#Theres a second and sorter part coming

[everytangbo]

"The Insufferable Art of Mockery and Care"

Part 1

"Myung-Myung asked if I write a lot about him. I know he hasn't read this one, but it's a matter of time… Never thought I'd be hiding evidence.”

[And so he did, not only hiding the diary, but refusing to start a new one out of sheer self-awareness. Chung Myung didn't missed it.]

Tang Bō, often mistaken for careless due to the disorderly state of his quarters, was anything but. Even amidst the chaos, his sharp eyes missed little. Anyone who dared to spend time with him would quickly realize it was a misguided judgment. No, even within the chaos, the man's acumen was more than formidable. His apparent indifference was no more than a clever veneer. Even amidst the scattered tools, opium pipes, and stacks of parchment, nothing escaped his notice. His eagle-sharp gaze immediately caught a foreign shade of red fabric tucked on one of the cluttered shelves.

It wasn’t subtle, and that alone made him wary. His steps carried him swiftly to the shelf, his senses alert. If this was some audacious prank—or worse, an attack—he’d be ready. One hand hovered close to the blade tucked at his side while the other reached for the object. His fingers brushed against silk. The soft, unmistakable texture made him pause. He pulled it out anyway, breath hitching slightly as the fabric unraveled under his touch.

The color was striking—cinnabar, maybe carmine. A vivid shade he couldn’t ignore. The embroidery, though slightly askew from being hastily folded, revealed a crane and a turtle entwined in a simple yet elegant design. Now he was intrigued, but still cautious.The depiction wasn’t some mass-market trinket; no, this had the faint weight of deliberation behind it.

The silk wrapping was... sloppy, haphazard, almost careless, as if whoever had bundled it had no patience for proper presentation. But that, in its own way, intrigued him more than a perfect presentation would have. He recognized the intent, however clumsy, hidden beneath the folds. It took only a slight tug to undo the silk, which fell away in soft folds, revealing the object within.

The sight stopped him cold.

A logbook.

Not just any logbook, though. His defenses, so carefully maintained, crumbled as he took it in. The cover was breathtaking—a deep pink, bordering on carmine, its surface faintly shimmering as if kissed by sunlight, vibrant under his dark fingers, and the texture was impossibly smooth under his calloused fingers, an intoxicating contrast that made him hesitate to grip it too tightly, lest he damage it.

His thumb instinctively traced the stitched binding, marveling at the craftsmanship. Six holes, not the standard four, held it together, the dark green thread crisscrossing with precision. He couldn’t help but notice the shade of the thread—Tang green. His green. The edges of the spine were lined with a darker silk, adding a sturdiness that whispered of longevity, much like the crane and turtle on the wrapping.

Tang Bō flipped it open, and the sound of the pages shifting under his hands was oddly soothing. The xuan paper within was unmistakably high-quality, the kind reserved for serious calligraphy and painting, not the cheap scraps used for practice, far too fine for his idle notes or careless doodles. It was the type of material meant to preserve, not discard.

His gaze lingered on the book, which felt less like a tool and more like a relic. Every detail spoke of intention, precision, and care. This wasn’t something found by chance or some reckless purchase he’d made in a haze of opium. It was commissioned—crafted specifically for someone.— It felt strange in his hands, like something too pure, too deliberate to belong to him.

And Tang Bō, as keen as he was, up to that point had completly overlook the logbook title, written in a penmanship he has familiar with, 'Collection of a leech's ramblings', he scoffed at the sight. His scoff was loud and sharp, cutting through the silence of the room.

Only one person. Only one person had the audacity, the gall, to pair such a mocking title with such an opulent gift. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut.

“Chung Myung.”

Tang Bō was livid. So livid in fact he felt a smile drawing upon his face and a soft warm on his cheeks. That infuriating bastard.

So absorbed was he that he ignored the subtle footsteps that could be heard from the hallway. As subtle as a strutting peacock.

His fingers curled protectively around the journal, clutching it closer to his chest as if it might slip away. His face burned, the warmth spreading from his cheeks to his ears. Before he could stop himself, his free hand absently gathering the discarded silk wrapping. He felt ridiculous, cradling the thing like it was precious, yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

His door slide open.

The crane and turtle stared up at him, their meaning teasing at the edge of his mind. Repeating in his mind the old tale. He closed his eyes and sighed, the weight of the journal oddly comforting against him.

Yet that stupid title. He felt livid.

Livid enough to smile.

"That was fast..." Tang Bō whipped his head around, spotting Chung Myung leaning casually against the doorframe, holding a bottle from Bō's private stash in a hand, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his face. His posture alone exuding brazenness. "Well?"

He asked, though the glint in his eyes suggested he already knew the answer. Tang Bō tightened his grip on the journal, glaring at him.

“You—” He struggled for the right words, torn between berating him and… whatever else was clawing at his chest. “You think this is funny?”

Chung Myung shrugged, his smirk widening. “A little.”

Bō stopped a few paces away, glaring at him. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, you know that?”

Chung Myung raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What’d I do now?”

Bō held up the journal, shaking it slightly for emphasis. “This.” He jabbed a finger at the title. “Do you have any idea how insufferable you are?”

Chung Myung took a slow sip of his wine, utterly unfazed. “Pretty sure you’ve told me before.”

“And you keep proving me right.”

“Come on,” Chung Myung said, leaning back against the tree with a smug grin. “It’s a nice journal, isn’t it? You’re holding it like it’s your firstborn.”

Bō opened his mouth to retort, but the words died on his tongue. He glanced down at the journal, realizing with some embarrassment that he was holding it close, his fingers clutching the edges protectively. His grip loosened, but he didn’t let go.

“It’s too much,” he muttered, his voice softer now.

Chung Myung waved a hand dismissively. “Nah. You needed something better than that old rag you’ve been scribbling in. Consider it an upgrade.”

Bō looked at him, searching for any hint of mockery, but all he found was a quiet sort of pride. Chung Myung didn’t say it outright—he never would—but the effort behind the gift, the careful thought that went into every detail, spoke volumes.

“You’re insufferable,” Bō said again, but this time there was no bite to his wor ds.

“And you’re welcome,” Chung Myung said, his tone maddeningly smug, his eyes flicked to the journal in Bō’s hands, the way he held it close. “You’re smiling.”

“I’m not—” Tang Bō began, only to realize with horror that his lips had, in fact, curved upward. “For the record, the title’s still awful.”

Another low sip. “Awful, but true,”

Tang Bo stride closer. "Mhp. You're the one coming here eating our food, stealing my wine, taking over my bed, using our supplies. And I'm the leech?"

Chung Myung smirked, dismissing any grievances with a hand. "You're the one clinging like a leech when I'm around."

Tang Bō rolled his eyes, a gesture so dramatic it might’ve knocked his head back had he put any more force into it. “A leech?” he muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “If I’m a leech, you’re the idiot who keeps feeding me.”

Chung Myung didn’t miss a beat. “And you’re the one clinging to me like your life depends on it.” His smirk grew wider, like a cat toying with its prey. “Case in point—you're still holding that journal like a baby.”

Tang Bō felt the weight of the journal in his hands, his fingers curling tighter around it instinctively. Damn him, he thought. Chung Myung always had a way of cutting straight to the heart of things while making it feel like a joke.

Bō huffed, stepping closer, the silk wrapping clutched awkwardly in his free hand. “Speaking of this—what’s with the crane and turtle? Don’t think I didn’t notice.”

Chung Myung blinked, and for a fleeting moment, there was something behind his gaze that Bō couldn’t quite place. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by feigned indifference. “What about it?”

Bō jabbed a finger at the embroidered design. “Don’t play dumb. You picked this on purpose. Crane and turtle—. Is there something you wanna say?”

Chung Myung raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as though the concept had never crossed his mind. “Bah, a dove and a gecko, what difference does it makes whatever vermin it has? You're reading too much into it.” He shrugged, leaning against the doorframe with that infuriating nonchalance. “I told the tailor to pick something that looked nice. Maybe they were feeling inspired.”

“Liar.” Bō’s accusation came fast, sharper than he intended, but he wasn’t about to let it go. “You’re not that clueless.”

“You’re assuming I care about that nonsense.” Chung Myung took another sip from the bottle, the glint in his eyes betraying his amusement. “Maybe I just thought it looked pretty. Ever consider that?”

“Pretty?” Bō’s voice cracked, half an incredulous scoff, half a laugh. “You expect me to believe you picked out this—” he shook the silk for emphasis, “—because it was ‘pretty?’”

Chung Myung tilted his head, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips, something he disguise by taking a longer sip. “Why not? You’re always scowling, so I figured you could use something cheerful.”

“Cheerful,” Bō repeated flatly. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re annoying.” Chung Myung stepped closer, Bō could smell the liquor more acutely —damn his sharp nose, damn he didn't hate it—.

"Who's talking?" Chung Myung's tone dropping into something more familiar, more teasing leaning just slightly forward. “If I’d given you something plain, you’d complain. If I gave you something flashy, you’d say I was trying too hard. This?” He gestured lazily at the journal still in Bō’s hands. “It’s perfect because it’s already making you squirm.”

Bō flushed, the warmth creeping from his chest to his face, and he cursed himself for it. “I’m not squirming,” he muttered, averting his gaze. But even as he said it, his grip on the journal remained firm, his thumb tracing the green threads almost unconsciously.

“Sure you’re not.” Chung Myung’s grin widened, and he reached out, tapping the journal lightly with a finger. “Just say you like it”

“I—” The protest died in his throat. Bō glared at him instead, but it lacked the bite he intended. “You’re insufferable.”

“You’ve said that already.”

“Because it bears repeating.”

Chung Myung chuckled, stepping back and lifting the bottle in a mock toast. “I’m glad we’ve established that you’re predictable, clingy, and ridiculously oversentimental. The trifecta.”

Tang Bō opened his mouth to retort, but the words didn’t come. Instead, the warmth in his chest swelled, pushing past his bravado, settling into something… soft. Foreign. He hated it, and yet—he didn’t. Not entirely.

He was, in fact, a clingy leech. And maybe—just maybe—he didn’t mind.

With a resigned sigh, he clutched the journal tighter and muttered, “For the record, if I’m a leech, it’s only because you’re stupid enough to let me stick around.”

Chung Myung’s laugh was light, carefree, and entirely unbothered. The wine in his breath hitting more intensely. “You’re not wrong.”

Bō didn’t miss the way Chung Myung’s gaze lingered, just for a moment, on the way he held the journal close to his chest. And though the infuriating bastard said nothing more, Bō could still feel something hanging in the air between them.

He stared at the title again. He was, in fact, a clingy leech, if only for him. While Chung Myung, he turned around, unable to keep his own smile at bay.

[shintorikhazumi]

“Taken”

 A/N: Coz Khazumi is now sorta... Taken? teehee ;P Kidding... or not? Kidding Love, I am, I am :) ... If you ever see this. I’m dead.

AU? Maybe.. not magical.. pretty sure... hmm... college? Bubbly by Colbie is one of my all-time favorite sonnngssss. Also Last Chance by MYMP <3

Warning... Rushed? Super Rushed. SO... bad pacing... and might not be good? But still...

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

Tapping her foot against the wooden floor paneling of the semi-rustic designed coffee shop, Diana gave her final sigh of impatience before giving up on all this waiting, her cup-o-joe long since drained of its content.

So her date was going to be a no-show, she supposed, disappointed, mad, and sad.

Years of sorting out feelings and such, all gone to waste in just a matter of days. This very special first date, ruined. Diana’s single life... continued.

“Hey Lovely thing, don’t scrunch up your brows. They make you lose some of that charm.”

With a groan, Diana stood abruptly, surprising the flirty fellow customer of the shop. She didn’t need another buffoon to aid her in thinning out her patience.

Leaving a few bills on the table, she walked to the direction of the door, but was quickly blocked by the man’s arm. Diana immediately got a small whiff of his... masculinity... uncontrolled. Eyes narrowed, she glared him down, earning a small whimper to which she inwardly smirked.

“Out of my way.” She commanded.

“Hey now darling,” The male said, putting up a bravado that seemed to annoy Diana even further as he did not do as she wished. Couldn’t he see she just wanted to get out? To not remember this place, the reason why she was here? He spoke up again, to her immense irritation. “I noticed you’ve been alone for some time. Jerk stood you up? Got no class, that guy, but maybe...”

Diana had to lean back as the man seemed to lack any sense of personal space... and personal hygiene as well, it seemed.

“I could show you what a real man is like.”

Diana threw up in her mouth a bit, flicking the man unashamed on the forehead to get him to back off. “Well, if I think about it...” She saw that hopeful, lustful glint in his eyes, smiling slightly before pulling a glare. “... NO.”

Trudging away from the gaping fish of a boy she just rejected, Diana was surprised to have her wrist grasped in a tight hold, now feeling as if she was being forced (which she was) to go along.

“Now listen here, Missy, I don’t care whoever you are or whatever, but-”

“Let go.”

“Huh?”

Murmurs were springing up in the small cafe as Diana’s intense glare was fixated on the intimidated man, many eyes on the scene.

“Let. Go.” Diana reiterated, patience thinning out rapidly. “Or else I’ll call someone to ‘help’ me out.”

“Tch.” 

Smiling victoriously, Diana whipped about, hand free as she exited the small establishment, walking along the pretty much empty sidewalk of this unfamiliar town, city.

Having graduated from Highschool with flying colors, being offered a full-time scholarship at one of the country’s most distinguished institutions was quite the honor. Diana graciously accepted seeing as her dream of being a medical practitioner could be achieved here, in this place. She was a step closer to living that dream.

Happy as she was for this, nothing could beat the feeling of knowing that her best friend, someone who she truthfully could not believe she would refer to as such when they first met, a girl- Kagari Atsuko, was here with her in this town.

Having met during their first year in middle school, Diana admitted they clashed far too often, being polar opposites, sitting on opposite sides of the spectrum.

Akko was a heated ball of determination and fiery dreams. Diana was a cold and resolute, calculating person, never letting many close. It came as a surprise when one day they, this bickering pair, fighting, arguing, debating all the days away, suddenly became the best and dearest of friends- but that story shall be told another time.

As much as Diana said ‘best friend’, her feelings for Akko certainly outgrew the title.

Into their freshman year of high school, Akko, the lazy, tardy caterpillar coming to pick up the early-bird Diana Cavendish at the latter’s house in her fresh uniform, a smile on her lovely face and a small bouquet of flowers in hand as ‘Congratulations for getting into high school’,- or so she said, was a heart-throbbing surprise for the heiress.

Having her favorites all arranged in an eye-catching display, their scents filling Diana’s senses as she took in the warmth of Akko’s sudden hug made Diana realize a few things.

She never wanted to part from Akko.

---------

Into their sophomore year, Diana was granted the pleasure of discovering one of Akko’s well-kept secrets, something she never knew Akko had towards her. Nevertheless, this secret was pleasantly shocking.

Being a part of the student council, Diana always left school late, and Akko, being the ever-caring best friend, waited for her each afternoon religiously, seated in the classroom alone as the sun set, always granting Diana a gorgeous picture to come back from an exhausting meeting to.

One particularly stressing afternoon, Diana walked slowly down the halls of the empty school, body slouching uncharacteristically of her as she made the final curve before reaching her classroom.

The sound of a soft guitar solo playing filled the empty building, and Diana listened carefully, feeling her tiredness wash away, before her body relaxed completely by another sound joining the previous one. A voice. Such a sweet voice.

“The rain is fallin' on my window pane”

As if the heavens were in sync with the singers emotions, a soft rain pelted against the large glass windows, softly enough to not disturb the number.

“But we are hidin' in a safer place

Under covers stayin' dry and warm...

You give me feelings that I adore.

It starts in my toes, and I crinkle my nose Where ever it goes I always know That you make me smile, please, stay for a while now Just take your time-”

Diana regretted clapping that moment. The song came to an abrupt stop as Akko’s head whipped around, eyes turned to the door and expressing panic and dread.

“Sorry.” Diana quickly spoke, hands still frozen in place. “I just had to-”

“N-no! It’s fine!” Akko replied, getting off the desk she was seated on, scrambling to fix up the guitar she managed to find lying around and returning it carefully, still seeming to be in a panicky state. “I just- you’re done already... umm... that... this-”

“It was really nice.” Diana said referring to the same thing Akko was referring to.

A second of silence slipped by, the two girls content on just sharing a look.

“Thanks.”

------

From that time on, Diana encouraged Akko to let this talent out. Although hesitant, Akko shared to her that she had been studying guitar since she was in third grade. Her first teacher was her father, she had said.

Diana suddenly realized why Akko seemed in a rush on wednesday afternoons. She had lessons for guitar then. The blonde had also inquired if Akko ever took voice lessons which the sorter girl denied, saying she didn’t have a good enough voice to need them (something Diana strongly disagreed with).

But reaching their senior year, their third and final year, choices had to be made. Career choices.

As Diana was a member of a long-standing line of medical personalities, she was very medically inclined and was to proceed along those lines, inheriting her families hospital. Akko, on the other hand, was unsurprisingly offered a scholarship in a farther town for a music program she had always wanted to join.

Despite being happy that her dear friend was acknowledged for her brilliance, Diana was torn as this would mean they would be apart. 

Smitten by Akko after all these years, she had wanted to confess and  possibly... have Akko as more than a friend after and into their adult life, maybe living together(?) if that wasn’t pushing it.

But Diana was to attend a nearby national college, her family’s alma mater. They were going to be separated for too long.

And so a prom passed, exams, final requirements, the grand day of recognition and proceeding to the next stage of life, and it was graduation night.

There was a party thrown by Amanda O’Neill, a celebration for their class and everyone was invited. Diana was not a very loud person, and certainly not a party-goer. Opting to sneak out into any quiet place, she found a room, occupied by one best friend, a soft bed, and a guitar.

A sense of deja vu washed over the girl as they both found themselves caught in a stare-off, frozen, before Diana managed the words...

“Play for me?”

------

Akko ended up playing a few songs, Diana sometimes humming along, the pair all smiles, and subtle gestures, touches. Diana thought it was now or never.

“Akko-”

“Diana-”

Apparently, they shared the same sentiment, eyes conveying every single thought they had.

“Let me sing for you.”

  This is my last dance with you This is my only chance to do all I can do To let you know that what I feel for you is real This is the last chance for us This is the moment that I just cannot let end Before I know that theres a chance were more than friends

So don't let go Just make it last all night long This is my last chance to make you mine

“Diana... I love you.”

--------

A long discussion followed that night and Diana found herself with a girlfriend, the happiest lady alive. And it could only get better as she received a full-time offer from the school that also had Akko’s music program. It was a miracle that she would not allow to go to waste as she thanked the heavens for this blessing.

And this was how they ended up in the same unfamiliar town, the same city.

And Diana walked aimlessly still, just along the sidewalk until she found an empty park, beautiful in its peace and tranquility.

Seating herself on a cold bench, Diana thought on their relationship.

It had been about two months since they got together, but the reason for this meeting today was that they had yet to have their first date as both people found themselves incredibly busy over the course of the break, barely having enough time to sit and chat with all the packing and paperwork for moving and the campus and dorms. Diana’s family also had a vacation abroad.

Saying Diana was looking forward to this day was an understatement. She was far too excited, she needed this.

Alas, Akko was late, the two not sharing a dorm room due to different programs, apparently a no-show, and Diana simply wanted to cry, her day ruined.

She felt it. A drop of water touching her skin, splashing it’s sadness on her like a tin bomb. Slowly this drizzles intensity increased, Diana being forced to get up from her seat and seek shelter.

This rain made her even sadder as it was the time she needed comfort the most, and yet nothing shielded her from this sorrow, the skies crying with her-

...pup.

It was that kind of sound, Diana thought. How this particular cloth when hit by rain sounded. It was an umbrella. Diana knew it that it could have just been another kind soul, but it wouldn’t hurt to hope? Looking up with a name on her lips, “Akk-” Diana frowned, seeing he man from earlier, his gaze stopping her words from escaping.

A smirk formed on his face, and Diana knew this was no act of kindness. “Thought you could get away after putting me on the spot like earlier?” He growled, hand grabbing the woman’s wrist.

“Have you been following me?!”

Wordlessly, Diana felt herself being tugged into a particular direction, her protests falling on deaf ears, her yells muted by the rain.

“Help, someone!” Even if she had a strong enough will, a man’s physique was stronger by nature. Especially this one’s. “Help!”

“Quiet!” 

Without much choice as she was being dragged, only one thing entered Diana’s mind, and heart.

“AKKO!” 

“Ladies should be treated with care.” A voice said coldly, threateningly. “Especially ones that are taken.”

Diana felt herself effortlessly pulled into a warm protective embrace, no more hurtful hold on her wrist as the contact with the man ceased. Finding herself under a different umbrella, Diana’s eyes tried to focus and she saw another hand, one holding her captor’s hand in a way that would certainly force him to let go of her.

“When they say let go,” The voice full of warning suddenly had a temperature drop, sounding so terrifying, ensuring nightmares. “Let. Go.” 

Watching the chap released and running in the distance, Diana fond herself releasing a breath she did not realize she was holding. Now that she as sure she was safe, her heart thumped loudly against her chest, now growing conscious of this point-zero proximity she shared with her... girlfriend.

Not that t wasn’t alright, just that the heiress was always embarrassed by these sorts of things, still trying to accustom herself to them.

“Are you alright?” That familiar loving voice whispered into her ear, an arm wrapping around her waist as the other hand held up an umbrella for the pair to share. Diana registered a new sound. It was a worried voice, a sorry voice. A voice that regretted, a cracked voice.

Nodding silently as Akko hugged her from behind, Diana hoped she could feel the gesture, not knowing what to say or do. Honestly, she was still rather upset that Akko had not come to their date. As much as she wanted to turn around an return the embrace, she couldn’t. She couldn’t bear the negative feelings she held towards Akko at that moment. She couldn’t even hold the hand on her stomach that was panting calming patterns to soothe her.

“I’m sorry.”

Words were meaningless to Diana. But she did need an explanation, and for that, she needed those meaningless words. Yet, she couldn’t form them for herself. It frustrated her.

“I’m so sorry, Diana.” She only nodded in response. “Please... forgive me.” Akko’s voice as cracked and Diana knew she was now crying. A warmer wetness was spreading on her shoulder. “So, so sor-”

“Why.”

“Huh?” 

Managing that one word was already far too difficult for Diana, so she was glad that Akko had heard it and began explaining.

“Diana, I... you see... my mother called- oh, but I know this has been something you’ve been waiting for! I’m so sorry! This is no excuse to ruin our very first date, but... my mom said that my dad go sick, but- oh he go well now, so they were celebrating and... and... they sent me some stuff... and actually... along with those... umm... I can’t believe I left it at home... you were supposed to have- where is it?!”

The hand around her waist momentarily retreated into Akko’s pocket as she heard jingles of keys and loose change and paper. She flinched a bit as she heard skin slapping against skin, Akko hitting her forehead.

“I’m sorry I’m so dumb!” The heiress felt herself being taken by the hand, her freezing hand being covered by Akko’s warm one as she was taken back into more familiar parts of town, walking for minutes in silence.

 Reaching this place, Diana raised a brow as she was being guided into the music department of their school, weaving through empty halls until they finally reached an open and empty room.

“Are we allowed to-”

“Oh don’t worry!” Diana’s question was answered before it was completed. “This is my designated practice room so...” Diana watched as her lover went about, grabbing a cushioned chair and letting Diana sit down as Akko went to a closet and brought out fresh towels, surprisingly. “Don’t ask why we have these here. It’s a musician emote thing.” Akko shrugged, not handing Diana the cloth, but going behind her and gently drying out her hair after placing one on Diana’s lap which the blonde used to dry her body.

After being considerably dry, Diana watched Akko go grab another towel and dry herself off before going around a corner in the room and emerging a few minutes later with warm chocolate milk.

“Again, don’t ask.” She chuckled, handing the cup over to Diana who gratefully accepted.

And now, as they were both settled, Diana in her chair and Akko on the floor in front of her, silence resumed.

“How- how is your father?” Diana tried. She was trying. To make their situation less tense and back to normal. She now knew Akko hadn’t done this on purpose and that it was just some inevitable mishap.

“Hm? O-oh. As I said, he’s better... they never told me he was sick... but well, while celebrating, mom said he got drunk and stumbled into my room and... he found... some stuff.” Akko said his last part with a blush and Diana was now curious.

“Stuff?” She was about to stand from her seat to get closer to Akko, but she was stopped and made to sit back down as Akko’s expressive eyes lit up in the way that told Diana she had something in mind.

So again, the Cavendish could only watch as Akko got up, heading off to the side of the room where Diana spotted a guitar lying around.

While she was left to wonder, Akko was left to be nervous, her fingers quivering and not from the cold. Diana saw all this, even as the musician was sucking in a deep breath before her eyes widened in recognition at a familiar intro being played, before Akko’s voice charmed her in was so marvelous.

“The rain is fallin' on my window pane”

“But we are hidin' in a safer place

Under covers stayin' dry and warm...

You give me feelings that I adore.”

Akko, from her standing position, got on one knee, playing closer to Diana as the medical student remained mesmerized, drowning on those warm pools. 

It starts in my toes, and I crinkle my nose Where ever it goes I always know

Diana giggled as Akko did Crinkle her nose, bumping it against Diana’s gently causing the girl to blush.

. That you make me smile, please, stay for a while now Just take your time wherever you go.”

Diana gasped as Akko drew closer, her eyes now gazing on Diana’s lips as she sang the next part almost in a whisper, guitar being strummed softly.

“I've been asleep for a while now You tucked me in just like a child now 'Cause every time you hold me in your arms I'm comfortable enough to feel your warmth...”

 “Diana...”

Her breath hitched in her throat as Diana’s eyes shifted between looking at Akko’s lips, to gazing into her eyes, mouth dry, words caught. “... Akko...”

“Sing for me?” Having Akko kiss her nose affectionately was unfair, a sort of bribe, Diana would say, nevertheless, as Akko started on the last verse, she consented to the request and sang.

“It starts in my soul, and I lose all control When you kiss my nose, the feelin' shows 'Cause you make me smile, baby, just take your time now Holdin' me tight.. Akko....”

“Yes?” Akko’s hands stilled against the instrument, but Diana could still hear the accompaniment playing on. “What is it?”

“Wherever... Wherever... wherever you go.” Diana sang, to Akko’s pleasant surprise.

“ Wherever, wherever, wherever you go~.” Akko replied, bumping her forehead against Diana’s, singing in response. “Wherever you go I always know.“ She murmured, lips doing what the song said in its final words.

    'Cause you make me smile

“Diana, I’m sorry for being late. Sorry for ruining our first date, sorry-”

“Shhh...” A finger on her lips stopped Akko from further rambling. “It’s okay. Smile?”

And she did.

Diana gasped, Akko putting her guitar to the side and finally pulling something out of her pocket. A diamond necklace, one with the words, ‘Diana, Love and Forever’ engraved on it.

“Akko?”

“You said you wanted it... when we thought we were going to be separated... in high school.”

“Akko...” Diana covered her mouth as tears flowed down, barely registering Akko’s words of planning to give it to Diana on their first date and her mom sending it over because she left it at home. All she heard an knew for sure was-

“I love you.”

...

“I love you too.”

A/N: Too rushed. NO time... Ciao! Gotta runnnnn shoot....TEll me how it was?

~Shintori Khazumi