ENG - My best friend's sister ᵐᶦᵏᵉʸ ˣ ᵒᶜ

57

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He pauses for a moment and then continues: "And because I'm pretty sure I'll get pneumonia because of you. But if you want to hear why I love you, I'll stand here all night in the pouring rain."

I stare at him in surprise and widen my eyes. My heart pounds wildly against my chest, but this time his words trigger that feeling in me rather than the previous panic and anger. I can hardly believe what I am hearing. I can feel the blush shoot up my face and a smile form on my lips. My tears that were flowing throughout have also stopped. It's incredible how he notices and remembers all the little things about me that I couldn't even begin to guess myself.

Uncertainly and with some hesitation, I place my hand on his, squeeze it lightly and whisper in a weak voice, "You're such an idiot." The words just escape me as I am overcome with a mixture of anger and affection.
He smiles at my words while at the same time nodding in agreement and replies, "I know. But I'm an idiot in love." His words sound sincere and his eyes radiate a mixture of regret and tenderness at the same time.
He lifts his other hand and places it gently on my other cheek, tenderly stroking my skin with his thumb as he slowly approaches. In the next moment our lips touch in a gentle - almost shy kiss. Without noticing, I automatically close my eyes and return the kiss - the previously seething anger seems to fade for that brief moment.

All too quickly, he releases this brief, yet soulful kiss and looks at me.
"I can't give you back your first time. And yes, I should have controlled myself, but how could I have done that with you naked on top of me..." he begins to explain, but before he can finish his sentence, I interrupt him by quickly pressing my hands to his mouth and draw in a sharp breath. The memories of the incident are still too fresh and painful enough and I don't want him to repeat those words.
"You don't need to repeat that. I remember very well what I did!", I scold quietly. I look away to the side and feel a smile forming on his lips under my hands. Only when I'm sure he won't go any further on the subject do I carefully remove my hands.
"I'm really sorry, Mei," he murmurs immediately as my hands leave his lips. "I can't turn back time and undo it. Let me make it up to you, will you?" he pleads with me. He continues, "I don't know how yet, but I promise you I will find a way. So please, Mei, forgive me."

My tears flow again, but this time not because I am sad - but happy. I smile and place my hands on his again, still gripping my face to hold it tight.
"You don't have to stand in the rain all night to tell me why you love me," I whisper in a slightly shaky voice. "The one before that already convinced me," I add with a satisfied smile that silences my previously fractured feelings.
In a gentle, almost cautious movement, his hands slide down from my face to embrace my waist and gently pull me against his warm body. His gentle grip causes goosebumps to form on my skin and our gazes sink into each other.
"I love you," he whispers, his voice barely louder than the patter of rain. Slowly he leans down to me and kisses my lips again, gently, yet firmly. The rain continues to pelt down on us incessantly, but at this moment I couldn't care less.
When he finally pulls away from the kiss, but is still dangerously close to my face, he says softly, "I'm so grateful you came into my life," and gently brushes a strand of my wet hair behind my ear. "Mei, be mine. Be my friend."

A shiver runs down my spine as he utters these words and tears spring to my eyes again. Shaking my head, I reply, "No," and want to push him away from me again, but he won't let me.
"Why? Is this whole situation still not like your movies to you?" he asks me with a slight smirk. It makes me laugh briefly too and my lips form a bitter smile as my hands hammer desperately against his chest.
"Yes, it is," I answer him, my voice little more than a huff. "It's just like in my films. The drama before and this sweet moment now here in the rain," I counter, forcing the words out as I take a deep breath. I lift my gaze and look him straight in the eye. In a trembling voice I add, "But I can't, you were with her. I don't want to be just one of those girls who are only good for fun. I don't want that."
"No, you're not that kind of girl..." he counters, looking so deeply into my eyes that it sends another cold shiver down my spine.
"I wasn't with Kira that night," he begins, his voice muffled. "I was with the bastards who hurt you and broke all their bones. If Kira hadn't happened to show up and stop me, I would have killed those fuckers," he tells me. I swallow hard and my throat suddenly feels so dry.
"That's the truth. She lied to you, tried to provoke you, and I didn't tell you because I was afraid you would see me differently when you found out what I did to those guys," he continues. His voice is now just a sad whisper in the rain. Gently, his hand strokes my wet cheeks, his fingers lovingly wiping away the tears that flow incessantly. I open my mouth to say something back, but I am at a loss for words. I can't find anything I could or should say in response.

Instead, I look around, trying to avert my gaze from him, having to first process what he just told me.
"I...", I begin hesitantly. I want to say something, I need to say something, but what?
After a moment of silence, I finally murmur uncertainly, "I love you too."
"I know," he grins at me. His arrogance makes me roll my eyes and I push him away from me with a loud, "Idiot." He stumbles back a few steps, just raising his hands innocently and grinning even wider as he slowly walks back towards me.
"So?" he asks me and I look at him confused.
"So?", I repeat his question, still unsure, which only makes him grin again.
"Be my girlfriend," he says then, his voice so confident, like it's not a question but a command. I can feel my heart beating faster with excitement. With each step he takes towards me, it seems about to leap out of my chest.
With a barely audible, "Okay," accompanied by a hesitant nod, I answer him.

A triumphant smile, full of satisfaction, spreads across his face as he closes the distance between us and gently places his hand at my waist.
"That's what I wanted to hear," he breathes, his voice little more than a raspy whisper, the sound of it leaving goosebumps on my skin. Our eyes meet again and it seems as if the whole world around us stands still for a moment. With one hand he gently strokes my cheek as he moves his face closer. His lips are just a breath away from mine, an agonisingly slow approach, as if he enjoys teasing me.
My breathing quickens uncontrollably as my heart hammers against my chest.
"Don't annoy me, idiot," I warn him, my voice half-joking, half-serious and mixed with nervousness. His reply is a mischievous, almost provocative grin and then our lips meet - in a soft, loving kiss. My hands instinctively claw into his shirt as I return his kiss, my eyes closing as a mixture of excitement and fear pulses through my veins.

Suddenly a feeling spreads through me that I shouldn't get involved - that I will regret it. But it feels so right. This is the right thing to do, isn't it?
But then the kiss deepens, his tongue gently touches my lips and suddenly those doubts are dispelled. I flinch in surprise, but still open my mouth slightly to welcome his tongue. Our surroundings and the storm we are in disappear for us and all that matters to me right now are his arms around me and the warmth of his body against mine.

When we finally break away from each other to catch our breath, I look into his eyes, which sparkle with pleasure. Immediately, that damn irresistible grin forms on his lips again.
"Idiot," I mutter, but this time it's an expression of affection rather than reproach. He laughs softly and his grin infects me and I can't help but grin myself. It feels like a thousand butterflies are dancing in my stomach.
"And you love that idiot," he replies with a mocking undertone before pulling me back into his arms. His lips find mine again, in a kiss that momentarily silences any insecurity, any doubt in me.
But this time I break away from him and push him away a little to look at him angrily.
"I'm still mad at you and I won't forgive you that easily either!", I immediately grumble. As I speak, I feel him pull me tighter against him.
"I know," he says softly. He leans forward again and gives me a tender kiss.
Determined, I push him away from me again and fix him with an intense gaze, saying, "And we won't make love until I want us to!" He nods in understanding and an approving "Mhmm" escapes his lips before kissing me again. His kisses are both comforting and full of desire, making it really hard for me to stay serious.
The words from me become fewer and the kisses increase. Still, between kisses, I whisper softly, "And you will come with me to the doctor." And add between another kiss, "You can do this embarrassment to yourself as much as I can. After all, it's your fault!"

Suddenly he grabs me tighter and lifts me up effortlessly. Automatically, I wrap my legs around his torso to hold on and look at him.
"I'll do anything my beautiful girlfriend asks of me," he smiles and gives me another kiss, which I return with a grin, this time not releasing it and just enjoying it.

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