#hehhehe...

Not a moment later, he heard a slow yawn and saw her sit up. Small hands balled into fists, she rubbed her eyes before pushing her hair back from her face and looking straight at him. A light shiver went down his spine.

He'd been caught. His entire plot of giving her the silent treatment until she told him she was sorry just went down the toilet-- now, she knew he wasn't really that angry at her. He was surprised, though, that she woke up; usually, she would sleep through his midnight visits, mostly because he would never bother to venture in further than sitting at the window.

It must have been silent for at least five minutes before she quietly whispered, tone muddled with sleep, “Well? Are you?” Lips curled into a small and knowing smile, she slowly climbed out of her bed, her ruffled-up nightgown flowing down perfectly straight once she stood up. Slowly walking over to him, she clasped her hands behind her back, keeping her eyes locked to his.

The silence was deafening, her gaze was paralyzing, and Yato didn't know exactly what was so different from usual. She has stared at him many times before, walked to him many times before, and he's even seen her in her gown many times before. But what made this so different? What made it so the moment she spoke to him he couldn't move, and the moment she looked at him he couldn't take his eyes off of her own?

Before he knew it, she was right in front of him, bending slightly in order to be eye level with him. All of a sudden, it was like everything had become loud-- her heartbeat, her breathing, her gaze... they were all ringing in his ears.

A soft intake of breath, “Ya-to.” The god gripped the window seal just a little bit tighter, opting to finally shift his eyes from her own.

“...You wouldn't have the time to listen if I were to tell you.” It was the first sentence he had spoken to her that week, the first sentence that wasn't muddled by scoffs or grunts or scowls. It left the young woman staring at him again, but this time with surprise as she went over the words over and over again in her mind.

There was a pause, and then realization flooded her face. Oh. Oh. Everything made sense, then, how he was pouting and irritated and mumbling. He was angry that-- “...I was spending time with another guy?” The moment she said it, he bristled, and turned his face to look away from her even more. His cheeks were heating up and he was obviously getting antsy... He was jealous.

Granted, the 'guy' was a lab partner for a project that costs quite a bit of her final grade-- practically all week she had been with him, working late to make sure every single thing about the project was perfect. Many times she had canceled plans with Yato and Yukine, explaining the situation, and, now that she thought about it, each time Yato had grown more and more irritated.

He was irritated because he didn't get to spend as much time with her.

The thought made her smile return, her rose eyes shining with mirth. The thought that a god would be jealous of anyone (or any human, for that matter) was humorous at the least; she couldn't suppress the giggles that begun to fall in droves from her lips.

Yato immediately turned back to look at her, gaze incredulous, probably wondering why she was laughing so hard. This made her laugh even harder, her arms going to hold her stomach. “That's... ridiculous. He is a lab partner.” And he paused then, paused from hopping out of the window and escaping his embarrassment. She looked at him again, the remnants of laughter still in her eyes. “You won't get replaced, Yato. By anyone.” It escaped her how he could think that she would implore the same type of relationship with someone else that she had with Yato; it was unfathomable.

He bristled again at her word choice, replaced ringing in his ears. She wouldn't replace him, wouldn't forget him. The sentence repeated in his head over and over again, like a new mantra he never wanted to forget.

It was silent again for so long after she spoke that Hiyori was starting to get antsy herself-- absentmindedly, she wondered how his eyes could stay so bright no matter what light he was in. As he stared, his cerulean eyes stayed piercing despite the midnight darkness that was flooding in. It was nothing less than breathtaking.... Her hands gripped at the sides of her nightgown, Hiyori not quite sure what she was waiting for.

“Not just that,” He stepped down from the window, then taking a step towards her. The positions were switched-- now she was the flustered one and he had control of this situation somehow. She reasoned that he must have been thinking about what she said during that time of his silence. That, and he was thinking about what he wanted to do.

He must have decided.

Another step closer, and she instinctively took a step back. Those sharp eyes narrowed, and he continued, “I want to be possessive.” The sentence was confusing.

“...'Want?' What do you mean want...” Hiyori didn't realise he really was taller than her until he bent down so they were eye level, his body close to hers and face even closer.

She attempted to look away, but his thin fingers lightly took hold of her chin and turned her gaze back to him. Once she was looking at him again, he placed his arms over her shoulders in an attempt to keep her right there. “I want to say you're mine,” The young woman had no idea where this personality of his that she had only seen glimpses of was coming from-- she had spent time with other men before, she had even gone on dates every once in a while. The past week, though, she had been busier than ever, her attention almost constantly being taken by working on that project. “I want to make it so I get rid of all this anger and jealousy. Get rid of it.”

Her words came out before she could realise what she was saying, “Like I said, there's no reason for it,” What was she saying, why was she-- “I... am yours.” His eyes widened, she felt him stiffen. Why'd she say that, what did it even mean. She softly repeated the short sentence, as if she was attempting to understand it herself. The implications behind it, the security behind it, seemed to flood her senses and make it seem like Yato was the only other person in the room.

Even he repeated it himself, obviously surprised, taken aback. Was he not expecting her to accept his statement? Did he think she would go against it? As if to reinforce her position, Hiyori’s hand rose to cup his cheek, his dark hair tickling the tips of her fingers. “I am yours, and..” Her fingers threaded through his hair, and she continued lightly, “...you are mine.”

His silence was making her antsy again, her toes curling on the carpet as he seemed to be processing the information. “Hiyori, you…” It was another set of firsts, both statements-- she was okay with being his, but she also wanted him. It was a surge of pride and a surge of… something else he couldn’t quite place. A pause, and she opened her mouth to start speaking-- likely to encourage him to finish his sentence-- but he couldn’t help himself, he fell into the temptation starting to brew in the bottom of his chest and pressed his lips to hers.

The first reaction she had was a shiver going down her spine, her hands slipping from his face to rest on his shoulders. She wasn’t surprised by the action, for some inane reason, but she felt as if it would have been more of a surprise if he hadn’t kissed her then.

Yato must have still been unsure of everything that was going on, because when they separated (she still had to breathe) he gave her a look of extreme wonder, confusion, and incredulousness, his bright eyes searching for something in her flushed face.

Hiyori only had one question. “Why did…” An exhale of breath, her cheeks reddened just a bit more, “...you stop?” He stuttered for a moment, so much so that the young woman stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him again.

Her instigation must have been the push he needed, because he pulled an inch away only in favor of muttering against her lips, “Because I thought you'd need to breathe.” before pulling her back, fingers tight against her waist.

This time, it was much different, not nearly as calm as the first two. She was breathless, heated, her cheeks were red and her knees were weak. He was taking the whole 'sweeping off your feet' thing to an entirely different level; her body was becoming weightless and the only feelings she could process were his hands on her hips and his tongue sweeping against her lips. They broke apart once, twice, if only to breathe for the smallest of moments before they would continue right where they left off.

“What...” She still hadn't caught her breath, she was still heaving slightly as her eyes searched his for the answer to a question she hadn't asked yet. “...is happening...?” Yato seemed to ponder the inquiry, maybe for a minute or two.

There was something he was itching to prove to her, to show her, that he had yet to fully understand. All he knew was in those moments he was kissing her, all her attention was on him; every bone in her body, every centimeter of skin was reacting to him. That pride was coming back, and he wanted more of it.

Pressing his lips to the side of her neck, he relished in the shiver he felt go down her spine before he murmured, “We're going to seal the deal.” Hiyori's mind was so hazy from the minutes prior that she almost didn't know what he was talking about-- a couple stutters of confusion on her part, and then...

“Oh.” Just a little more processing. “...O-Oh.” The lips resting against her neck pulled into a grin, and Hiyori found her fingers tightening their grip on the other's jersey for a split second before she took a step away from him.

Panic set in-- she was against it, she was against this-- and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and his hands balled up. He kept his eyes on her, though, and watched as she turned around to slowly walk from in front of the window seal in favor of sitting on the bed. Her cheeks were red and her bare toes were curling again. Yato only stood and watched, confused, until-- “W-Well?”

A single finger of hers, motioning for him to come to her, was the only signal he needed. A split second later he was kissing her again, laying her back and pressing her body into the bed with urgency like they only had a day to live.

Confidence, he was surging with confidence at every little noise, twitch, and action Hiyori made as his hands dancing along her body, fingers deftly unbuttoning the offending nightgown. The insecurities of whether or not she still noticed him all seemed silly-- stupid even-- to the god at that point. Her entire body was at his fingertips, she was listening to every word he spoke.

But maybe, that wasn't the best thing to him; maybe, the best thing was that she wanted his attention equally, that she wanted him to the same degree he wanted her. That took noticing and consideration. Also... value. She saw value in him. It felt so good, so euphoric, to not have to worry about his worth to her-- no questions needed to be asked and no answered needed to be given.

Yato's movements stopped, his mind was caught up in a realization he's waited years for. He knew she was confused at the sudden pause, but for the moment he didn't care.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a moment to lay his head against her chest, the sound of her heartbeat matching the syllable timing of his whispered words. “Thank you, so much.”