Never Gone My Way
An Akagami no Shirayuki-hime (Snow White with the Red Hair) Fanfic
Obi knows he has bad luck (being cursed by the gods kind of clued him in), but he really could have done without falling in love with the woman destined to kill him.
This is definitely a new low.
But of course, that’s not even the worst of it. The worst part is that she doesn’t know, and he can’t bring himself to tell her what fate has in store for both of them.
Figures the ghosts would only give her half the story.
“I’m home!” Shirayuki comes bounding inside, shakes off her shoes, and slides into her house slippers before running over to the couch and looking around. “Where’s Mister Reaper?”
Obi prods the book he gave up on reading hours ago and tries to look like he hasn’t been annoying all day. “I think in his room.”
“Oh.” She drops her backpack and sits down beside him. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, fine. Why?”
She shrugs and digs through her bag, searching out a textbook. “You didn’t walk me home today.” When she looks back up, her face is flushed. “Not that you have to, but you always have before, and I just . . . I thought something might be wrong.”
His fingers dig into the couch cushion with the effort it takes to keep his face straight. “Nothing’s wrong. I thought you might want to go out with your friends to celebrate your exam being over.”
That distracts her. She beams. “Right! My exam! I think I did really well! I remembered almost everything and didn’t have to leave anything blank! And now I’ve only got one left tomorrow.”
Her smiles are contagious. “That’s great, Miss.”
She settles sideways on the couch, leaning against the armrest and facing him. “Everyone was talking about their summer plans. Did I tell you Yuzuri has three weddings she’s going to? Three! So then she was asking all of our classmates when they want to get married, and you should have seen her face when I told her I’m already married!”
He winces. “But Miss, you’re not married.”
She shrugs and opens her book. “Close enough.”
No, not “close enough”, but it’s no use. It doesn’t matter how many times he explains that “goblin’s bride” is just a title, and not one anyone should want, she chooses to say things like that and nearly make his heart stop.
He tries a different tactic. “We never got married.”
“We could.”
His head jerks around, but all he can see are her ears, red as her hair, peeking out from her book. He bites his tongue on any response to that.
Slowly, slowly the book comes down. She chews on her lip, and he does not stare. “Sorry, I–I shouldn’t have said anything. I just thought, well, I’m the goblin’s bride, and you’re the goblin, so maybe I have to actually, um, marry you to help. With the curse, I mean.”
Right. The curse. The one he still hasn’t fully explained. The one big, glaring reason why he absolutely cannot marry her ever. Because he really believed immortality to be a curse before, but now that she’s given him a reason to want to live–
The gods must really hate him.
“I, uh, don’t think that’s necessary.”
“Right.” She dives straight back into her book, and he already feels lonely again. Her foot presses close to his leg, toes wiggling distractingly.
He knows he should leave her be, let the conversation die. It’s better for both of them.
He’s never been very good at doing what he should.
He drags one finger up from her heel to toes. She shrieks and jerks her foot back. “Obi!” He grins. She never should have told him she’s ticklish.
The light in her eyes grows murderous, and Obi scrambles off the couch, knowing he’s in for it if she catches him. He can’t stop grinning as she tosses her book aside and runs after him. Outside she could never catch him, but here, in their reaper’s cramped living room, with nothing to hide behind, she keeps up a good chase.
She corners him against the couch, and he can see she thinks she’s won. She should know better than to think he’ll play fair.
He jumps onto the armrest of the couch. (He’ll get in trouble in the morning.) She catches his arm and tugs him back. He only has a second to react, pulling her against him and turning before they land on the couch.
She lands on top of him, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. He waits for her to scramble up, stammering and not meeting his eyes the way she does when she gets flustered. Nothing happens. The moment stretches in the sudden silence. Shirayuki’s fingers curl around his shoulders. This . . . is wrong. He needs to–
Her lips meet his and his mind goes blank.
Nothing exists except this girl in his arms. Her fingers stretching up to brush his chin. Her hair spilling over both their faces. Her lips brushing so hesitantly over his. His arm tightens around her waist and he stretches up, needing her closer, closer.
She gasps, but he cups his hand around the back of her neck, coaxing her back down and catching her lips with his. Heat fills his chest when she sighs into his mouth, overwhelming the usual pain from the sword–
The sword. The curse.
He shoots up and Shirayuki falls back. She stares up at him and he hates the pain in her face. She’s not touching him anymore. He wants her warmth back.
“Obi?”
He swallows. “No. We–we can’t do this.”
“What? Why?”
He opens his mouth, but he can’t make the words come. “We just can’t.”
Her expression shutters. “Right. Sorry.”
She doesn’t look at him as she grabs her book and house shoes and leaves the room.
He doesn’t call after her. He doesn’t follow. He doesn’t move until he hears her door click shut, then he buries his head in his hands and wonders when everything went wrong.