soundoftheseas | DIAMARI CATCHALL

"You don't think I am? Dia, you always say such rude things! I'm as reliable as they come, a complete open book!"

The fact that she can say that with a straight face seems to prove Dia's point moreso than anything; she's so huffy that she doesn't even bother avoiding the pool of water on the ground, though it's hardly as if she cares. But, it occurs to her that all of a sudden, she's just a few steps ahead of Dia for her liking, so, she decides to slow it down herself a bit and look over her shoulder...

"...Hey, Dia, you're making that face, you know? The one you always make when you're thinking too hard about something...you're not still mad at me, are you?"

"Eh?" Dia lifts her eyes to meet Mari's, and-- huh? Just when did she get so far away?

A shake of the head. She's fallen out of focus, hasn't she... and now she has to answer for it. Unfortunately, being Dia Kurosawa means she never just 'zones out', which means she'll have to provide some explanation. And that means she needs to come up with something and fast, because hell will freeze over before she admits to Mari she was rehearsing confessions in her head.

"No, no, it's nothing like that. Far from it, I just--"

The good news: Dia doesn't have to keep scrambling for an excuse for long. The bad news: the reason for that is an abrupt interruption by a passing truck that raises an entire wave of muddied rainwater in its wake, leaving her drenched from the knees down.

And she just stands there with her mouth ajar, frozen mid-sentence, only the hem of her skirt dripping steadily onto the pavement.

"Oh, crap!! Dia, your skirt...oooh, that jerk, you're totally soaked! I'll find that company and make sure they're bankrupt by Friday..."

Poor Dia may be flabbergasted, but, Mari seems to think quickly; the second she sees the stray wave hit her, Mari's purple umbrella hits the concrete of the pavement and rolls off towards the lawn. She'll need both hands to rummage through her schoolbag and look for a face towel. It isn't much, but, it's better than nothing, and it'll at least dry up Dia's legs before she lets it soak up the water from her skirt...

She scurries right over to Dia when she finds it, and before she can even let Dia get a word in edgewise about it, she's on her knees and wiping Dia's legs down.

"Oh, Dia, even your socks...some people, I swear!"

If there's one thing more humiliating than standing dumbstruck in the middle of the street dripping rainwater, it's standing dumbstruck in the middle of the street dripping water with Mari rubbing frenetically at her legs. People are looking. God-- just how much torture must this day subject her to until it's satisfied?

On the plus side, it sure snaps her into focus real fast.

"M-Mari-san!" Stumbling back, Dia snatches the cloth from her hands. "Please! I can take care of myself!" She haphazardly finishes the task, wishing first and foremost to have this whole scene over with. She'll be cold and wet the rest of the way just the same -- her skirt and socks are beyond any help a face towel can offer.

"Let's just hurry on home," she mutters darkly, snapping the towel into a perfectly even square. She catches herself the next moment -- reminds herself it's none of Mari's fault -- and softens.

"... And thank you."

"I'll make sure I remember the license plate number of that stronzo! He won't get away with making my Dia spend her trip home soaked!"

She had expected Dia to take matters into her own hands, so she doesn't seem put off by how forcefully she takes the towel from her; that's just how Dia is, and, if nothing else, it's kind of cute to see how stubbornly she wants to assert her independence, even when she so obviously needs assistance. She doesn't dare giggle, though; her smile is one of admiration, rather than anything close to any sort of schadenfreude.

It's a shame that they'll have to spend the rest of the way home like this, though. But that's nothing a phone call or two can't remedy, some. Her umbrella is still a bit of a ways off, but she doesn't seem concerned with the light rain falling on her head as she whips out her bedazzled cell and starts blitzing through her saved numbers, her thumb moving at lightning speed as it scrolls through contact after contact.

"I'll just call us a town car, Dia. We can look for a place to get you dry in the meantime! Oh, oh, oh! There's a little cafe nearby, isn't there, around the corner? We can get you some matcha, that'll probably help!"

Dia blinks three times in succession, expression growing wearier with each one. She quickly reaches for Mari, taking hold of her uniform sleeve between her fingertips, and shakes her head.

She doesn't want to put it off. She's been planning this conversation in her head this whole time, and if there's something Dia hates, it's getting wrenches thrown in her plans.

"Let's just go to the hotel, please." She knows Mari means well, but...

"... I'd like to be alone with you."

Her thumb is hovering right over the call button when Dia grips at her arm, but all it takes is one look at Dia's face for her to abandon that train of thought and put her phone back in her bag. She doesn't want her to spend the rest of the way home drenched, but...

"Oh, Dia..."

She can't possibly say no to that expression. She'd have to be heartless. So all Mari does is nod and smile before she goes off, just for a moment, to pick her umbrella back up.

"We'll have it your way, then. But, if nothing else, let me walk on the outside this time, please? The last thing we need is another truck getting you even more soaked. ...I won't let you get far behind me again, I promise."

Oh, what she wouldn't do to give her a huge hug right now, even though she knows they're in public...Dia better thank her for showing some restraint, for once!

"Shall we, darling~?"

Dia nods, falling into pace by Mari's side in silence. She's certainly more mindful of her surroundings now, careful not to get lost in her thoughts -- and kind of mortified at herself still, on top of it all. But... Mari's been sweet. There's comfort to be found there.

Tentatively, she reaches out to wrap her fingers around Mari's; a show of appreciation, or so she hopes. Her eyes flicker over to the other girl's face, narrowing in warning: tease her for this and she's pulling away. Don't make her regret it.

Edited 2017-03-07 21:21 (UTC)

Dia can practically see the expression on Mari's face jump from her soft smile to a huge grin in an instant when she reaches to hold her hand. Her eyes light up at the feeling, but the glare keeps her from making any sort of comment; instead, she settles on tugging her in just a bit closer to her side, an effort to close the gap and keep Dia's head by her shoulder. They may not be sharing an umbrella, but, this is certainly close enough, and for Dia's sake, she'll do her best not to blow it.

Even if she's internally screaming at the idea that Dia is holding her hand right now, she tries to play it cool, nonetheless, despite the fact that she can't hide her enthusiasm. She knows Dia wants to get straight back to the hotel, but, maybe she won't mind if they take their time getting there? She kind of wants to savor this feeling, as cheesy as it is. Who knows when Dia will be in the mood to hold her hand again, after all?

Dia settles; no funny remarks this time, it'd seem. She likes the way Mari's face lights up, the warmth that emanates from her palm. While she's had considerably sunnier and less sodden walks, this much, at least, is pleasant. New. It's-- nice.

But even so, she can't get to the hotel fast enough. Her legs are freezing, and the horrible squelching sensation of her soaked-through socks with every step she takes is plain torment. By the time they pass through the door Dia's toes are numb, and she can't stop sniffling.

"Pardon the intru--" sniff-- "guh, intrusion. Please allow me to make use of your dryer."

Edited 2017-03-07 22:58 (UTC)

"See, this is why I said we should have waited inside the cafe for a town car! The rain only got worse while we were walking..."

It didn't help that they kept such a slow pace getting there, she imagines. She'd offer poor Dia a handkerchief, but, the only one she has on hand is a little...well, it's a bit grimey from prior use, so, she'll lead her straight to the bathroom instead, where she can get some fresh towels and a robe, and a drier, too...

"You dry off in here and get changed! I'll make sure we have fresh tea and warm blankets, so you don't get even more sick...take as long as you need, per favore!"

At this rate, she may just have to make her Stewshine after all...

"That'd be lovely," Dia bows her head, "thank you."

With Mari gone, she takes a couple minutes to towel herself off and change, unceremoniously dumping her mess of a uniform in the dryer. Good riddance. The robe, as one would expect from Awashima hotel, is so ridiculously, luxuriously soft that the mere act of putting it on soothes her instantly.

With her hand on the doorknob, Dia hesitates a moment. The thought of appearing before Mari like this makes her a little self conscious-- but, well... it's Mari, she reminds herself. They've known each other since they were seven. And after the chain of humiliation she's been through in this one, single day alone, there's little reason to feel particularly distressed by something of this calibre.

So Dia swallows against the small seeds of insecurity gathered in her chest and exits the bathroom, calling out softly: "I'm done."

When Mari's serious about it, it seems, she can be a pretty good host; by the time Dia leaves the restroom and steps out into the deluxe suite, Mari's already standing near the window, setting the green tea out by the table near the sofa. And, though the sight of Fuji-san in the distance can certainly be better, she's hoping that the fog will break a bit before sunset, and they'll at least get a good view of the horizon through the window of the balcony while they...discuss. Just for that extra romantic sort of flair...

Oooh, just thinking about it makes her spine tingle! A conversation with Dia like this feels like everything she could have wanted for...well, for years now! What's she going to say? How is she going to phrase it?! She's so wrapped up in it that she practically jolts when Dia hesitantly makes her way out of the bathroom and...

Wow. Wow, wow, wow, wow. Some part of her is vaguely telling her to stop being such a useless lesbian and say something, because she's already made Dia uncomfortable enough and staring for too long flabbergasted over how radiant she is probably isn't going to help at all, but, on the other hand, Dia is in front of her, in a bathrobe, and she looks Stunning with a capital S, and she kind of sort of confessed to her today, and Dia kind of sort of accepted it--

Okay. Okay, okay. If she can just clear her throat and stop herself from swooning for two seconds and keep her cheeks from getting too red...

"I-I'm, um, I'm ready over here whenever you want to sit down and talk!"

It all comes out in one big breath, way too fast, before she bends over immediately and reaches to take a sip of the hot tea on the table; she burns her tongue a bit on it, but that's the last thing on her mind right now. Maybe it's nerves?

Edited 2017-03-08 04:28 (UTC)

The seeds of insecurity bloom at a truly daunting speed with Mari's eyes on her, and with every second they linger, Dia feels her face grow hotter. What? Why's she staring? And what's that stuttering for?!

"-- Ah, yes, right. Of course."

Dia pulls the robe tighter around her in a half-conscious motion (the process confirms it wasn't loose or anything-- thank God, she would've died), and shuffles over towards the sofa with her head ducked low.

Boy. She's not one bit prepared.

Edited 2017-03-08 04:52 (UTC)

She can't help but reach for Dia's hands as she makes her way over to the sofa; she may still be red in the face, but, seeing Dia awkwardly scoot on over seems to, at least, be enough incentive for her to jump in and try and get her smiling again.

"Oh, come now, Dia, isn't this what you wanted? It's just the two of us now. No one around, no rain, no trucks...you finally have me all to yourself. You don't have to be shy now, right?"

She leads them both to the couch and plops down on one of the cushions; there are warm blankets and pillows behind them, and the seats are certainly cozy, but Mari has no intention of reclining. Now that the two of them are finally alone...

"Besides, you seemed so excited to tell me something before, back there in the rain. Don't hold back now that you've finally got me right where you want me. I won't laugh or anything, I promise. I was good the whole way here..."

"I know already," Dia murmurs, not a hint of bite to her words. Sheepishly, she lifts her head to meet Mari's eyes again -- her cheeks are pink (pretty) and her smile is sincere, with that sort of quiet patience that she's always been capable of, but so rarely allowed to surface. Her hands are soft around her own, and Dia traces her thumb along the edge of Mari's palm, hoping to draw courage from it.

The time is now. She sucks in a breath.

"Mari-san, I..."

The first hurdle wastes no time rearing its head: she doesn't know how to say it. That's right, she was just about to settle the matter in her head when that accursed truck sped by and washed it all away in a great splash -- now she can't remember what she'd decided. I like you feels too juvenile. I love you feels too weighted. I admire you doesn't quite carry the right implication, and god Mari's staring right at her with those big, expectant eyes. She has no idea what to say! She has no idea what to say!

Dia's heart lurches up into her throat, and she jerks her hands away, wiping sweaty palms back and forth on the lap of her bathrobe.

"I-I can't do it like this! It's impossible! Turn around, or something!"

"But if I do that, I won't be able to see how beautiful your face is..."

Of all the ways Mari expected this conversation to go, letting Dia make a confession to the back of her head wasn't quite on the list of possibilities. That said, though, today's already been filled with plenty of unexpected happenings, and this probably isn't the last strange thing that'll happen, so...

"Dia, you don't have to be so nervous...just take your time, okay? It's not what you say as much as it is what you mean..."

She says that, but, she knows it's probably a lost cause. This is Dia Kurosawa she's talking about, here; she'll have nothing less than perfection. And this is her confession, so, for now, she'll play by her rules.

From her spot on the couch, she turns around, her back facing Dia, eyes closed. Not content to go without at least some form of physical contact, though, she scoots up a little closer, so her back is touching Dia's side...

"Is this easier?"

Dia's fully prepared to start down this argument -- it catches her off-guard when Mari complies so easily. In truth, she's aware she's being childish, and it'd be hard to call it a proper confession when they can't even see each other's faces; she's sure it's not what Mari had hoped for, but she agreed, still. For her.

Turning, she presses herself up against Mari's back, arms wrapping around her waist from behind. And she sags into her with a deep, grateful sigh.

"Yes."

It is easier, after that. Dia is relieved enough to let go. She doesn't try to build a whole speech in her head, but instead resolves to release each thought as it floats up to the surface, only taking a moment to play it back at herself beforehand. No longer.

"I... missed you, when you were gone," she finally begins -- her voice hesitant still, but smoother than before. "Even telling myself that it was for the better, I still missed you. I think-- that's when I realized."

A beat. Mari's warm against her chest, and the scent of her shampoo tickles her nostrils. Lavender, Dia thinks. It's soothing. She's missed that, too.

"Your presence was something I never had to question. I never thought to imagine what it'd be like without you, until those two years where that became reality." Dia inhales, steeling herself for the admission: "And I wanted, during that time, to have you close. So badly."

She's not used to this, laying down her feelings so plainly. Watching Kanan and Mari reconcile from afar, she almost thought she'd never have to. But... she's glad. Even if her palms are clammy, and her fingertips are shaky. It feels safe, like this, liberating in a way she hadn't expected -- and slowly, Dia finds herself swept into a steady, certain pace.

"You're loud. And you're tactless, and act on your whims far too much. But everything is brighter when you're there." Another brief pause; she bobs her head, the tip of her nose nuzzling Mari's nape. "Even if we're always bickering, I respect you. How passionate you are. How hard you work when you're serious."

"I-- I like you. I love you. I admire you." She ended up saying all of it, like an idiot. But somehow, she feels like it's okay.

Her arms pull tighter around Mari.

"So... I don't want to let go anymore."

Mari doesn't say a word, throughout Dia's entire speech. She lets her fingers circle Dia's hands on her waist, feels her breath on her neck as she speaks, and listens carefully to every word. Dia's calmer this way; she can tell already. Even if she'd kill to see the look on her face, to hear her speak so smoothly, when she could barely get a sentence out before...it's much better like this. Feeling her push up against her back, she can feel her heartbeat, and she's happy to hear that it isn't pounding out of her chest. She makes every effort to keep their breaths synchronized, even in the wake of Dia's confession.

But the longer Dia speaks, the more Mari starts to sniffle, though she tries her best to stay steady. She's suddenly grateful that Dia had her turn around; for her to get emotional like this twice in one day, it's really not like her at all, but Dia's words are as bittersweet as can be. Not a day goes by when she doesn't regret leaving Dia and Kanan by themselves for those two years, and now that she knows the truth of what happened, it pains her to think of that lost time. She thinks of all of the cold nights Dia must have spent throughout those lonely years, and her heart starts to ache; in light of her confession, leaving for so long feels that much worse, a terrible decision that she feels like an idiot for even considering, much less taking up.

But despite the throbbing that's welled up in her chest and the lump that's made its way to her throat, she's relieved, thrilled, even; even after those two years away, Dia's still here, with her arms wrapped tight around her belly and her chin on her shoulder, telling her how much she cares, how much she's always cared. Yes, she has her regrets, and yes, she's far from perfect, but, Dia, her Dia, her precious, wonderful, genuine Dia...

She turns her upper body, through Dia's grasp, brings her hand to cradle the back of Dia's head, and pulls her in for a kiss, right there on the couch. She doesn't have to worry about who's going to see them under the stairs, and she doesn't give a damn about how awkward it is or how uncoordinated they are. They'll have plenty of time to get better at it. The only way to do that is to practice, and if it means bringing her lips to Dia's like this all day, having the taste of her strawberry lip balm on her lips until the sun goes down and rises all over again, so be it. And just when she thinks she's ready to break it off, she goes in for another kiss, and another.

And when she finally, finally gives Dia a chance to breathe...

"You won't ever get the chance to. ...Let me go, that is. I won't let you be alone. Not now, not ever again. That's a promise from me."

Dia's not sure what response to expect once she's finished. She's never-- said so much, not to Mari, not to anyone. She wouldn't know how to react, herself. But when the first thing to greet her is Mari's lips -- as is the second, and the third -- Dia feels relief flood her chest anew, leaving a golden sunlight-glow everywhere it reaches. The kiss is everything she could've asked for, awkward angle, breathlessness and all, and Mari's promise seals it.

"... Thank you, Mari-san," she says once the kiss is over, flushed from the base of her throat to the crown of her neck. She bumps their foreheads lightly together, then reaches to cup Mari's cheek, thumb brushing softly at the corner of her eye.

"You're tearing up again..."

"You say that like I can help it. I may talk a lot, but you're the one here that has a way with words, Dia. Even if you don't think you do."

Her laugh is quiet and a bit strangled from the swelling in her throat and how winded she is from their kisses, but she's grinning from ear to ear. It's a big, doofy smile that she can't control even if she wanted to; she can feel her dimples hurting and her face growing hotter as she rubs their noses together and Dia puts her hand on her cheek. She's not outright sobbing, not again, but she can feel her vision getting misty even as Dia points it out.

She adjusts her positioning on the couch when Dia strokes her face, finally turning to get a good look at her face. Dia's so beautiful that she can hardly stand it, even when she's short of breath like this. Especially when she's short of breath like this.

She can't help herself. She kept herself from being physical the whole way back to the hotel; surely Dia will reward her patience a little more, won't she?

"I like you."

Her fingers run upwards through Dia's long, dark hair as she grips at a fistful of it to kiss her yet again. She's not rough, but she can't help herself. She moves herself in, as close as she can, so their bodies can touch, so Dia can grip her just a bit more tightly.

"I love you."

A fifth kiss. The word practically dances off her tongue, still a bit numbed from the hot tea that she hurriedly took a sip of. It's not an intentional whisper; the last thing she wants is her love for Dia to be a secret, she wants to shout it to the world, but she's so short of breath that it comes out in a silken, hushed, low tone before she brings her lips to hers yet again.

"I admire you."

Her free hand finds its way to Dia's leg, running up and down her thigh when as she kisses her a sixth time. She can already feel herself getting light-headed, but she can hardly bring herself to care. This feels way too good for her to even think about it. Dia's right; she does act on her whims too much, but when every part of her is craving this, begging and pleading for her lips to touch Dia's just one more time, she's not quite strong enough to resist that temptation.

Neither of them are probably looking at the window; after all, the real view is what's happening inside, not out, but it looks like the fog's finally managed to break, just in time for dusk.

Edited (tfw the internet cuts out and there's no phone service but you want to correct yourself) 2017-03-08 17:18 (UTC)

DIAMARI CATCHALL

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