notes: Digimon Tamers; post D-Reaper. Rated for cursing. Drabble-ish. A little random, maybe? And old. Definitely.

Reviewers would be forever loved, criticism (as English is not my mother tongue) highly appreciated :)

— bells

stop it

(I'm exhausted, so please?)

.

.

.

"Okay," Makino Ruki said, enraged, and threw her hands in the air, a sure sign of her resignation. Of her sensibility. "Stop it, for crying out loud! Okay?"

Her vis-à-vis, as good-looking and pesky as ever, Akiyama Ryou, just looked at her. He breathed. He lived.

Just this simple fact almost made her want to punch him.

"It's okay, Akiyama!"

"Relax, Wildcat," he responded nonchalantly. "What's up with you anyway, hm?"

"What's up with me? What is up with me? For fuck's sake, I've lost my mind!" Ruki's eyes shone with death-bringing rancour, fists clenched, face pale. She only turned pale when she was afraid—she. Really, her? The Digimon queen, the Unapproachable One, she was capable of being afraid?—or when she was so angry that it was dangerous.
The particularity of this situation stemmed from the mixture of both components.

"You're not that bad, okay? God, I know that. You are a fucking hot-stupid-exhausting-incredible idiot, you are heroboy! Stop trying to prove that to me. Stop trying to impress me. Stop it."

Ruki would never become a great expert of human nature—for that she wasn't interested enough anyway, but in this moment, Akiyama's eyes were the most unreadable thing she had ever encountered.

She breathed heavily, white puffs of hot air in the cold, dry winter air.

Does it work? Is what she would have expected.

"Why does it bother you?"

Is what he asked.

It was a clever question.

And there were dozens of good answers to it. To voice them … was something entirely different.

She was Makino Ruki. She had a reputation to maintain.

"You have your life and I have my life, Akiyama. You should stop to try—messing the two of them together."

There. Soft. His smile. (Had he ever looked more wise?)

"Afraid, Ruki?"

"No, of course not," she said dismissively. Something pounded behind her forehead. Liar, liar.

"Liar."

"You're not better, heroboy."

"Could be," he pondered, "but you are more intelligent than I am. You know that I will never leave you alone. And mostly you know what you feel."

"Leave me alone," Ruki said. Out of habit? She didn't seek his company but she knew, he sought it, and she let herself be found. Time and again.

"No. Stop fighting against it." He smiled, so at ease with himself and the world and–…

She breathed (shakily, it was, but she would never admit it to a living soul).

"Okay."

The word came from somewhere deep inside her throat, but as it was uttered, it was just a small whisper, not like she had expected it, or even thought it in her head. She wasn't weak. She had never been. She would never be.

But still, it was nice to have someone with her. Even if it was just an annoying lovestruck guy.