Title: Unorthodox
Author: BlueEyedPerceiver/Talitha Koum
Riku and Nevaeh/Heaven and Earth © Kelley Fesmire  

A/N: Riku and Nevaeh’s first kiss, confession of love, and--EH?--proposal? Which…according to the title…is very unorthodox.


Riku was nervous. More than run-of-the-mill nervous, he was pee-his-pants nervous. The circumstances what made his stomach knot thwarted his insides--here, there, and everywhere--cold first, then hot. Falling like rain, rising like larks.

Riku thought he was going to throw up.

How many times had he walked with Nevaeh, talked with Nevaeh? How many times had he clocked himself out, grabbed his coat, and motioned for her to hurry? What he was doing wasn’t foreign. It wasn’t like he sucked at idle chit-chat as far as Nevaeh was concerned. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what to expect from her.

Still, a new element had presented itself to the equation. And--yes--it had been there before. A tiny, insignificant ‘one’ lost in a matrix of zeros. But, lately, it seemed to Riku that the one had multiplied. And multiplied. And multiplied.

Things were suddenly complicated. Riku couldn’t look at Nevaeh and see a morbidly twisted, sadistically sweet, little girl. That was only a slice, now. More adjectives poppity-popped like a tide of bubbles. No sooner did Riku think ‘ambiguous’, he thought ‘tragic’, ‘beautiful’, and ‘mine’.

The last two made Riku’s face blister, despite the cold.

Strange part was, he had perceived these terms…these feelings. Only recently had they reached the surface of his thoughts. Riku wasn’t sure what to do or what to say. He'd been blindsided by his emotions, he knew, but the problem wasn’t the manifestation of love. It was the stupidity! His was a one-sided affair. If Nevaeh felt anything, she was either an excellent actor or the things she felt for Riku were platonic.

“Riku?”

Riku jerked out of his reverie. He noticed that he was climbing the stairs of the Meadows’ B complex. The lights beside the doors on the second floor hummed steadfastly, just like they always did. And Nevaeh ascended to the top, just like she always did. Riku hadn’t meant to follow her. Already, he was stuck half-way, poised, one foot forward.

Nevaeh pressed her lips together. “I knew you were seeing me home, but I didn’t think you’d see me home.”

Riku looked from Nevaeh to the first floor where apartment 12 B called his name. He knew it would be in his best interests to turn around, explain his mistake as him being tired, and shut himself inside his apartment without another word. ‘His best interests’ wasn’t what he was interested in, though. He didn’t know what--exactly--he wanted, but it had nothing to do with maintaining his sanity.

Riku continued up the stairs. “Call me old fashioned,” he sighed.

Nevaeh stared. “Whatever floats your boat.” She grabbed his hand. “If I would’ve known you were so chivalrous, I would have made you carry me up here.” Nevaeh wrapped Riku’s arm around the small of her back. She turned to the side, begging him to finish the night properly - begging him to pick her up like a husband, his bride.

Riku jerked away. “You wish.”

Nevaeh snubbed him. “No skin off my nose.” She fished her set of keys from the inside of her coat pocket and strode toward 24 B, three doors to the right of the stairwell.

Riku trailed after her. He wanted to kick himself.

Neaveh jammed her apartment key into the lock of her door. She gave Riku a look he couldn’t decipher. “Silly,” she giggled. Nevaeh touched Riku’s forehead--leaving her keys to dangle--much to his conflicted delight/surprise. “Stop brooding, will you? Your brow’s too wrinkled for someone your age.”

Riku un-furrowed his eyebrows. Nevaeh rubbed his premature creases like she could erase them permanently. Riku’s eyes fell closed. Again, he wanted to kick himself, but more than that he wanted to preserve the sensation he felt. The tips of Nevaeh’s fingers were like branding irons, in a sense. They burnt…

…in a good way.

Riku huffed. Since when had he become such a sap?

Nevaeh laid her hand flat against his forehead. “I think you have a fever.”

“Hn.”

Nevaeh trickled her fingers down the slope of his nose. “You’ve got dirt on your face.”

Riku swallowed the lump in his throat. He hated the way Nevaeh tortured him so flippantly. “It’s grease,” he corrected her.

“Pardon my stupidity,” she teased.

Nevaeh held Riku’s cheek in the palm of her hand. She cleaned the splotches of grease from under Riku’s eye. “When Vinny told you to scrub the pipes, he meant with a rag.”

“Ah. Witty.”

“I’m modest, too.”

Riku smirked. He opened his eyes, more or less intoxicated.

Nevaeh tilted her head. She concluded, “You’ve been working too hard, I think. You look like death.”

“I feel like death.” Riku wasn’t lying. He couldn’t take much more. And he knew it. He was driving himself crazy. Heck, he was jeopardizing his good reason with every second that passed. Riku knew he needed to end his madness, but what he wanted and what he needed were two, completely different things. He wanted to breech the distance he both respected and abhorred. He wanted to…kiss…the lips of his loving adversary. To taste them. If only once.

His need convinced him otherwise. Whatever Nevaeh desired him to be, he would be for her sake. It seemed to Riku that Nevaeh wanted nothing more than a confidant. A human being disciplined enough to see through the façade she paraded day in and day out, accepting her and who she was without a comment, question, or judgment.

And...

Riku was certain Nevaeh’s mouth possessed a gravity of its own. He found himself entranced, wrangled, and stooping. His hand lifted of its own accord. The edge of his pointer finger brushed the underside of Nevaeh’s chin, tilting her neck--up and up--slender and sumptuous in its curvature.

The division separating Riku’s wants and his needs blurred. His senses heightened. He could hear Nevaeh’s breath escape her lips. He could feel the peachy texture of her skin as he let fall his hand, trickling the length of her throat with the backs of his knuckles. He could see the colors Nevaeh absorbed and reflected. Pink, yellow, blue.

He reminded himself to breathe.

Riku touched Nevaeh’s collar. Slowly, he brushed her braid behind her nape--his hand ascending--and traced Nevaeh’s jawline. His fingers aroused the downy surface of her skin like a breeze rather than a solid.

Nevaeh was struck immobile. “What are you doing?”

“I’m…” Riku froze. He had crossed a line. In fact, if he were to spin on his heel and retreat, ‘the line’ would be nowhere in sight. There was no going back. He was too far-gone. “I’m leaving.”

Riku did as he said. He left. Quickly.

“Riku!” Nevaeh snapped.

He descended three steps. Only three.

Why? Why did Nevaeh have the audacity to call his name? Was she really so spiteful? Was she bound and determined to kill him stone dead?

Nevaeh stood on the stair behind him. “You forgot something,” she said.

Riku turned around. “What did I forget?”

Nevaeh grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulled him forward, and kissed him on the lips with such speed and such recklessness, Riku wasn’t sure if he’d been kissed of sucker-punched. “That,” Nevaeh shrilled. “You forgot that. The epitome of romantic good-byes. I can’t believe you would leave it up to someone like me to initiate.”

Riku blinked. “What?”

“You’re the man.” Nevaeh poked him in the chest. “You’re supposed to be the one to kiss me. Not the other way around. Don’t you know anything?”

Riku made a face. Not only had Nevaeh succeeded in fulfilling his deepest desire, but she had also insulted him to the point where he didn’t care diddly-squat about swapping saliva with the object of his infatuation. Instead, he wanted to rebuke her. Start an argument.

Something…anything…

“You know?” Riku clenched his teeth. “You-“

“I what?”

Riku closed his eyes, counted to ten, and spoke, “You’re a bad kisser.”

Silence.

Riku opened his eyes. He saw, with mild satisfaction, that Nevaeh was shaping her mouth like a fish out of water. (Her lips’ gravitational pull wasn’t as strong as before, he noted.) “W-Well,” she stuttered, stalling for time. “At least I’m not a scardy-cat too afraid to kiss the only girl he’ll ever get.”

Riku glowered. He hammered the railing with his fist. “At least I’m not a superficial flirt unconcerned with the feelings of others.”

“Flirt?” Nevaeh shot back. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

“I am editing myself.” Riku’s glare was unsurpassed.

Nevaeh glared back. “You,” she hissed. “You are the thickest boy I’ve ever met!” Her face flushed in her bewilderment. The rosiest Riku had ever seen. Her nose, her eyes, her ears, and her lips were uniform in color. The amount of oxygen Nevaeh pulled through her nose should have made her braid rigid. “Can’t you see?” She stamped her feet. Once. Twice. Three times. “I’m in love with you!”

Riku’s heart fainted.

Nevaeh held her head in her hands. “And see? I’ve broken tradition! Again! That makes twice! What else do you want me to do, Riku? Bend on one knee and ask for your hand in marriage?”   

Riku’s chest hurt. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought his legs had vanished. He couldn’t feel them anymore. Everything below his waist was numb, in fact. The only reason he could feel his arms was because he gripped the rails too tight. The only reason he felt his chest was because his heart was having a panic attack.

How was it possible? How was it possible for him to have the capacity to love Nevaeh Alexander to such an extent? It didn’t seem likely that his body had the strength to withstand the amount of passion and compassion he harvested for one, little girl.

“If that’s what it takes,” Nevaeh continued, brisk with her words. “Then please.”

“Please?”

Nevaeh flung her arms around Riku’s neck. She lost her cool as quickly as she lost the textbook rhythm of her speech. “Please. Please, will you? Will you take me?”

Riku would rather throw himself off the second story than to ever hear the desperation what soaked Nevaeh’s voice through and through.  

“I love you,” Nevaeh whispered. “I don’t care that you’re a coward. I don’t care if you can’t say it. Because I can. I’ll say it enough for the both of us.” Her grip tightened. “I love you. I. Love. You.”

Riku couldn’t move. His throat was clogged. His senses were coiled taught and overloaded.

“I love you,” Nevaeh repeated herself. “You’re kind and gentle, in spite of what you want everyone around you to think. And…” She twisted her fingers deep into Riku’s hair. Her nails combed his scalp. “Even though I’m not what I make myself out to be, you’re still here. I never thought that someone could ever…” Nevaeh trembled.

Riku turned his face toward her.

Their foreheads touched. Their noses met, side by side.

Riku reveled in the warmth. “Three for three?” he asked.

Nevaeh grinned sheepishly. “What should I have you do now that I’ve taken your responsibilities?”

Riku parted his lips. He felt Nevaeh quiver in anticipation. He made a funny ‘uh’ noise in the pit of his throat. The hairs on Riku’s arms stood on end.

Nevaeh laughed, breathless. Riku accompanied. It was their way of acknowledging the nonsensicalness of the entire situation. Couldn’t they contain themselves? Couldn’t they treat this conversation professionally? Couldn’t they keep their desires under wraps for a couple of minutes?

No. They couldn’t.

This, Riku thought was funny. Especially since he and Nevaeh regarded themselves as masters of deception. There was one thing they couldn’t curb, snuff, or ignore. Not anymore. They had, but wouldn’t again. It was just too taxing on their bodies. Now that they were experiencing what it felt like to open the floodgates of their emotions, there was no chance what-so-ever that they would dam them after tonight.

Riku would make sure of that.

He kissed Nevaeh’s cheek--slowly, repeatedly--growling as time progressed. He slipped his lips toward her ear, kneading her skin, leaning in. “I’ve loved you for a long time. That has to count for something.” Riku stepped down. He turned to leave.

Nevaeh wavered. “Are-“ She didn’t finish her sentence.

The corner of Riku’s mouth twitched. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He walked to the bottom of the stairs.

Nevaeh was right on his heels. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?” she demanded to know.

Riku glanced at her over his shoulder. (Nevaeh pointed at her lips.) “I thought that was your responsibility.”

“Don’t be cute. It doesn’t suit you.”

Riku grunted. He grabbed Nevaeh's face in his hands and captured her lips in an instant. He held her still, knowing full-well Nevaeh’s abating point was fast. (Abnormally fast.) He kissed her and he kissed her and he kissed her, thirsty for equability the moment he tasted Nevaeh’s sultry breath.

Riku lingered longer than was necessary, but Nevaeh was addicting. The way she gasped at him. The way she tried to regain her composure with little success. The way she gave as he advanced. The way she kissed the air even as he retreated.

Riku couldn’t help but chuckle.

Nevaeh started. “You think you’re so sexy.” She rolled her eyes. “The next time you ambush me like that, I’ll kick you in your tenders.”

Riku didn’t doubt she would.

Nevaeh swallowed, waved her departure, and hurried up the stairs. “See you tomorrow.” (She said this like they hadn’t confessed their undying love.)

Riku ‘hn’ed. “Tomorrow,” was his reply.