It had only been two minutes since their arrival, but Hana could already tell that this party was going to be memorable.

With her hand clasped tightly around Akaashi's so she wouldn't lose him in the crowd, Hana let herself be guided between the drunken students dancing to the rhythm of the blaring music. The young man seemed to know the place like the back of his hand, slaloming between people without the slightest hesitation. He seemed barely interested in his surroundings, stopping only to greet to a few of his acquaintances, while the brunette didn't know where to look at.

He'd taken her to a theme party.

In fifteen years of existence, Hana had attended a good number of student night, but she had never been to a theme party. She remembered that she briefly mentioned it during one of these special moments with her partner, but she didn't expect him to take note, nor to surprise her by bringing her to one.

Phosphorescence. That was the word that set the mood.

The vast majority of guests had pretty patterns on their skin, made with turquoise, fluorescent paint that lit up with light in the dark. They ranged from designs worthy of the greatest works of art to simple, colorful strokes that were no less impressive. Every bit of the guests' uncovered had a luminescent arabesque. Face, arms, legs, sometimes even back and torso. Hana's eyes flickered rapidly from one person to the next, eager to observe as much as possible in the allotted time. And if Akaashi's grip hadn't dragged her along, the figure skater would most likely have remained in the same place for quite some time, observing the beautiful angel wings a girl had painted on her back.

Hana wondered if she, too, could find a bit of that painting somewhere, so she could fit in with the mass of revelers. Her thoughts were cut short, however, when a shot glass appeared in front of her, like an invitation to dip her lips into it. The young woman straightened her head and saw that not only had they arrived at the bar, but that his gaze was already and intensely focused on her. The blue of his eyes seemed greatly diminished by the black of his pupil, reminding her that he was already well ahead of her. This had to be remedied.

Hana gave him a pretty smile as she grabbed the glass, brushing the boy's fingers as she went, and moments later he handed her salt and a slice of lemon. And when they were both ready, their glasses clinked together before their contents were emptied in one gulp.

Neither flinched as the salt assaulted their tongues or the tequila shot burned their throats, but Hana couldn't help but wince as she bit into the citrus. The brunette still hated the "lemon step". She didn't even know why she'd offered this drink to the young man, when clearly he was the only one here to appreciate this damn lemon slice.

Fortunately for her, after the third consecutive shot, the citrus taste disappeared completely, her taste buds too numb to feel the acidity. A sigh of contentment crossed her lips as a fog crept into her mind. A fog she knew as much as she loved it, and which always had the gift of putting all those unwanted thoughts on pause. Right now, Hana felt as if she were on cloud nine, free and detached from all those Tellurian anxieties, and nothing else mattered to her.

—Hoshino, let's go.

Hana didn't even have time to turn her head towards her interlocutor before she was already walking after him, dragged back through the crowd of students. Eventually, they reached a corridor which was a little less crowded than the main room, but the young man didn't stop there. They forked left, then right, and finally found themselves climbing a spiral staircase. Hana could no longer contain either her questioning or silly giggles.

—Hey, where are you taking me? Asked the brunette in a voice that was slightly higher pitched than usual. Do you want us to get lost forever ? Wow, this painting is terrifying, she commented, pointing to a picture hanging on the wall.

Keisuke couldn't help laughing at the skater's attitude. In one line, she had displayed a wider range of emotion than she had since the beginning of their relationship. As on their very first meeting, the boy could only observe how much more expressive the alcohol seemed to make her feel. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, her mouth always flashed an adorable smile, and she was much more talkative, saying whatever crossed her mind without the slightest filter. By contrast, the sober version of Hoshino seemed to carry all the world's ills on her frail little shoulders.

—Akaashi, what's wrong? Exclaimed the brunette, tilting her head to one side. Is there something on my face?

—Nah, you're good, the young man replied quietly, giving her a small smile. I was just thinking.

—Don't think too much, it'll hurt your last non-intoxicated brain cells, Hana retorted slyly with a superior air.

Keisuke stopped in front of a door and turned his face towards the young woman. He raised an eyebrow at her affront, both amused and - secretly - stung in his ego.

—Are you really saying that now, when you'll be begging in me for some later? The audacity.

—Wait, wait, exclaimed Hana, rolling her eyes. You brought some here?

She didn't get a chance to hear a reply as the young man ignored her royally, content to lock them both in the room they'd just reached. Hana opened her mouth to protest, but her gaze was instantly drawn to the phosphorescent make-up kit scattered on the table, and she fell silent, her eyes suddenly sparkling with euphoria as she already anticipated things. She couldn't wait to see what her creativity and skill could do with three drinks in her system.

—So cool, Hana blurted out as she approached her obsession. How did you know it was here? She asked the young man, glancing over her shoulder.

—While you were daydreaming, I ran into some classmates who gave me the heads-up, retorted Akaashi, coming up behind her.

The younger girl laughed, but didn't dwell on the remark, far too eager to transform her body into a work of art.

—Now I understand why you told me to dress lightly, joked the young woman, sliding her jacket over her shoulders. It makes sense, now.

Hana discarded both her jacket and her bag, placing them on a chair near the table. With her hands now free, the brunette wasted no time to grab the first brush she could find and dipped the tip into the shiny mixture.

Keisuke, in far less of a hurry than his companion, took the time to quietly scan the room, looking for a window to open in preparation for his next activities. He intended to smoke here, in peace and quiet, away from the usual profiteers attracted by the smell of smoke. Alcohol wasn't his favorite thing, so he wanted to enjoy his joint and a few fags before heading back downstairs. And that was the perfect moment, because not only did the place they were currently in seem propitious, but his intuition told him they were going to be there for a long time.

And he certainly didn't think so because Hoshino had been standing perfectly still for the past two minutes, brush suspended halfway between her face and the paint palette, eyes frowning in digitized concentration at a small pocket mirror. The young man chuckled.

—Is everything going the way you want it to, Hoshino? He teased as he opened the room's only window.

A draught of fresh air rushed into the room, and Hana turned her full attention to the smoker. He was sitting on the windowsill behind her, a cigarette already moving back and forth between his lips and fingers. One of his knees was twitching frantically - probably due to his unquenchable nicotine craving - but what caught the young woman's attention were his clear eyes. They were watching her again with that singular intensity, hidden behind a few strands of his black hair that the breeze was having fun dancing with. It took some effort to regain the ability to speak.

—I wanted to draw a butterfly on my arm, but it's not going accordingly to the plan, the young woman admitted, presenting the beginnings of her work of art to the boy. It's more difficult than I imagined, she added, laughing softly. Or maybe I'm forgetting that I suck at drawing.

Keisuke took a long drag on his cigarette before quietly stepping down from his perch. He approached the brunette and, with his hand that wasn't holding the orange tube, grabbed a finer brush lying on the table. He sat down on the chair opposite to her and waved to her to come closer.

—Are you left-handed? Hana wondered as she saw him holding the tool with his other hand.

—Ambidextrous, corrected Akaashi, giving her a proud smile. Do you mind? He asked, pointing with his chin to the butterfly she'd painted on herself.

Hana nodded positively and moved a little closer to the young man. She held out her arm, and he began to draw new lines on her skin. A shiver ran through her, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep still. The brush tickled her much more than when it was in her possession.

In the room they were locked in, the music from downstairs reached them in a muffled way, and Hana suddenly became aware of how abnormally fast her pulse was beating. With this semblance of silence, that was all she could hear. Her heart was beating in unison with the distant sound of the bass, and she wondered if the young man's heart was racing too. He was so obsessed with his task that nothing seemed to disturb him. In fact, Hana was amazed to see him drawing lines without trembling, especially knowing that he was far from being sober. His lines were even and much more confident than the ones she'd made. And when he stopped running the brush over her skin, the young woman could only marvel at the result.

—Wow, you really made it up, she exclaimed, observing the butterfly. When you said you liked to draw, you forgot to mention that you were gifted.

The compliment drew a chuckle from him, almost suffocating him with an overpowering cloud of smoke. Once it passed, he removed his sweatshirt which was making him a little too hot, remaining in a simple T-shirt.

—Could you paint more things ? Asked Hana, her eyes shining with anticipation as she pointed to herself.

—Sure, agreed Akaashi, switching brushes. But I don't want to break my back by leaning like before.

Hana considered several possibilities, but none seemed suitable. Her chair was already touching the boy's, and she couldn't see herself standing still in front of him for long minutes. So she did what seemed the most logical and sat astride the dark-haired man's lap. He looked surprised for a moment, but an amused smile soon took possession of his lips.

—I wasn't thinking about that option, but I'm fine with it, declared Akaashi, taking a last drag on his cigarette.

—It's more practical, she argued, giving him a slightly teasing look. Besides, it's unusual that I get to look down on you.

The two giggled foolishly, and Akaashi discarded the cigarette end, tossing it carelessly out of the open window. With one hand, he picked up a new brush, while with the other, he instinctively steadied the young woman by sliding it up her thigh, to the very edge of her skirt. His gaze stayed there a little too long, and Hana soon realized what was captivating him. Indeed, sitting like that, the fabric masking the purplish stain on her thigh was no longer hiding anything.

—I fell badly during today's training session, she explained, a little embarrassed. But it's more impressive than painf...don't press on it like that !

—What a liar, laughed the boy with amusement, earning him a well-deserved pat on the back of the head. All right, hold it right there, he ordered as a warning.

As far as his weed-fogged mind would allow, the young man channeled his full attention into painting something harmonious on his comrade. He began by drawing more spirals to dress up the butterfly on her arm, then moved on to the other side. From time to time, he could feel her trembling under the stroke of his brush, especially when he went over her collarbones or throat, more sensitive areas of her epidermis, but he did his best not to let it show on her features. He wanted to do things properly. Keisuke took the challenge she'd set him far more seriously and diligently than he could have imagined.

—Hoshino stop fidgeting, warned Akaashi, giving her a quick look of annoyance.

—Sorry, giggled the woman, biting her tongue to keep from laughing. Are you almost finished? She inquired with interest.

—Yeah, he confirmed, stepping back to contemplate his work. I think I'm done. Hold on, he said, grabbing his cell phone. I'd like to take a picture, if you don't mind.

—Make it quick then, I want to see too.

The flash blinded him.

—I've got it.

Without wasting another second, Hana grabbed the small pocket mirror lying on the table to observe her reflection, and a new smile appeared on her lips as she discovered the various fluorescent tattoos that now marked her skin. She now looked like a mystical character straight out of a video game.

—Have you ever thought of applying for Geidai? The young woman said, putting the mirror back where she'd found it before returning her gaze to his. It would be a waste not to take advantage of your talent, Akaashi.

He didn't reply immediately, taking the time to swap his mobile phone for the joint he'd rolled earlier. He wedged it between his lips, searched his cargo pockets for a lighter, then lit the tip. His lungs filled with smoke, once, twice, and his muscles relaxed gently. He turned his head to exhale, never taking his eyes off the young woman still sitting on his lap.

The times she smiled like that were too rare for him to miss.

—Yeah, I've already thought about it, confessed Akaashi quietly. But I've already got another career ahead of me, so guess I can forget about it.

—You're referring to your father's pharmaceutical company.

It wasn't really a question, but he still nodded. Hana held her breath.

—And... you're okay with this ? Asked the skater in an uncertain voice.

—Not really, retorted the boy with disconcerting honesty. But I don't really have a choice, he added, pulling on the cylinder again.

She didn't want to meddle, but Hana was dying to know more about the life of the person she spent most of her time with. He had piqued her curiosity in a way no one else had ever done, and she didn't know how to react to that.

Nothing and no one had aroused her interest in fifteen years, and that hadn't improved since the death of her parents. Her world seemed bland. It featured every possible and existing shade of gray, and the only time a bit of color warmed up her sad palette was when she was drunk. This was the only way Hana could find comfort.

And then she'd crossed his path, and he'd shown her colors Hana hadn't even known existed. So even if their temporary relationship meant that their paths were doomed to part, and that one day she would have to return to the sad palette of gray that was hers, she didn't want to think about it. Not yet. It was too soon.

So tonight, Hana used alcohol to justify all the things she wanted to ask him. Under normal circumstances, he would never have answered to her. So subconsciously, a part of her was also taking advantage of the fact that neither of them were sober to dare ask the questions that were nagging at her. And if worst came to worst, they'd probably pretend nothing had happened the next day.

After all, aren't the nights mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day?

—Don't you have another family member who could take over? She asked after a few seconds that seemed to last an eternity.

He sighed.

—I have a younger sister, informed Akaashi in a distant voice. But she isn't cut out for this kind of work, and she'll never be.

And with the burden already resting on her shoulders, he would never even think about imposing another one on her.

—So no, I'm not in a position to refuse, he concluded with a sad little smile.

—I understand you, Hana breathed, feeling strangely moved by these words. That's very considerate of you.

Suddenly realizing that he had perhaps revealed a little too much, Keisuke suddenly felt obliged to cut short the conversation before it drifted too far. He wanted to have a good time, not talk about his family problems to a girl with daddy issues. This conversation could only drift into subjects too deep to be shared with a fuck buddy.

-Don't be silly, retorted the dark-haired man, looking away. Being CEO of a company isn't that bad. I'm clearly not a man to be pitied.

Hana understood the message without much difficulty and didn't insist, unwilling to drive a wedge between them when the evening had started so well. Her gaze fell on the half-smoked joint, and if she hadn't had the feeling he'd refuse to let her smoke, Hana would probably have asked him for a drag. She remembered too well his words when he had confronted her at the ice rink. It was all still far too recent.

Hana turned her eyes away, sliding them down Akaashi's left arm, following the few veins that stood out beneath his skin. And then they landed on the second tattoo that marked - as far as she knew - his body. A much more discreet one than the snake on his other arm. A sentence, located horizontally in the upper hollow of his elbow, made up of three little words that Hana brushed against with the tip of her fingernails.

—Nothing lasts forever, she read in English before looking up at the young man. It's quite pessimistic.

—I think it's optimistic, argued Akaashi, turning his attention back to the young woman. It's all a question of point of view.

—Was this sentence your first tattoo?

Akaashi closed his eyes briefly. The drug was slowly making his head spin, almost as much as the young woman sitting quietly on his lap did, and this didn't leave him indifferent. Over time, his body had become accustomed to the weed he smoked. It felt strange to feel the effects after just a few puffs.

—No, replied the dark-haired man, raising the cone to his lips. I got it when I went to do some minor adjustments on the snake.

—Did you draw it?

Keisuke raised an eyebrow at her curiosity. He wasn't used to witness her like this, so cheerful and expressive, and once again, he could only notice how different she seemed like this. But even so, he couldn't stop the words from slipping off his tongue. The expressions she offered him with every word he uttered were far too precious a thing to deprive himself of voluntarily.

—Yeah, I drew it and even tattooed it myself, explained Akaashi, naturally resting his eyes on the snake. That was nearly three years ago. Tattoo artists didn't wasn't to tattoo me without parental permission, so I made my own way.

The look on his father's face when he disembarked at the dinner table that evening with his arm marked in black would forever remain one of his favorite memories.

—But didn't it hurt too much? Worried Hana, both impressed and surprised. You deliberately stuck needles in your arm for hours...

—I was stoned as fuck, admitted Akaashi, snickering. But yeah, it did hurt a little.

—You really worked well, she congratulated him, giving him a sincere smile. I would never guess you'd done it yourself.

Keisuke was careful not to mention that on several occasions, he'd almost given up because the pain combined with his dubious state had made him quite nauseous. He felt that, after all, she didn't ask any more, and thus she didn't need to know all the details.

—Oh, tell me, could you tattoo me too?

Thinking she was joking, he didn't pick up on her remarks. But when he saw that she seemed quite serious, his amusement ended. He gave her a disillusioned look.

—It's not something to be taken lightly, Hoshino, he retorted with a hint of disapproval in his tone.  In case it hasn't reached your little brain, it's permanent, added the young man before taking another drag.

—Aaaah, I see you're the kind of person who values symbolism, said Hana in a slightly mocking voice. Very well, then. In that case, what do your tattoos mean? She asked.

As she spoke, Hana ran her fingertips over the snake marking his skin, tracing the contours of the tattoo as if she were drawing it. A hint of surprise seized her when she felt him inexplicably tense and shudder under her touch. However, she had no time to wonder about her partner's strange reaction as he spoke again, capturing with his voice what little lucid attention she still had.

—Don't ruin the mood, he mumbled, giving her a blasé glare.

Realizing that this was the end of the discussion, Hana didn't insist and simply moved on. An idea had formed in her head, and even before she had formulated it aloud, her hand had already seized the brush dipping in the fluorescent paint. Akaashi frowned.

—It's my turn to express my creativity, she declared in response to her partner in crime's questioning glance. It's your turn, now.

With his mind now far too altered by the drug effect, Keisuke didn't even have time to process the information before he already felt the brush running over his upper arm. After a few seconds, he lowered his head to look at the pattern Hoshino was working on, but she blocked his view with her front hand.

÷Don't look yet, she said, giving him only a furtive glance.

The young man's lips quirked into a wry grin, but Hana had already plunged back into her task and took no notice. An almost religious silence settled between the two students.

Hana's concentration was fragile, held in place only by the fact that she wanted to do her best to repay his kindness. She was well aware that her artistic abilities couldn't possibly rival those of the dark-haired boy, but that didn't stop her from wanting to at least honor him. She strove to make her strokes as regular and straight as possible, which was something she could only achieve after long minutes of application. Minutes at the end of which Akaashi began to stir slightly, interrupting Hana's work.

—My blunt burned out, justified the boy, exposing the problem right in front of her eyes.

—Where's your lighter?

—Left pocket.

Without another word, Hana leaned slightly to the side and reached into his cargo pocket. Only, instead of pulling out the lighter, her fingers closed on an object whose plastic texture intrigued her. So it was this very second item that she took out to observe.

It was a plastic pouch. Nothing surprising so far, since her partner was a fervent weed consumer, only the contents of the bag bore no resemblance to the usual green pellets. Inside were a few colorful pills in a variety of patterns. Pills she knew existed, but pills she'd never had the chance to see in real life. Ecstasy.

—How did you get these? Hana asked, shaking the bag.

—A gift, retorted the young man vaguely.

In itself, he wasn't lying, since he'd received those pills as a gift. Needless to say, most of them weren't a gift at all.

—Do you take them often ? She wanted to know, amazement having given way to interest.

—Let's say me popping pills is less frequent than people asking me for some, the smoker explained vaguely, without giving out names. I'm just doing them a favor.

—You, doing a favor? Repeated the young woman, tilting her head to one side. What a joke, she added, squinting incredulously. What kind of compensation are you asking them in exchange for ecstasy ?

Keisuke smirked at her last question. The situation amused him greatly; whether it was the fact that Hana seemed driven by a feeling commonly known as jealousy, or the fact that she didn't even realize it. These two elements put together made the moment rather entertaining. What's more, she had simply misinterpreted what he was saying. Admittedly, there had been a time when he'd opted for compensation in kind, but that time had long since passed. From now on, he would only take cash refunds or an assignment copy, nothing more.

But if Hana decided to jump to conclusions, it was out of his hands. Keisuke decided not to correct her, choosing instead to lead her on until she realized her blunder.

—It depends, retorted the dark-haired boy without losing his sneer. Why, you're interested?

Keisuke had meant his last sentence in jest, but when he saw that the young woman in front of him seemed to be seriously weighing up the pros and cons, he couldn't help but chuckle inwardly. Did she really think he would possibly give her some pills ? Certainly not. Firstly, because he didn't want to be responsible for any potential addiction, but above all, because he had neither the need nor the desire to use such stratagems to get her.

A little respect, all the same.

—Hey, I wasn't making a deal, Keisuke clarified, grasping the pouch out of her hand. In case your little brain forgot, we're already sleeping together.

Hana rolled her eyes. He really did have the glibbest way of saying things ! But she could see what he was attempting to do. He was trying to distract her. Too bad the brunette wouldn't let him get away with it. Now that a furious desire to taste one of these fancy little pills had crossed her mind, there was no going back.

Don't they say that every new experience is worth trying?

—I guess I've already paid my part, then? She quipped mischievously. Or do I have to do anything else now?

Her interlocutor's laugh shook them both.

—You don't have to do anything, corrected the dark-haired man, whose laughing eyes kept staring at her. And just so you know, people are buying them from me. You're the one who thought of something else.

They exchanged a glance, both knowing that the figure skater's suspicions had more than one reason to be valid.

—Please, she begged with pleading eyes. I've never had any, but I must admit I'm intrigued.

—Seriously, Hoshino? You wanna try some E?

—Do I look like I'm joking ?

Nah, not really. The two students stared at each other for a long time, engaging in silent stare battle. Except that as one of them had the most limited patience a human being could have, the other's triumph quickly followed.

—Okay fine, Keisuke conceded, opening the plastic pouch.

Hana stomped impatiently on his lap, seeing no dirty trick in the horizon. She wasn't at all suspicious of the fact that he gave in so easily, putting it down to her incredible powers of persuasion combined with his impatient nature.

With the hand that was still holding his extinguished blunt, Keisuke took a small pink pill out of the pouch and shoved the rest in a pocket she couldn't reach. As for his other hand, it went around his partner's throat, taking care not to ruin the arabesques he'd painted on her skin earlier.

—Stick out your tongue out, he ordered calmly.

The brunette complied, giggling, her eyes as bright as stars. When the pill landed on her tongue, Hana barely had time to close her mouth before the hand around her neck suddenly drew her to the boy's lips, muffling her squeak of surprise in the process. In the blink of an eye, he'd just taken the ecstasy from her, bragging about it as he stuck out his tongue to taunt her.

—Hey, snapped the pretty brunette, crossing her arms under her chest.

—Did you really think I'd let you have it? Akaashi sneered, giving him a mocking look. If I brought the drugs, then they're all mine.

—Mmh, you got me there, she concluded, shaking her head.

—My lighter, reminded the smoker, pointing to his cargo pocket, which he couldn't reach because of the young woman.

With this little interlude, she'd almost forgotten what all the fuss was about. For the second time, the brunette bent down to reach the fire starter. Only, instead of holding it out to the hand that was asking for it, she reached out with her arm and grabbed the tube stuck between his fingers and slipped it over her lips.

Lesson learned, fool me once, not twice.

—Hoshino, I don't remember allowing you, reported Akaashi, arching an eyebrow.

—I allow myself, rectified the young woman with a provocative wink.

Despite what her words suggested, Hana waited a few moments to make sure her gesture didn't really offend her colleague. And seeing that this time, he didn't seem to make the slightest move to prevent her plan from being carried out, Hana took the liberty of lighting the rest of the joint and took a long puff, all under the piercing gaze of Akaashi, who hadn't missed a crumb of her little maneuver. He chuckled as she squinted, obviously holding back from choking loudly.

—Maybe I forgot to mention it was strong, he scoffed in a falsely apologetic tone.

—That's so nice of you, commented the young woman, who nonetheless put the joint in her mouth a second time.

—I can't wait to see how you'll complete your drawing, taunted the boy as she took the last drag.

—Oh, but I finished it earlier, she declared, laughing stupidly.

Intrigued, he contorted himself to observe the fruit of the young woman's long minutes of effort. His eyes fell on what he identified as flowers, scattered over the whole of his biceps, and linked together by lines of varying length. He understood that this was a constellation, but he lacked too many elements to make the connection between the pattern and the meaning she attached to it.

—Hoshino means star field, and Hana means flower. So I drew you my constellation, a Scorpio, with flowers instead of stars. With this on you, you'll think of me all the time, she concluded, giggling softly.

A broad smile crossed her face as she proudly delivered the answer to his question, but Keisuke's thoughts were a thousand miles away. You'll be thinking about me all the time," she had declared, and if he hadn't retorted aloud that this was already the case, the young man had thought no less. And this observation, however insignificant, had the effect of a real slap in the face.

Not a day went by without that something brought his mind back to Hoshino. And it wasn't until the very moment she uttered this truth that he realized it.

He didn't need a reminder on his skin to think about her all the time.

This was the first time he'd acknowledged it, the first time his brain had admitted to itself that Hana Hoshino's existence invited itself surprisingly often into his mind for someone who was supposed to be a mere hobbyist. This girl had intrigued him right from the start, and instead of that feeling fading with each passing day, she had managed to make his interested in her grow day by day.

Hoshino, she had never sought more from him. He had imposed the limits of the relationship they would have without asking her opinion, and not once had she tried to go beyond his boundaries. And this, paradoxically, had made her a person with whom Keisuke naturally revealed details of his life. Small things, of course, but things he would never have confided in one of his previous lovers...

And as this last thought evaporated in his head, the smoker realized that he had not, for a single moment, taken his eyes off the young woman. In two shakes of a lamb's tail, the whirlwind of his thoughts disappeared, and he snapped back to reality. His previous ideas suddenly seemed quite ridiculous, and the young man was amused by the extent to which weed - mixed with a few shots and half a pill of Ecstasy - was making him delirious tonight.

—I think I'm high, he declared as he let his head tilt back against the back of the chair, eyes closed. But like, really high. Damn, that was good weed, the dark-haired man let out, almost laughing.

Hoshino's crystalline laugh echoed pleasantly in his ears, and a smile slid across his lips as he felt her hands lock behind his neck. Her sweet peach scent titillated his senses as she closed the little space that still separated their two beings.

—That's good, cause so am I, she whispered confidentially.

His gaze met the brunette's, and he couldn't hold back another amused chuckle.

—That was more than predictable, Hoshino, he retorted in the same tone, before sliding his hands over her waist. You're not used to it, and you're drunk after two shots.

And before she could formulate even the shadow of an answer, Keisuke silenced her by joining his lips to hers, kissing her with an impatience he didn't even pretend to conceal. Against his mouth, she giggled in surprise, but the next moment, she was already responding with the same fervor he had shown. Their tongues danced together, sharing the peachy taste of the lip gloss she wore.

Hana's fingers lost themselves in his dark locks, making a mess of it, while Akaashi's grip became more intense. One of his hands slid lasciviously down her spine, the other quietly up her thigh, groping for the zipper to get rid of the skirt she was wearing. It looked good on her but, at the moment, he found it more cumbersome than anything else. A satisfied sneer appeared on his lips when he felt the cold zipper's tip under his fingers, and the will to pull it bloomed in his mind.

But before he could put his plans into action, Hana abruptly interrupted their kiss, her breath short with a serious expression on her face.

—I don't like being called that.

Still stunned by this abrupt interruption, Keisuke took a moment to realize what she was mumbling. His breathing was jerky, and his thoughts still a thousand miles from what she was referring to. Concentrating on anything other than his desire to rid them of that damned skirt cost him a considerable effort.

—You don't like being called "Hoshino" ? The dark-haired man realized aloud before raising a doubtful eyebrow. It's your name, isn't it ?

Hana briefly averted her eyes and stammered, as if caught off guard. She finally sighed and timidly returned her gaze to his, her throat strangely knotted.

—It reminds me of my parents, and I don't like being associated with them.

He took note of her confession and nodded slightly.

—I'll call you Hana, then, he said in a low voice.

At these words, she felt warmth embrace her heart.

—Would you do that for me ? She murmured, leaning towards him.

—If that's what you wish, confirmed Akaashi, imitating her gesture.

Her hand rested delicately on the boy's warm cheek.

—I'd love it, she whispered breathlessly.

A blink of an eye later, she had captured his lips with hers, and things picked up gently where she'd left off, all with a new promise to bind their two lost souls.