Paige and Shinobi, Backdated to JP's Party
Apr. 4th, 2013 08:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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om_mainPaige and Shinobi share their mutual passion for linguistics, dance, and PDA ...
(That last one may be less a passion than a momentary lapse in judgment on the part of the former, but Shinobi will take it.)
Well now, this was really very quaint. And that really was saying quite a lot, given the affluence of the community of South Salem, that it could achieve such a comfortable atmosphere. Shinobi had been expecting something a little more rarefied and stodgy, but didn't mind at all having been pleasantly surprised. In a dark turtleneck, blazer, and slacks, he was the picture of ease, reclining with his elbow against the wall near one of the lounge windows. His eyes swept over the milling students and their chaperones, watching the ebb and flow of bodies as small groups formed, lingered, and broke apart again. And, when he thought she wasn't looking, he was happy to steal a moment or two to admire his companion for the evening. His date, though he wasn't sure she would appreciate him saying as much directly.
"Have I told you recently how gorgeous you look tonight, Paige?" he asked suddenly. A little light conversation between courses was good for the digestion, after all, especially when the topic was so exceptionally pleasant. "It's quite a claim to make, in this group, I admit, but nevertheless. I am awed."
Standing across from Shinobi in fitted corduroy pants, a button-up shirt, and a sweater, Paige gave him the same skeptical look she'd been giving him all night and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. Compared to the red dress that Miss Haruka had designed and he'd paid for, this was probably only a step or two above rags. But she hadn't wanted to overdo it and the clothing in between this and that dress which occupied her closet was limited and not suited for the winter weather. Sundresses and church clothes. "Have I told you lately that you're exaggeratin'?" she responded, blushing despite her protests, "Next you'll be joinin' me on my mornin' run and tellin' me how splendid I look in ratty shorts and a tank top." Still, she didn't look unhappy.
Just too sweet for words, really. And every blush and cute little sort-of self-conscious gesture just made her seem that much cuter. True, her current ensemble didn't really hold a candle to the dress she'd worn at Valentine's, but Shinobi had decided he shouldn't be greedy. And anyway, there was much to be enjoyed in all of Paige's various looks.
"If that's an invitation, I might just take you up on it," he teased. "Since I'm sure even the rattiest of shorts must display those lovely legs to perfection." Then, a somewhat more skeptical expression impressed itself upon his face. "How early in the morning are we talking about? Because I'm not exactly the world's earliest riser."
Shinobi's opinion of the shorts he'd never seen her in only made Paige blush more noticeably, but the change in his expression and the sudden urge to laugh took the edge off of her embarrassment and she grinned. "Oh, not too early," she informed him casually, knowing that the boy barely managed to crawl out of bed in time for class on most days and showing no mercy, "Usually 5:15 or so."
That prospect actually seemed to horrify him. "God's not even awake that early!" he protested. "You know there's a perfectly good seven o'clock in the morning, too, right? And even a ten-thirty!" Quarter-past five? Unthinkable. The only time Shinobi had ever seen that part of the day was on those occasions he'd foregone sleep altogether. "What sort of bizarre septuagenarian's hours do you keep, anyway? We need to start medicating you, I think. Heavily."
"I don't think God sleeps," Paige responded, feigning serious consideration through her smile; even if he was just hamming it up for her benefit (and he might've been) she liked to get a rise out of him from time to time too. It would just be too one-sided otherwise. Then she laughed and blushed and shook her head before fixing him with both light eyes. "Does that mean you're not comin'?"
If he hadn't been reluctant to send their conversation further off into theological territory (however spurious), Shinobi might have remarked that he and the Almighty had never been close enough for him to ask. Besides, she was looking at him directly with those big, beautiful eyes, the blush in her cheeks bringing out their brilliant blue color magnificently, and he couldn't bring himself to bother. His own, nearly black, simply stared black, drinking up the odd but welcome intimacy of it.
"When you put it that way, it breaks my heart to say anything but yes," he replied quietly, though a faint, self-mocking smile quirked the corners of his mouth. "Though everything self-indulgent and slothful in me rises up against it." With a helpless shrug, he concluded, "All right. I suppose I'll try anything once. It probably won't kill me, at least." Probably. Though a part of him was still reluctant to take that chance.
"You don't have to, Shinobi," Paige assured him, finally relenting and shaking her head as she gave up on teasing the boy. She offered him a more genuine smile now, the sort that made her look happy and grateful and a little smitten at the same time, then she looked into the dark outside the window. "Besides. You came with me tonight," she said. And she knew which mattered more to her.
"When you say it like that, I really can't decline!" he protested. He still wasn't entirely sold on the whole pre-dawn exertion thing, but there were some things worth a little effort on his part. Especially when she was looking at him in that unspeakably endearing way. "And was there ever a question in your mind that I would leap at the chance to be your escort again? I'm a little surprised Beaubier didn't object to my presence, frankly."
"Keep leapin' whenever I call and I'll expect it all the time," Paige warned playfully, hooking her hands together in front of her and looking at him again. She wasn't going to push the point, though. Not when she enjoyed his company as much as she did and hoped he'd keep right on leaping. Interrupted from this thought, she tilted her head a little. "Why would Jean-Paul mind you bein' here...?" she asked, an anxious note winding its way into her tone. Given how awkward things had been between her and Simon, the last thing she wanted was for Jean-Paul and Shinobi to be off on the wrong foot too.
There might come a time, Shinobi reflected, when he was not able to leap quite so readily at her slightest invitation. He was, exile aside, still the heir-apparent of continents-spanning corporate empire, after all. Sooner or later, some share of his attention would be required there. That time, however, was not now; now, he was happy to jump anytime she crooked a finger even slightly in his direction.
For the rest, he gave a shrug. "I haven't the faintest idea, really, likable as I am. But the rumor mill has it that he has little use for Pietro or Theodore, which leads me to think he might be the serious type. And I'm just a pair of rainbow suspenders away from being frivolity personified. Seems sensible to take a few small precautions."
"He's serious," Paige conceded, seeming to relax, "And he can seem a little harsh at times, but he's a good guy." Then she paused, taking Shinobi up on that mental image and picturing him hiding a pair of rainbow suspenders beneath that well-tailored blazer he was wearing. She was helpless against the budding smile that resulted and shook her head. "What sort of 'precautions'?"
"The avoidance kind, mostly," he admitted, sidling a little closer. "I can't do anything to annoy our gracious host if I stay out of his way, right? And there seems to be distraction enough to keep him occupied." Shinobi grimaced, though humorously. "It is trying, of course, for me not to impose myself outrageously upon every unfamiliar face, but I'm discovering heretofore-unguessed wellsprings of restraint within myself."
All the same, he held up a cautioning finger. "Don't get used to it."
"Cross my heart." Paige indicated the accompanying X over her chest with one fingertip, giving him a playful 'I know better anyway' smile and pushing down his hand with one of her own. Her fingers lingered against his skin for a moment, then drew back. "But I'm surprised you've got any unfamiliar faces left. I would've thought you'd know everybody on campus and most of Salem Center by now. Guess I'm holdin' up the progress."
His lips pursed, but the humor never left his eyes. "I'm a very busy man, you know; it's hard to find enough hours in the day to pack in all the debauchery I do." Shinobi smirked a little, and reached out to just barely trace the back of his finger against her hand. "Though, yes, I suppose I am spending a great deal more time in the library than I otherwise would. I'm in no rush, however; Xavier's is my prison for another year or two, at least, so there's ample time to acquaint myself with the other inmates. Never fear."
Paige had never seen this debauchery that he was so proud of (unless his excess with the dress counted), but she allowed him a knowing nod just the same and blushed as he touched her hand. But then the shy happiness went out of her face. "Is that...really how you see Xavier's?" she asked. And if he did, what did that mean? In two years his 'sentence' would be over and she'd never see him again? Her heart seemed to plummet from her chest down into her stupid, sensible shoes and she just looked at him, not sure what she was expecting.
He gave a considering hum, interpreting her declining to pull away as permission to continue the pleasant, featherlight contact. "That was certainly how I saw it at first," said Shinobi frankly. "And I suppose I will never quite not resent my father's reasons for putting me there--in his eyes, a prison is exactly what it is; he wouldn't have sent me otherwise. That aside, as school's go," dark eyes flashed back toward Paige, "it's certainly not all bad. Or even mostly bad. So my complaints of late tend to be more empty hyperbole than genuine angst."
The more that Paige heard about Shinobi's life back home, the more she disliked Sebastian Shaw. Not only had the man sent his son away, but he'd turned it into 'exile' and 'imprisonment' and she could think of no good reason for a father to be so cruel. But she managed to hold her tongue, not sure how much would be too much to say and not sure she would be able to hold herself in check if she started. She frowned. "That ain't right. That he did that," she said, leaving the assessment at that, "But...I'm glad that you don't hate it."
"No, he agreed, "I don't even come close to hating it, I suppose." Unlike his father. But there was nothing fiery in Shinobi's hatred of the elder Shaw; it was an icy thing, patient and enduring, and born of years of powerlessness and solitude. So much a part of his character now that he supposed he wouldn't have quite been himself without it. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to take our delightful conversation down such a thorny road to nowhere. Really, I'm having a wonderful time at Xavier's. I might even accidentally learn something, if I'm not careful."
This didn't change the way that Paige felt about Shinobi's father, but she'd wanted to hear it and gradually the gloom that had fallen across her features began to lift. Wonderful had done it, she thought; hearing him call it wonderful. She shook her head. "You don't need to apologize. I asked and you were honest with me. I...wouldn't want you to lie, or hold back, just to spare my feelin's." Then she found her way back to a smile. "And what do you mean 'might'? It is a school, you know! You should be learnin' somethin' every day..."
The lightening of Paige's expression, which had grown perceptibly gloomy as the unwelcome topic of his father had crept into their conversation, caused Shinobi's smile to widen. He was only too happy to abandon talk of the old man; the sooner the wretched bastard was as easily dismissed from his life, the better. His expression turned wry at her latest suggestion, however. "Every day? That sounds positively exhausting. How about we start at one or two things a month, and work our way up from there?"
"Every day," Paige retorted, attempting to hide her smile and put on a stern face. It lasted for about two seconds before she relented.
"Maybe every other day. It's not like it has to be something big..." She paused, seeming to consider something for a moment. The color crept into her cheeks even before she started. "For example. Today I learned: 'Watashi to odotte itadakemasen ka?'." It was clear that she had practiced this and, while her accent wanted to hit each word in all of the wrong places, it was certainly decipherable: 'Do you want to dance with me?'.
At that, Shinobi actually looked surprised, though he attempted to gloss over it as quickly as possible. Even so, he raised a hand to Paige's cheek, barely touching, and said, "Hai. I can think of nothing that would please me more. And you are quite possibly the most adorable person I have ever met in my life. Please do run any other conversational Japanese you pick up by me anytime. It's... oddly flattering."
The warmth of Shinobi's response surprised Paige because she'd half-expected him to laugh. She still wasn't going to tell him about the daily calendar of Japanese phrases that she'd bought after their outing to Miss Haruka's dress shop or how long she'd practiced just that one sentence, but she angled her head slightly into his touch and smiled. "Not me," she teased, her excuse transparent as soon as she gave it, "Just academically competitive. So many people here are bilingual I feel like I'm slackin' off. But...I will."
"Mm," he murmured. "Arigatou." And, because it was simply too difficult to resist at that point, he tilted his face into Paige's and stole a brief kiss--far, far to brief--and held her cheek in his palm as he pulled away. "If you ever feel you might benefit from private lessons, do let me know. There's certainly not a great deal I can teach you, but, when it comes to foreign tongues, I'm sure I can oblige. Please interpret that on a variety of levels."
It occurred to Paige distantly that Shinobi Shaw had just given her the first kiss she'd ever had. Mostly, though, her heart was skipping beats and she felt light headed and wished that brief, sweet pressure had lasted just little bit longer. She looked at him, dazed and flustered and entirely out of things to say; especially the sort of playful witticism his words seemed to require. She missed the invitation for innuendo completely. "I....'d. Like that," she said quietly.
Shinobi couldn't help himself; he grinned. "Souka," he murmured, and, because it was quite simply not possible for him to exercise even the slightest bit of restraint, with her looking ... just so enticing, he leaned in again, finding her mouth with his and holding it there, for a few moments. A few wonderful, electric moments. Moments he really would have preferred to draw out quite extensively.
"You're a very good kisser, you know," he whispered confidentially. "Are you sure you haven't done this before?"
Some part of Paige, one of the more grounded and logical parts, was aware that this was too fast but its protests were lost beneath her heartbeat. She returned the kiss with the hesitant enthusiasm of the inexperienced until their lips parted and she stood there, feeling light-headed and wondering in some distantly curious way if he'd tasted her flavored lip gloss. Cherry Bomb, according to the label. Then she blinked, his words bringing her back down to Earth long enough for her to look embarrassed and lightly push his shoulder. "Positive, thank you very much."
Licking his lips, Shinobi grinned as he recognized the subtle taste of cherries. He did not want to push Paige; above and beyond the attraction he (most assuredly) felt for her, her good opinion of him had come to mean something, as well. Even so, he traced the line of her jaw familiarly with one fingertip, and asked, "Would you like to again?"
On speaking terms with her common sense again, Paige lifted one hand to guide his away from her face and stepped back a little. This was definitely too fast and she wasn't ready. Her lips pursed momentarily and she shook her head. "Not yet," she said in a soft but unyielding voice, unwilling to let even Shinobi's charisma change her mind, "But...I'd still like to dance with you. If you still want to dance with me."
"Another time, then, perhaps," Shinobi replied easily, betraying neither disappointment nor impatience. Instead, he reached for Paige's hand, his grin practically incandescent. "And of course I want to dance with you. I always want to dance with you. I can scarcely express how it thrills me to actually have a suitable occasion to do so."
Paige smiled with relief and then with happiness as he moved to take her hand. She let him. The touch still made her feel eager and warm all through herself, but not in the feverish way that the kiss had, and for now...that was perfect. "There doesn't seem to be a shortage of occasions around here. I...don't reckon that'll change." She paused, then gave his hand a little tug before stepping away from the wall. "And if it does...we've got to have one good dancin' song between the two of our collections. Don't you think?"
He readily followed her away from the wall, his hand tightening slightly around hers, his other moving to her waist familiarly. "Between us? I'm sure we've at least an all-night dance marathon. Though I'd be happy to settle for just a few private hours." Suddenly, he spun Paige around, and was pulling her toward the open space that served as a dance floor of sorts. "For now, though, I suppose a few minutes will do. Any excuse to keep you close."
Thinking of the meager playlist on her computer and the percentage of those songs that would make Shinobi flinch, Paige grinned guiltily but didn't argue. There could only be two outcomes: he'd finally realize what a geek she was or he'd take it upon himself to educate her in all things pop...and she thought she could probably do without either of those outcomes. Besides, she wouldn't have had the time. When he turned mid-step her she yelped with surprise, but not the displeased kind, and quickly fell into pace behind him. "You need an excuse now?" she asked, "That never seemed to stop you in the library."
"I like an excuse, when one comes readily to hand," he clarified, tugging Paige closer and beginning to sway to the faint music. "Though I suppose you're quite right: I really don't need one. Other than the sheer pleasure of your company."
It only took Paige a few steps to find her rhythm with Shinobi; she'd been practicing and now she was glad. She could focus on him and his words and not the possibility of falling over her own two feet. "I...think I like that one the best anyway," she admitted with a smile.
(That last one may be less a passion than a momentary lapse in judgment on the part of the former, but Shinobi will take it.)
Well now, this was really very quaint. And that really was saying quite a lot, given the affluence of the community of South Salem, that it could achieve such a comfortable atmosphere. Shinobi had been expecting something a little more rarefied and stodgy, but didn't mind at all having been pleasantly surprised. In a dark turtleneck, blazer, and slacks, he was the picture of ease, reclining with his elbow against the wall near one of the lounge windows. His eyes swept over the milling students and their chaperones, watching the ebb and flow of bodies as small groups formed, lingered, and broke apart again. And, when he thought she wasn't looking, he was happy to steal a moment or two to admire his companion for the evening. His date, though he wasn't sure she would appreciate him saying as much directly.
"Have I told you recently how gorgeous you look tonight, Paige?" he asked suddenly. A little light conversation between courses was good for the digestion, after all, especially when the topic was so exceptionally pleasant. "It's quite a claim to make, in this group, I admit, but nevertheless. I am awed."
Standing across from Shinobi in fitted corduroy pants, a button-up shirt, and a sweater, Paige gave him the same skeptical look she'd been giving him all night and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. Compared to the red dress that Miss Haruka had designed and he'd paid for, this was probably only a step or two above rags. But she hadn't wanted to overdo it and the clothing in between this and that dress which occupied her closet was limited and not suited for the winter weather. Sundresses and church clothes. "Have I told you lately that you're exaggeratin'?" she responded, blushing despite her protests, "Next you'll be joinin' me on my mornin' run and tellin' me how splendid I look in ratty shorts and a tank top." Still, she didn't look unhappy.
Just too sweet for words, really. And every blush and cute little sort-of self-conscious gesture just made her seem that much cuter. True, her current ensemble didn't really hold a candle to the dress she'd worn at Valentine's, but Shinobi had decided he shouldn't be greedy. And anyway, there was much to be enjoyed in all of Paige's various looks.
"If that's an invitation, I might just take you up on it," he teased. "Since I'm sure even the rattiest of shorts must display those lovely legs to perfection." Then, a somewhat more skeptical expression impressed itself upon his face. "How early in the morning are we talking about? Because I'm not exactly the world's earliest riser."
Shinobi's opinion of the shorts he'd never seen her in only made Paige blush more noticeably, but the change in his expression and the sudden urge to laugh took the edge off of her embarrassment and she grinned. "Oh, not too early," she informed him casually, knowing that the boy barely managed to crawl out of bed in time for class on most days and showing no mercy, "Usually 5:15 or so."
That prospect actually seemed to horrify him. "God's not even awake that early!" he protested. "You know there's a perfectly good seven o'clock in the morning, too, right? And even a ten-thirty!" Quarter-past five? Unthinkable. The only time Shinobi had ever seen that part of the day was on those occasions he'd foregone sleep altogether. "What sort of bizarre septuagenarian's hours do you keep, anyway? We need to start medicating you, I think. Heavily."
"I don't think God sleeps," Paige responded, feigning serious consideration through her smile; even if he was just hamming it up for her benefit (and he might've been) she liked to get a rise out of him from time to time too. It would just be too one-sided otherwise. Then she laughed and blushed and shook her head before fixing him with both light eyes. "Does that mean you're not comin'?"
If he hadn't been reluctant to send their conversation further off into theological territory (however spurious), Shinobi might have remarked that he and the Almighty had never been close enough for him to ask. Besides, she was looking at him directly with those big, beautiful eyes, the blush in her cheeks bringing out their brilliant blue color magnificently, and he couldn't bring himself to bother. His own, nearly black, simply stared black, drinking up the odd but welcome intimacy of it.
"When you put it that way, it breaks my heart to say anything but yes," he replied quietly, though a faint, self-mocking smile quirked the corners of his mouth. "Though everything self-indulgent and slothful in me rises up against it." With a helpless shrug, he concluded, "All right. I suppose I'll try anything once. It probably won't kill me, at least." Probably. Though a part of him was still reluctant to take that chance.
"You don't have to, Shinobi," Paige assured him, finally relenting and shaking her head as she gave up on teasing the boy. She offered him a more genuine smile now, the sort that made her look happy and grateful and a little smitten at the same time, then she looked into the dark outside the window. "Besides. You came with me tonight," she said. And she knew which mattered more to her.
"When you say it like that, I really can't decline!" he protested. He still wasn't entirely sold on the whole pre-dawn exertion thing, but there were some things worth a little effort on his part. Especially when she was looking at him in that unspeakably endearing way. "And was there ever a question in your mind that I would leap at the chance to be your escort again? I'm a little surprised Beaubier didn't object to my presence, frankly."
"Keep leapin' whenever I call and I'll expect it all the time," Paige warned playfully, hooking her hands together in front of her and looking at him again. She wasn't going to push the point, though. Not when she enjoyed his company as much as she did and hoped he'd keep right on leaping. Interrupted from this thought, she tilted her head a little. "Why would Jean-Paul mind you bein' here...?" she asked, an anxious note winding its way into her tone. Given how awkward things had been between her and Simon, the last thing she wanted was for Jean-Paul and Shinobi to be off on the wrong foot too.
There might come a time, Shinobi reflected, when he was not able to leap quite so readily at her slightest invitation. He was, exile aside, still the heir-apparent of continents-spanning corporate empire, after all. Sooner or later, some share of his attention would be required there. That time, however, was not now; now, he was happy to jump anytime she crooked a finger even slightly in his direction.
For the rest, he gave a shrug. "I haven't the faintest idea, really, likable as I am. But the rumor mill has it that he has little use for Pietro or Theodore, which leads me to think he might be the serious type. And I'm just a pair of rainbow suspenders away from being frivolity personified. Seems sensible to take a few small precautions."
"He's serious," Paige conceded, seeming to relax, "And he can seem a little harsh at times, but he's a good guy." Then she paused, taking Shinobi up on that mental image and picturing him hiding a pair of rainbow suspenders beneath that well-tailored blazer he was wearing. She was helpless against the budding smile that resulted and shook her head. "What sort of 'precautions'?"
"The avoidance kind, mostly," he admitted, sidling a little closer. "I can't do anything to annoy our gracious host if I stay out of his way, right? And there seems to be distraction enough to keep him occupied." Shinobi grimaced, though humorously. "It is trying, of course, for me not to impose myself outrageously upon every unfamiliar face, but I'm discovering heretofore-unguessed wellsprings of restraint within myself."
All the same, he held up a cautioning finger. "Don't get used to it."
"Cross my heart." Paige indicated the accompanying X over her chest with one fingertip, giving him a playful 'I know better anyway' smile and pushing down his hand with one of her own. Her fingers lingered against his skin for a moment, then drew back. "But I'm surprised you've got any unfamiliar faces left. I would've thought you'd know everybody on campus and most of Salem Center by now. Guess I'm holdin' up the progress."
His lips pursed, but the humor never left his eyes. "I'm a very busy man, you know; it's hard to find enough hours in the day to pack in all the debauchery I do." Shinobi smirked a little, and reached out to just barely trace the back of his finger against her hand. "Though, yes, I suppose I am spending a great deal more time in the library than I otherwise would. I'm in no rush, however; Xavier's is my prison for another year or two, at least, so there's ample time to acquaint myself with the other inmates. Never fear."
Paige had never seen this debauchery that he was so proud of (unless his excess with the dress counted), but she allowed him a knowing nod just the same and blushed as he touched her hand. But then the shy happiness went out of her face. "Is that...really how you see Xavier's?" she asked. And if he did, what did that mean? In two years his 'sentence' would be over and she'd never see him again? Her heart seemed to plummet from her chest down into her stupid, sensible shoes and she just looked at him, not sure what she was expecting.
He gave a considering hum, interpreting her declining to pull away as permission to continue the pleasant, featherlight contact. "That was certainly how I saw it at first," said Shinobi frankly. "And I suppose I will never quite not resent my father's reasons for putting me there--in his eyes, a prison is exactly what it is; he wouldn't have sent me otherwise. That aside, as school's go," dark eyes flashed back toward Paige, "it's certainly not all bad. Or even mostly bad. So my complaints of late tend to be more empty hyperbole than genuine angst."
The more that Paige heard about Shinobi's life back home, the more she disliked Sebastian Shaw. Not only had the man sent his son away, but he'd turned it into 'exile' and 'imprisonment' and she could think of no good reason for a father to be so cruel. But she managed to hold her tongue, not sure how much would be too much to say and not sure she would be able to hold herself in check if she started. She frowned. "That ain't right. That he did that," she said, leaving the assessment at that, "But...I'm glad that you don't hate it."
"No, he agreed, "I don't even come close to hating it, I suppose." Unlike his father. But there was nothing fiery in Shinobi's hatred of the elder Shaw; it was an icy thing, patient and enduring, and born of years of powerlessness and solitude. So much a part of his character now that he supposed he wouldn't have quite been himself without it. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to take our delightful conversation down such a thorny road to nowhere. Really, I'm having a wonderful time at Xavier's. I might even accidentally learn something, if I'm not careful."
This didn't change the way that Paige felt about Shinobi's father, but she'd wanted to hear it and gradually the gloom that had fallen across her features began to lift. Wonderful had done it, she thought; hearing him call it wonderful. She shook her head. "You don't need to apologize. I asked and you were honest with me. I...wouldn't want you to lie, or hold back, just to spare my feelin's." Then she found her way back to a smile. "And what do you mean 'might'? It is a school, you know! You should be learnin' somethin' every day..."
The lightening of Paige's expression, which had grown perceptibly gloomy as the unwelcome topic of his father had crept into their conversation, caused Shinobi's smile to widen. He was only too happy to abandon talk of the old man; the sooner the wretched bastard was as easily dismissed from his life, the better. His expression turned wry at her latest suggestion, however. "Every day? That sounds positively exhausting. How about we start at one or two things a month, and work our way up from there?"
"Every day," Paige retorted, attempting to hide her smile and put on a stern face. It lasted for about two seconds before she relented.
"Maybe every other day. It's not like it has to be something big..." She paused, seeming to consider something for a moment. The color crept into her cheeks even before she started. "For example. Today I learned: 'Watashi to odotte itadakemasen ka?'." It was clear that she had practiced this and, while her accent wanted to hit each word in all of the wrong places, it was certainly decipherable: 'Do you want to dance with me?'.
At that, Shinobi actually looked surprised, though he attempted to gloss over it as quickly as possible. Even so, he raised a hand to Paige's cheek, barely touching, and said, "Hai. I can think of nothing that would please me more. And you are quite possibly the most adorable person I have ever met in my life. Please do run any other conversational Japanese you pick up by me anytime. It's... oddly flattering."
The warmth of Shinobi's response surprised Paige because she'd half-expected him to laugh. She still wasn't going to tell him about the daily calendar of Japanese phrases that she'd bought after their outing to Miss Haruka's dress shop or how long she'd practiced just that one sentence, but she angled her head slightly into his touch and smiled. "Not me," she teased, her excuse transparent as soon as she gave it, "Just academically competitive. So many people here are bilingual I feel like I'm slackin' off. But...I will."
"Mm," he murmured. "Arigatou." And, because it was simply too difficult to resist at that point, he tilted his face into Paige's and stole a brief kiss--far, far to brief--and held her cheek in his palm as he pulled away. "If you ever feel you might benefit from private lessons, do let me know. There's certainly not a great deal I can teach you, but, when it comes to foreign tongues, I'm sure I can oblige. Please interpret that on a variety of levels."
It occurred to Paige distantly that Shinobi Shaw had just given her the first kiss she'd ever had. Mostly, though, her heart was skipping beats and she felt light headed and wished that brief, sweet pressure had lasted just little bit longer. She looked at him, dazed and flustered and entirely out of things to say; especially the sort of playful witticism his words seemed to require. She missed the invitation for innuendo completely. "I....'d. Like that," she said quietly.
Shinobi couldn't help himself; he grinned. "Souka," he murmured, and, because it was quite simply not possible for him to exercise even the slightest bit of restraint, with her looking ... just so enticing, he leaned in again, finding her mouth with his and holding it there, for a few moments. A few wonderful, electric moments. Moments he really would have preferred to draw out quite extensively.
"You're a very good kisser, you know," he whispered confidentially. "Are you sure you haven't done this before?"
Some part of Paige, one of the more grounded and logical parts, was aware that this was too fast but its protests were lost beneath her heartbeat. She returned the kiss with the hesitant enthusiasm of the inexperienced until their lips parted and she stood there, feeling light-headed and wondering in some distantly curious way if he'd tasted her flavored lip gloss. Cherry Bomb, according to the label. Then she blinked, his words bringing her back down to Earth long enough for her to look embarrassed and lightly push his shoulder. "Positive, thank you very much."
Licking his lips, Shinobi grinned as he recognized the subtle taste of cherries. He did not want to push Paige; above and beyond the attraction he (most assuredly) felt for her, her good opinion of him had come to mean something, as well. Even so, he traced the line of her jaw familiarly with one fingertip, and asked, "Would you like to again?"
On speaking terms with her common sense again, Paige lifted one hand to guide his away from her face and stepped back a little. This was definitely too fast and she wasn't ready. Her lips pursed momentarily and she shook her head. "Not yet," she said in a soft but unyielding voice, unwilling to let even Shinobi's charisma change her mind, "But...I'd still like to dance with you. If you still want to dance with me."
"Another time, then, perhaps," Shinobi replied easily, betraying neither disappointment nor impatience. Instead, he reached for Paige's hand, his grin practically incandescent. "And of course I want to dance with you. I always want to dance with you. I can scarcely express how it thrills me to actually have a suitable occasion to do so."
Paige smiled with relief and then with happiness as he moved to take her hand. She let him. The touch still made her feel eager and warm all through herself, but not in the feverish way that the kiss had, and for now...that was perfect. "There doesn't seem to be a shortage of occasions around here. I...don't reckon that'll change." She paused, then gave his hand a little tug before stepping away from the wall. "And if it does...we've got to have one good dancin' song between the two of our collections. Don't you think?"
He readily followed her away from the wall, his hand tightening slightly around hers, his other moving to her waist familiarly. "Between us? I'm sure we've at least an all-night dance marathon. Though I'd be happy to settle for just a few private hours." Suddenly, he spun Paige around, and was pulling her toward the open space that served as a dance floor of sorts. "For now, though, I suppose a few minutes will do. Any excuse to keep you close."
Thinking of the meager playlist on her computer and the percentage of those songs that would make Shinobi flinch, Paige grinned guiltily but didn't argue. There could only be two outcomes: he'd finally realize what a geek she was or he'd take it upon himself to educate her in all things pop...and she thought she could probably do without either of those outcomes. Besides, she wouldn't have had the time. When he turned mid-step her she yelped with surprise, but not the displeased kind, and quickly fell into pace behind him. "You need an excuse now?" she asked, "That never seemed to stop you in the library."
"I like an excuse, when one comes readily to hand," he clarified, tugging Paige closer and beginning to sway to the faint music. "Though I suppose you're quite right: I really don't need one. Other than the sheer pleasure of your company."
It only took Paige a few steps to find her rhythm with Shinobi; she'd been practicing and now she was glad. She could focus on him and his words and not the possibility of falling over her own two feet. "I...think I like that one the best anyway," she admitted with a smile.
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Date: 2013-04-05 07:10 pm (UTC)Pietro: *facepalm*no subject
Date: 2013-04-07 11:27 pm (UTC)No less, either, but you know.
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Date: 2013-04-08 05:02 am (UTC)He's facepalming because he's becoming a SERIOUS HOMEWRECKER and it's not okay. :/
/too lazy to switch accounts bwah.
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Date: 2013-04-07 02:50 pm (UTC)Damon...says that if Shinobi's getting up at five a.m., he's going to record every second of it on his phone. Also, he definitely needs to meet this creature that his roommate's so infatuated with.
Simon is just fish-mouthing. And jealous. But we'll keep that just between us. ;0
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Date: 2013-04-07 11:29 pm (UTC)We should also do Simon/Shinobi sometime, but, honestly, Shinobi's a little less keen on meeting him.
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Date: 2013-04-08 02:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-04-11 09:06 am (UTC)