"You're beautiful," he said, walking into the light. It was morning and the cool air that hugged Arashi's skin filtered through his hair: it rippled, slightly, like fingers combed across still water. Her heart was still for a moment, her mouth open in quiet, perfect disconcertion. One hand trembled against the fabric of her skirt, the other brought a quick gesture of uncertainty -- both greeting him and dismissing his words.
Sorata smiled at her. "Want breakfast?" he asked cheerfully, not furthering that route of speech. She thought he must know she wasn't ready for it, not ready to think of the consequences and complications that allowing such words might bring, of allowing her own thoughts and emotions to enter the equation. They had an understanding between them, it seemed, unspoken: a line unbreached by both, save for his occasional queries, the questioning glances, when he looked so deeply into her she wondered if she were there at all. There were times that Arashi was nothing but the reflection of herself in his eyes. There were times when she truly believed she might be beautiful.
It frightened her, a little, the strength with which her breath could be caught by a single glance. She would find him standing in a wild rush of light and shadow, tangled in color and his own laughter, and she would have to turn her head so he would not see her watching him.
Arashi nodded slowly. "I'm a bit hungry," she acknowledged, looking up at him. She sat with her legs folded beneath her, a blanket draped hastily upon her lap. Arashi had woken in the night and, restless, wandered the sleepy building in thought. It wasn't until the first grays and blues of dawn drifted listlessly across the sky that she'd been able to still herself; she'd been sitting in the chair less than an hour when Sora, waking with the sun as though in tune with it, rose to greet her.
He grinned at her playfully, nodded. His eyes danced, flickered, and he turned, leaving her to the room and her own thoughts.
Arashi smiled, slightly, to herself. This was her secret. Her wonderful, beautiful secret. The calm that spread through her, warmed her, washed over her in thick bubbling oceans of awe. It was something she couldn't say. Something that did not demand she shout it to the world -- not because it was fragile and would break at her voice, but because it was private and it was deeper than any words she might find could convey. She could scream I love yous a thousand times over and still it would not change, alter in any degree; it would not even stir the depths of that sea.
The sky shivered, restless within itself, and Arashi watched the passing of his shadow, the last lines of sillhouette that faded from view until she, alone, felt something like a whisper trail across her skin. A breeze, brushing in through the open window.
You're beautiful, he'd said, and Arashi looked again where his form had been. She tilted her head, just slightly, catching from beyond the barest hints of his voice, ringing with a song she hadn't heard. The smile caught her again, breathless, unaware, and she turned her eyes toward the ceiling, a wide stretch of white that might have been heaven save for the single crack that snaked across it. She spoke, so softly that only the wind caught it cross her lips.
"So are you."

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