Minako arrived at his flat wearing delicate gold hoops, a fresh coat of lip gloss, and a spectacular purple bruise over her left eye. She smiled at how he was almost taken aback, an accomplishment in and of itself, and laughed at him. “What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“Actually I was considering asking you if you had gotten a new shade of lipstick and complimenting you on its inevitable loveliness, but I was distracted by that thing on your eye,” Kunzite said sourly, gently pulling her into the apartment by her wrist, his fingers almost encircling her flesh twice over. He tipped her head back once he got her under the light. It looked even worse under his scrutiny. “What did you do to yourself?”
She hesitated before answering, her pupils adjusting to the changing light. She swallowed, her lips parting for a moment before she actually spoke. “I wanted to see if I could pull off purple, so I punched myself in the face,” she said, shielding her eyes in order to make the joke without stuttering under his intense gaze.
Kunzite frowned with worry, wondering what she wasn’t telling him and why she felt like she was taking this route. He knew he would urge the truth out of her, but there was no sense going after it the second after she had gotten into his apartment. He knew her well enough to be certain that such a tactic would be counterproductive to put it mildly.
After a moment, he smoothed his thumb over her temple, smiling at the way she leaned into it like a cat adjusting its head so their owner found the itchy spot.
“It looks painful,” he observed, closing the door behind them with his other hand.
“Does it?” she said wearily. “Well, that explains why it is then.”
“The punch has made you punchy,” he muttered, chuckling at the disapproving look she gave him for the bad joke.
She pulled away from him somewhat reluctantly and ventured further into the apartment without invitation. She set her bag down on the coffee table and was temporarily preoccupied by the way the sparkles caught the light and danced on the wall. Then she literally fell back onto the couch, a sprawl of gold hair and pale limbs, positioning herself so that she looked perfectly at home in her discomfort.
He also thought she looked perfectly ravishing, and he was certain that this had been at least part of her intent. He sat down next to her at a respectable distance, restraining himself (though admittedly this was mostly to annoy her). His respectable distance was quickly quashed when she scooted towards him, resting her head on his chest.
“You’re doing that thoroughly irritating thing where you act like a gentleman,” Minako muttered, obviously pouting. “You have no idea how much that upsets me.”
“Thankfully not enough to cut me off from cuddling,” Kunzite said, resting his chin on the top of her head.
Minako realized the flaw in her plan all too late. “Shut up,” she whined, poking him weakly.
He thought about following her directive with utmost accuracy, but he knew better than to let her sit in silence. It made her fidgety and considering she was practically on top of him and that she had very pointy elbows, he decided against it. Instead he would his arm around her and said, “Are you going to tell me how you got that black eye?”
She hesitated, and he knew that he had her. Apparently something horrible hadn’t happened if she was so easily convinced. He couldn’t help but be relieved.
“I’m not sure I want to,” she said finally.
Kunzite had nearly a million and one responses to that, and he had a difficult time deciding which was the most appropriate and effective. “It can’t be that bad,” he said, erring on the side of caution.
“It’s not bad,” Minako said, inspecting her nails with an intensity he hadn’t seen Ami apply to her homework. “It’s just…” she sighed, letting her arms fall. “You’re going to laugh at me.”
“I am not going to laugh at you,” he said, having every intention of keeping that promise.
She glanced up at him, apparently believing him. She sat straight up, looking him straight in the eye as if she was about to tell him something terribly consequential and very, very important. After a moment, she uttered a dramatic, utterly tragic sigh and told him.
“I walked into a door.”
He stared at her, holding his mouth perfectly still. He thought maybe if he did that for long enough, the urge to laugh in her face would pass. He hated breaking promises.
She sighed again, this time in exasperation. “Oh, go ahead and laugh. I can tell you want to.”
“Only with your permission,” Kunzite said gravely before laughing out loud, so different from the deep, rumbling chuckle he normally employed in such situations. It was hardly side-splitting laughter, but it was better than he usually got (or allowed himself to have), and he enjoyed it immensely.
Minako’s patience with his reaction was not as long as he would have liked. “You can stop now,” she said loudly, glaring at him.
Kunzite continued to laugh for a moment before saying, “Actually, I don’t think so.”
Thoroughly fed up with this, Minako grabbed a pillow and tackled him, apparently trying to smother him. Of course, he was a great deal larger and stronger than she was, so he was able to get the pillow away from his face soon enough. Unfortunately, by doing this, they happened to land on the floor, the pair of them absorbing equal amounts of the impact. She quickly switched tactics, though she was unable to decide between trying to tickle him to death or smother him with her own mouth.
Either way, he thought it wasn't a bad way to go.
