through another lecture on how the romance genre is Unrealistic and Built Upon Lies. The two of you sit in companionable silence, marred only by the rustling of paper on both parts.
Occasionally, you look up from your creating to observe Chishiya. He looks surprisingly at peace with the absence of his usual condescending expressions. Every so often he raises his brows slightly at a passage in the book, or moves his hand to brush his hair back from his face. The number of butterflies that form under your fingers are nothing compared to the ones fluttering somewhere behind your ribcage. Chishiya's edges are softened by the sunlight, and he looks positively golden. Looking at him, you feel the pull of something you cannot put words to.
You turn your attention back to the butterflies rather hurriedly.
The blue butterflies that litter your bed are still nowhere near a thousand, but you believe you are making great headway. You know the reason for the thousand squares of paper - the story of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes, which you had mentioned to Chishiya just once in passing. It was a popular story amongst your friends back in high school, and you remember a group of you scrambling to finish an assortment of origami animals before someone's birthday. The legend goes that one who makes a thousand paper cranes would be granted a special wish, but since you could not remember for the life of you how to make cranes, the butterflies would have to do. Because of the story, birthday origami had become a kind of tradition between you and your friends over the years.
"It was nice," you'd told Chishiya, "to open your desk on your birthday and find cranes falling out of it."
It surprises you that he'd remembered that offhand comment, especially since he had replied, "I don't believe in birthdays," a nonsensical response that had caused you to snort at the time. How could a person not believe in birthdays? It's not as if they were based off some far-flung myth. They were, quite literally, the day you were born.
Presently, you squint at the man. Perhaps he meant birthday wishes, which made much more sense. Chishiya, overly cynical, was not likely to believe in the Magic of Birthdays.
Chishiya glances up from the book, head resting languidly against the wall. You arrange your face into the expression of someone who had not been scrutinizing another for their lack of birthday spirit.
"How many?" he asks, indicating the pile of butterflies.
"Maybe fifty or so?" You lower the half-folded butterfly in your hands to evaluate the pile. "I lost track a while ago."
"That's a long way from a thousand," he says, grinning lazily.
You continue to fold. "Why don't you come help me, then?" You suggest, placing the now finished butterfly down and reaching for another piece of paper.
He looks at your hands, as if considering it. "I don't know how to make butterflies."
"I'll teach you." You say, offering him a square with a smile.
Chishiya pretends to mull it over, then shrugs. "Alright, then," he says, and moves to sit next to you.
Chishiya watches you fold another butterfly, slowly so that he can follow what you are doing. He copies the folds you make, and soon enough he has a butterfly pile of his own. His origami is precise and clean, exactly as you had expected it to be.
"There must be at least a hundred now," you say cheerfully, surveying the paper creatures. "Only nine hundred more to go." Chishiya sighs, deftly producing another butterfly.
"I'm sure my fingers will have fallen off by then," he says dryly, tossing the origami onto the pile with the whisper of paper. You laugh, and put a butterfly on his knee.
"That would be a shame," you agree. He looks at you, unimpressed, and retaliates by placing two butterflies on your knee.
"Your wish better be worth it," he mutters. He eyes the butterfly on his leg and you think he will sweep it off, but he only looks away with another sigh. "What is your wish, anyway?"
You hum, reaching for another piece of paper. "I haven't quite thought of one yet," you admit. Chishiya looks at you, even more unimpressed.
"What am I folding these butterflies for then, hm?" he says, creasing the paper sharply.
"Well, it has to be special," you argue lightly. "It is a thousand butterflies, after all."
Chishiya makes a big show of preparing to roll his eyes. "There's no need for that look, my dear friend," you grin, and nudge his shoulder with the back of your hand in good humour. "Alright, what would you wish for, then?"
Chishiya brushes your hand off. "I don't believe in wishes," the Naysayer of Birthdays says.
"Oh, come on. If you did believe in wishes, what would you wish for?" You wheedle, planting another butterfly on his leg.
The blonde exhales disdainfully, and removes the extra butterfly from his knee. "There would be no point in telling you. It wouldn't come true either way."
"If it's within reason, maybe I could help make it come true," you sing, "friendship is a magical thing." You pause. "Just don't wish for anything like world peace, my influence doesn't stretch that far."
"The peace of the world is not my concern," Chishiya says scornfully.
"All the better," you laugh. "Go on, then. What's your wish?"
At this, his eyes glitter with something not unalike to a feline glee, and you duly hope you will not regret all the words that have come out of your mouth up until this point.
"You'll make it come true?" he says, looking pleased. You are having very large regrets now.
"Alright," you say reluctantly, and make a beckoning movement with your hand. "Tell me your wish."
Chishiya leans in slightly, as if he holds all the secrets to the world. He brings his secrets just close enough to whisper in your ear. "I want you to kiss me," he says simply, and his eyes do not waver from where they rest level with yours.
You blink. The butterfly you are holding begins to slip, and you quickly close your hand before it can fall. Chishiya watches you, amused, as you fumble with the paper butterfly. You are horrifically flustered, and break eye contact with the man to fold another butterfly with fervour.
"Why would you use your wish for that?" you mumble finally, cheeks warming. "I kiss you all the time."
"No," he says, and the glint in his eyes grows brighter. He sets his butterfly down, and his hands suddenly close over yours to guide the butterfly you are folding out of them. Stars explode where his fingertips meet your hands, making it increasingly difficult to look him in the eyes. "Kiss me properly," he says.
Butterflies tumble off your knee. "Okay," you say, barely louder than a whisper, and his hands move to cup your face.
Kissing Chishiya is as warm as he is cold, and the press of his lips against yours is soft and melting. You close your eyes, leaning into him. Almost naturally, your hand raises to brush against his jaw and his thumb traces over your cheek. He holds the expanse of the galaxy in his hands, which burn crystal-like stars over your skin.
When Chishiya pulls away, gaze lingering on your own, he is still just close enough to kiss you again. His palms are still against your cheek, your hands in the space between his neck and jawline. You look at him, eyes widened slightly.
"That was nice," Chishiya says, the corners of his mouth twitching into his familiar smirk. "Let's do that again sometime." With that he pulls away completely and resumes folding butterflies, humming softly, eyes sparkling.
You absolutely cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes.
Scooping up a handful of blue butterflies, you throw them at Chishiya. He looks unfairly pretty, laughing as he cards butterflies out of his hair. "You could stand to be a little more romantic," you tell him indignantly.
"Why?" he challenges, flashing you a grin. "Was kissing me not enough?"
His tone of voice is playful and you give him a shove, trying not to laugh. "You're meant to say something nice after you kiss someone," you huff, picking up another piece of paper. "It's what makes the kiss special. It's unspoken rule."
He raises his brows. "I said, 'that was nice'," he points out. "Need I say more?"
You snort, flicking another butterfly at him. "In what world has that ever been a good thing to say after you kiss someone? Maybe a compliment, or something."
"Fine, then," Chishiya shrugs, picking butterflies out of his lap one by one. "You look pretty."
A smile threatens to grace your lips and you have to muster all of your being to will it away. "The moment's already passed," you say, giving a long-suffering sigh. "And that's so half-assed."
"Then, should I kiss you again?"
"Absolutely not," you order. "Keep folding that butterfly, I want my wish."
"I already got my wish, do I really need to get one for you too?" he teases. "Alright, alright. Stop poking me, woman."