Chapter Four: Lying To Oneself
What just happened?
Haruka's forehead made a small thud as it connected to the tiles of the shower. Hot water washed over her body and Haruka had to admit the heat of it felt very good after the cool rain of the typhoon. What the hell just happened? It had only been minutes since the incident at the bottom of the stairs. Haruka barely had time to take in the comfortable kitchen before she was guided into a small hallway and ushered into the bathroom where Michiru demanded her wet clothes. From the moment the blonde met the other woman she had not felt in control at all. It infuriated her how easily she had gotten caught up in the woman's flow.
Her lips still tingled from kissing Michiru. Her right hand, which hung at her side, moved of its own accord until she realized her fingers were touching her lips. She could not get rid of the sensation. Desire had blindsided her until she could do nothing but heed its call. She stared at her hands which only minutes ago had grasped the heated flesh of the teal-haired woman. They could recall perfectly the softness to which she had clung.
To rid herself of the sensation she slid her palms onto the cold tiles in front of her, but the slick smooth tiles did nothing to rid her of the impression. A knock came and her head swung around to peer at the frosted glass door where a vague shape was outlined.
"Haruka? I don't have anything that will fit you but you can use this robe until your clothes are dry," Michiru's voice was distorted due to the water from the shower but Haruka thought she could hear cheeriness in the woman's words.
"Okay," gruffness coated the reply from Haruka.
Was it really okay to stay here in this woman's home clad in just a robe for any amount of time? She didn't think so but it was too late to just walk away. The best thing to do would be to get dressed and leave as soon as her clothes were washed and dried. Yes, that's right. No more getting pulled into the strange woman's orbit. No more confusion and certainly no more lust. Haruka nodded her head decisively, hell-bent on leaving before she did something stupid.
-x-x-x-
The tension of being around Michiru while wearing practically nothing ebbed the moment the teal-haired woman left to take her turn in the shower. Haruka, heaving a sigh of relief, looked down at herself again. The turquoise silk robe Michiru lent her may have covered her torso but it did not cover much in the way of her legs. It carried the awkward feeling of dressing in a too-small yukata, one that left her calves and knees exposed.
An image of Michiru wearing the same piece of clothing occurred to her. While it seemed awkward on her own tall frame, Haruka imagined the short silky fabric would appear very elegant on the other woman; or, perhaps because the woman herself was very graceful Haruka could imagine the robe as being elegant. Whatever it was, it made Haruka feel like the opposite: rough and uncouth.
Disconcerted by the emotion she had not felt for years she shook her head in an effort to dispel the troublesome thoughts. Still frozen in the small hallway, she abruptly realized it would look odd if she was caught standing in the same spot after Michiru had told her, "Make yourself at home." Haruka's slim powerful legs moved of their own volition until she entered the room at the end of the hallway.
Her lips formed a small 'o' of amazement. For a typical person the area Haruka stood in would have been considered the living room, but Michiru had transformed the space into a studio. Canvases and various art supplies were scattered about the area in such a way that Haruka imagined Michiru could easily grab whatever she wanted while in the midst of working. The faint odor of turpentine hung in the air; Haruka did not dislike the smell.
The wall directly ahead of her was practically covered in canvases. The human body, realistically rendered in a range of subtle and vivid shades stared back at her. The crook of an elbow; the curve of a hip; the landscape of a back were all arranged before her. She was taken aback at the blatant talent displayed. Other stacks of canvas were braced against the wall of the room, their images facing the wall and Haruka found herself curious about their contents.
Her hand reached out tentatively with the intent of turning the top-most painting around but she drew back immediately. This was no way to behave in a stranger's home and she looked away. It was one thing to look at the openly displayed belongings in someone's home but Haruka considered it was too much like prying if the paintings were face-down. She likened it to opening drawers and medicine cabinets. Her gaze was drawn to a photograph which rested on a small coffee table nestled between two small sofas tucked into the far corner of the room. A bookshelf a head taller than the blonde stood nearby charmingly cluttered with various books and other small photographs.
Her footsteps were soft as she padded towards the coffee table with the letter-sized picture. A young Michiru flanked by a well-dressed, dark-haired couple smiled at her. A happy family: except Michiru didn't seem to share any of the man or woman's features. Haruka shrugged as she placed the photo back gently in its standing position. It wasn't any of her business. She was not here to learn anything about Michiru. She would wait for her clothes to dry and then she was out of here.
The sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway caught her attention and Michiru appeared, skin pinked from the heat of the shower. She was dressed in comfortable shorts and a tank top. Her hair hung in damp curls and Haruka thought of the sea then: deep, mysterious and a thing of beauty.
"Coffee, tea or me?"
"Huh?" Haruka's face suffused with color when the other woman giggled.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. You just looked so serious," Michiru explained with a smile. "I do mean it about the coffee or tea though. Or would you prefer something cold?"
The blonde cleared her throat, desperate to pull her thoughts away from the latter part of Michiru's first question, "Coffee, if you don't mind."
"Coffee it is!" Michiru exclaimed, her eyes twinkling.
"Is there anything you need help with?" Haruka offered and the other woman's lips turned up into a genuinely sweet smile. The effect of it was so dazzling Haruka almost couldn't bear to look.
"I don't need help," Michiru answered, "but the company would be nice."
Haruka nodded and followed the woman to the kitchen in silence.
-x-x-x-
"What do you do? Are you a student?" Michiru asked before taking a sip of coffee. They were back in the living room/studio, comfortably settled in the corner sofas. She sat on one sofa with one leg crossed over the other while Haruka sat stiffly, with her legs together across from her, the coffee table between them. Michiru had to stifle a smile at the woman's posture. Occasionally she could feel the heat of the blonde's navy eyes on her bare legs, and every time she felt the heaviness of it something in her stomach did a little jig.
"Does it matter?" the blonde answered after a moment of silence.
Conversation with Haruka is like pulling teeth, Michiru thought. The art student shrugged, "No, it does not. I was just making conversation."
"I'm a mechanic," the tall woman said, this time her gaze lingering on Michiru's hand which was wrapped around the coffee mug.
It's a lie, Michiru thought, Or a half-truth at least. I suppose she has her reasons. Oh well. She was not particularly hurt by the blonde's answer; instead, she resolved she would find out the truth eventually.
Haruka tilted her head towards the paintings, "You're very talented." It was said as a statement, cool and matter of fact instead of the gushing compliments most people gave Michiru upon seeing her work.
"Thank you," Michiru answered with a smile. Another reason to like the blonde sitting in front of her. She disliked others fawning over her and preferred to maintain her space. But it didn't hide the fact that Haruka was trying to deflect the conversation away from herself, "Are you usually in the habit of doing that?"
"Doing what?" faint frown lines appeared on Haruka's forehead as she stared at Michiru.
Michiru felt like shivering from the direct stare but somehow she controlled it. There was just something about being in this woman's presence that made Michiru feel like she was mere inches away from careening off a cliff. "Change the conversation so it's not about you."
"Because it doesn't matter. You won't be seeing me again," Haruka said, putting her mug down lightly onto the table. She stood suddenly. "Thanks for the coffee and the shower. I think it's time I go."
"Wait!" Michiru placed her cup down on the table and stood as well. She grabbed the blonde's hand and just that one touch ignited the slow smolder in her lower belly. She couldn't draw enough air into her lungs as she remembered the feeling of Haruka's body pressing against hers. Suddenly she didn't care that she barely knew anything about the blonde. She only wanted that sensation again.
She gazed up at the blonde, captivated by the long eyelashes of the woman and the building need they bracketed. The meeting of their mouths was inevitable and Michiru parted her lips immediately. The bittersweet taste of coffee clung to the lips upon her own. Her hands wandered between their bodies and tugged on the sash of the robe Haruka wore. She moaned in happiness when her fingers came into contact with the hot skin of the tall woman's slightly muscled belly.
She knew right there and then: there would be no stopping this time.
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