ADMIRE ME |Brothers Conflict

08

When I stopped Fuuto in the middle of a corridor, his expression showed genuine surprise.

"I was sure that you would avoid me, [Y/N]," he said, amusement lacing his voice.

"Although I was tempted to keep it, I wanted to hand this back," I confessed, taking the tape recorder from my bag. For five days, I had spent most of my time listening to the seven songs, but now I would have to give the device back.

He plucked the black box from my hands with a frown, his attention on the buttons for a minute. Gradually, the frown dissolved, leaving puzzlement behind.

"Why didn't you delete the file?" he asked me eventually, lifting his gaze an inch to be able to glare at me.

"I didn't want to accidentally delete any of the other things which are on your recorder," I explained, pointing at the box with one finger. "I like those songs a lot, and I would like to possess a copy of these with better quality."

In response to my words, Fuuto snorted, but he didn't seem very bothered by the fact that I had listened to these songs. Not mentioning the number of times I had listened to these songs, I waited patiently for his reaction, expecting a snarl or a new threat to blackmail me.

"Good to see that you still like your idol," he remarked drily, instead. Although the words didn't carry any malice, they reminded me of how I had lashed out at Fuuto nevertheless.

"I did apologise, didn't I?" I muttered in defeat, folding my arms in front of my chest in a defensive gesture.

Fuuto snickered in response, pure amusement tipping the corners of his lips in a breath-taking smile.

"I do believe you said 'I'm sorry' once, or twice, or let's say; five times."

"No need to be so snarky about it. I'm sorry, and I take my words back," I told him, but my apology sounded too accusatory to have any real effect. Then to change the subject, I turned my attention back to Fuuto's hand, but the tape recorder had already disappeared. While I was distracted by our antics, he had slipped the device in his bag or pockets.

"So, how exactly are you going to blackmail me?" I asked him.

Fuuto didn't miss a beat, his hand clamping down on my shoulder immediately.

"I found a better plan," he confided as he leaned closer to me until our cheeks brushed. Static electricity danced over my skin, every word he uttered sharp in my ears as Fuuto had turned every bit of focus I could muster on him. His soft breathing completely attenuated the continuous noise caused by the other students, cutlery, and the lunch ladies.

"I could sing one of these songs just for you."

"Yes," I blurted, much preferring the bribes over the threats.

"You didn't need long to consider my proposal," Fuuto said with an exasperated huff.

"I like your songs very much. Besides, you seem to think that the only reason I befriended Ema is to get closer to you, so I may as well use that assumption as pleases me."

A surprised laugh escaped Fuuto, the sound loud in my ear.

"Fair enough," he said as he straightened his back again. He looked around, scowling deeply. When I followed his glance, I understood why his mood had soured. We had attracted more attention than our conversation warranted; people were glancing at us from the corners of their eyes, rumours already spreading.

"Perhaps you should invest in damage control before you pursue your stepsister," I suggested.

"You shouldn't be so witty," Fuuto drawled, that scowl fixed on his face, "I just may resort to blackmailing you again."