How do you know you’re in love?
History is populated with weeping women sitting on piles of headless flowers who never successfully managed to answer that timeless question.
Is it the moment his arms close around you, and you realize that you can breath again? Are you officially in love when catching sight of him, standing tall through the chaos, and your heart is suddenly as clumsy as the rest of you? Or is love found in the way he looks at you, worry simmering behind his calm eyes, and holds your face in his hands while you cry, torn because he doesn’t know what to do.
Watching the love of her life- a curious, calm, deeply emotional and twice as confusing man with more years on shoulders and more experience in his hands, Kagome Higurashi felt her heart clench protectively around her fears.
He’s too old for you.
There are too many cultural differences…
You know he can’t really love you—he must be missing something.
Kagome nearly flinched back as her mind oh-so-helpfully provided the mental image of his eyes, cold and alien; one day he’ll roll over and see you there, and realize that one flaw that he’s been missing, and he’ll disappear, and take your heart with him- still beating, like a clip from an Indiana Jones movie…
Kagome’s eyes were suddenly watering, and smelling the tears, he was before her in an instant.
He didn’t say anything; he’d heard it all before, all her little insecurities and confusions and teaspoons of pain. One hand reached up to stroke her hair back, and his lips touched her forehead, and she was undone.
Spilling against his chest, simultaneously ashamed, grateful, vulnerable and desperately confused, she sobbed against his chest. To the outsider- whom Sesshomaru would never have allowed to witness her pain anyway- Kagome’s display would have made no sense at all… and honestly it didn’t make much sense to Sesshomaru either, but he held his senseless female until the waterfalls stopped, and she loved him all the more for it when she finally came up for air.
How do you know you’re in love? Kagome Higurashi, who wasn’t even twenty, living in a world torn by war and anger and convictions, had no pretenses about understanding love. What she did know, though, was that even as the insecurity ate at her heart, it still beat for him.
Arms snaked around strong shoulders and pink lips met point ear. “Love, love, love, love you.”
Sesshoumaru’s eyes closed briefly and quietly his armored heart… fluttered. “Hn.”
__________________________________________________________________________
A/N; For my love, who holds me up when I’m weak and confused, and lets me shine when I’m strong, and makes me powerful with his ceaseless affection, no matter how cray-cray I get.