Title: Flower Steal: The Full Story
Author: Throw a dice; if the number can be divided by one, it was me. =p
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance
Status: Completed (one shot)
Pairing: Phoenix/Maya
Summary: Come on, it's right here. Does it need to be more obvious? =p
Notes:
-Inspired by a request elsewhere, this is basically a retelling of the events depicted in Flower Steal, including what happens between pages 5 and 6.
-I experimented with a new (for me) writing style, and tried telling everything from a second person perspective. It felt VERY weird, and yet at the same time so strangely fitting. I hope you guys enjoy it. =)


You're freezing.

You're glad that you invited her out, because it's been a good while before you spent some time alone with her, but you're freezing. You remember having forgotten entirely to check the weather forecasts in the news, and make a mental note to kick your own ass later. Nonetheless, you enjoy your time out together, and actually regret it when you have to cut it short because she's starting to feel too cold. So you start to head back home, and when she asks you if you can hold hands, you blush a little before agreeing, silently enjoying spreading your warmth to her, and wanting to hold her more, but too embarrassed to go any further.

When you get to your empty home, you open the doors and both of you say "We're home" to the void, as you both shed your shoes and trudged inside. In a tone lightly tinged with lament, she says, "So cold...", while blowing hot air on her mitten-covered hands. You get miffed a bit, inwardly kicking your own ass countless times again, and snarkily reply, "Of course it is, if you're wearing such light clothes", but you don't mean it - you just love winding her up. Not a second has passed before you hear her angry reply, "But I didn't know it was gonna snow today!" ("You didn't either, idiot", you say to yourself) "Of course I'd be wearing light clothes!" Trying to keep your outwardly miffed appearance, you snap back at her, "But didn't I lend you a scarf and gloves?", and soon after you hear her answer, sounding tired of arguing, "Oh, come on, lend me your coat!" as the humble sounds of a clock make themselves present nearby, signaling the arrival of a round hour to the world at large, and yet to no one at all.

You comply, knowing that you have as much to be blamed for as she does in this mess, and say nothing back as you walk towards your room. When you enter, the first thing you do is turn on the heating function of the air conditioner, and settle yourself upon your bed -- you're in desperate need of heat, since even in your attorney's suit, the cold was starting to get to you too. Letting out a sigh of relief, you turn your head to the curious expession covering her cute face by the door, and in a friendlier tone, you say, "Come on, Maya, you come over here too, it's warm", before closing your eyes turning your head again towards the device to feel it blowing waves of comforting heat at you. You don't notice it yourself, but you start mumbling unintelligible things under your breath too...

Until the very moment where you feel a very uncharacteristic weight upon yourself, and all of a sudden find her sitting on your lap, with her legs wrapping your waist, her arms on your back, and her head on your shoulder. As pleased as you are surprised at this sudden turn of events, you hear an uninteresting squeal of glee at the sudden warmth, and you hear yourself asking the only thing your brain is lucid enough to ask: "Er... What are you doi...", before suddenly changing your mind and saying in a slightly stern tone, "...I have to get changed, you know..." And it's true. You both have to get changed. The snow that had lodged in your clothes was starting to melt, and if you didn't get rid of those fast, you'd be well on your way to a fantastic winter cold. But apparently, to her, that did not matter then.

You have no idea when she found the time and chance to ditch the heavy armor she was wearing, consisting of your thick coat, a pair of gloves and a fluffy scarf, but she pays no mind to your machinations and merely clings to you a little tighter, and replies in a sweet, sleepy tone, "Oh, come on, stay like this for a bit, please?"

Somehow, you also want to stay like this, but your pride doesn't want to give up that easily; oh no, you're not going to lose this one. So preparing one last burst, you say "...Maya, you're quite the spoiled child, aren't you?" Your only conclusion at her answer ("Eh? You think so?", to which you reply "Yes, I do") is that she's way too far gone to logically think about your conversation right now, so you decide to enact the next move in your attack plan, and gently nibble on her ear, knowing full well how she squirms in pleasure whenever you do that. It seems this time, however, she was not expecting it, for she jumped about three feet when she felt your teeth lightly rubbing against her earlobes, and addressed you in a bit of an accusatory tone, "Ni-Nick! What are you doing?!" But you left her no chance to keep admonishing you, for any words she might have wanted to throw your way died before being born as you pressed your lips to hers, locking her in a deep kiss.

The feeling sends you to paradise. You only break occasionally to catch your breath (and to let her catch hers), and then go back to hungrily consuming her soul through the sweetness of her lips, the softness of her skin. Unconsciously, one of your hands has found its way towards the small of her back, pulling her closer; you can't get enough of the feeling of her body on yours. It's only when you feel her grip loosen on you that you finally break apart, and that you open your eyes to see her blushing, her entire face beet red, with a very flustered expression and an apparent desire to argue.

"D-didn't you have to change your clothes?!" she squeals, making an effort to look serious. You love her flustered face, and can't repress a smug smile as you shoot back, "...But I've warmed up now", which is entirely true. You're warm, both outside and inside; nothing soothes you like the delicious feeling of her tongue intertwining with yours, the lustful exchange of desire between your mouths. She mumbles something that sounds like "what the heck does that mean", but you don't give her a chance to finish, as once again you gently pull her face close to yours and lock yourselves in another lenghty, wet, delicate, loving kiss.

You move your other hand from its supporting position to the back of her head, losing your balance and falling flat down on the bed, pulling her with you. As you caress her back through the thin fabric of her clothes, you can hear her moans through the darkness of your closed eyes, and this elicits a smile from you. You love knowing that she enjoys it, and you wouldn't want it any other way: her happiness is, in turn, your happiness. Slowly, you caress her back with wild, yet gentle strokes; she squirms again in pleasure under your touch, and smiles in turn, feeling your strong hands tickling her here and there. Her own hands seem to have minds of their own, as they quickly shoot towards the back of your head, ruffling your hair with a delicate touch, curiously stopping every now and then on those spikes you take such good care of -- they are your pride and joy, and much to her chagrin, she's had to admit herself that it's one of the things she loves most about you. And the more she plays with your hair, the more hungrily her lips yearn for yours, and it shows -- she lunges at you with renewed strength, trembling, moaning, gasping for air.

You see no way out of her armlock, and yet you can't even think of leaving it; the sensations coursing through your body are way too ensnaring for you to have even the slightest desire to stop them. Just holding her close is enough to send you to the heavens; her delicious smell of cherries never stopped being delicious, her delicate warmth never stopped being delicate, her silky hair never stopped being silky, her smooth skin never stopped being smooth. You merely let yourself fall into the depths of the abyss, since you haven't ever been able to think of a single word to accurately describe this gorgeous girl. Rather, you just know one thing about her: you love her.

In a playful move, you start rolling around on the bed, which pries some excited giggles from her. Feeling her smile while her lips are touching yours makes you shiver a bit, always a pleasant sensation. One moment, you're on top of her, showering her with attention, slowly sliding your fingertips over her skin, and the next she's on top of you, pulling your face harder towards her, unable to break the spell of your kiss. The game keeps going on and on, and both you and her enjoy it to no end.

But after a while, some things start being a bother, and you decide to take action against this. You once again roll so she's on top of you, then swiftly move your hands towards her hair, removing that uncomfortable topknot. She catches on, then rolls again so you're on top of her, and she takes care of that bothersome red tie snapped to your neck. Two more rolls later, and the rest of her hair ornaments, your horribly wrinkled jacket and her bulky magatama necktie lie forgotten on the floor beside the bed.

You pant, and soon after, so does she. You break the contact between your lips to start focusing elsewhere; you kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, and slowly, very slowly, you start moving downwards, kissing her chin, and soon after, her neckline. Nearby, and yet at the same time it feels so far away, you hear a clock chiming; it's been more than an hour since you've been playing your little game, but it doesn't strike your fancy to stop now. Her moans invite you to continue; raw greed fuels your crave of her touch. You slowly trace her collarbone with your tongue; the slightly damp feeling makes her sigh in pleasure. She kisses your forehead and continues to ruffle her hands through your hair; a sign of how much you love her is that she's the only one allowed to mess with your carefully modeled spikes -- anyone else would have probably gotten a couple of objections, or a severe beating if they caught you in a bad mood. And yet you let her do as she pleases with them, because you love the feeling of her fingers on your entire body; that innocent touch, pure, untainted, is most probably the stuff heaven itself is made of.

You roll again, and end up face to face with her, both your arms around each other. You open your eyes, and see hers shut tightly, with an expression clearly indicating she's waiting for your next move. Smiling fondly, you pull your face closer to hers, and blow softly on her ear, answered by an inaudible yelp and a sudden look of suprise with which she finally looks at you, in a half-annoyed, half-amused expression. That's exactly what you wanted, because for this final move, you needed her to look at you. You needed her to look into your eyes, and you needed to look into hers, because if it wasn't like this, the deep, powerful feelings that your next words were trying to convey would never reach their destination. But your needs were met, and as your mouth twitched in the most loving smile, the words "I love you" left your being in a whisper. And you know they reached her ears, because she pulled closer to your face, pressed her cheek against yours, and breathed, loud enough only for you to hear, "I love you too."

You do not care how much TV this girl watched, or how many burgers she ate: you just love her.

You didn't need anything else to feel absurdly victorious against the entire world, and as you held her close, feeling her chest heave with each breath she took, you lost track of the time and the world around you; and after what could have been a couple of minutes or a couple of hours, you called her name sweetly, but she gave no answer. You frowned a bit, and it was not until you lowered your gaze to her face that you noticed she had drifted herself into a peaceful slumber in your arms. Chuckling, you cupped her cheek in your hand and kissed her forehead one last time, hushing "sweet dreams" to her ear; and taking the hint, you pulled the covers over both of you and let yourself fall into a deep sleep.


It was long, very long, before you noticed you both had fallen asleep. The air conditioner kept rumbling in its undying efforts to keep you warm. Yawning, you found yourself between his arms; you pulled the bedsheets off yourself and groggily rubbed your eyes, trying to consciously take in your surroundings. When your fingers touched your lips, you were suddenly reminded of the deliciously sweet taste of bubblegum of his lips on yours, and unable to repress a light shiver, a slight grin of satisfaction slowly lit up on your face, but then you remembered that you both had slept in with your clothing still damp with melted snow, and a sudden earthly fear of catching a bad winter cold started nagging you in the back of your mind. You decided it was in your best interests to agree with it, and started rocking him a little, back and forth, so as to wake him up without scaring him.

This had absolutely no effect, which ticked you a bit. So you decided to accompany your efforts with a low voice. "Nick... Come on, Nick... We have to get changed and put on some decent clothes..." In contrast, this did seem to have some effect, for he suddenly let out a low groan. You kept rocking him back and forth, in the hopes of him waking up and following your suggestion.

But he evidently had other plans, for he suddenly opened his eyes, and in a fast, unexpected, and almost forceful fashion, grabbed your hand, pulled you towards him in a quick motion, and crushed his lips against yours in a deep, passionate kiss, only to part just as suddenly and hold you tight between his arms.

Taken completely by surprise, you were unable to react to this abrupt sequence of events, but very soon you felt it wasn't necessary. You merely let yourself be held tight by his strong arms, imprisoning yourself further inside his hold... And found yourself recalling your earlier conversation, about how he mentioned how much of a spoiled child he thinks you are. You didn't know if he was serious or if he was joking when he said so, for his tone never betrayed his true feelings, but you found yourself brooding over what he said...

Your mind said, "So I'm a spoiled child... Big deal..." You kept brooding at the remark, because even if that hadn't been his intention, it had hit a sore spot. But soon you noticed that you didn't really care, and to your slight amazement, found yourself thinking...

"...Don't you want me to spoil you too?"

You don't really care how much money he makes, or how many times he goes to scrub the toilet. You simply love him, and nothing in the universe will ever change that.

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Hey, I was the one who requested this on the Kink Meme!

Thank you so much for doing this. It was incredibly sweet and intimate, and the descriptions from Nick's point of view were incredibly well done. I tip my hat to you.

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Oh. Oh well then, there you go. XD

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