Disclaimer--I don't own Noir. If I did, the shoujo-ai would be a lot more blatant and there'd be a lot more Mireille and Chloe fighting over Kirika. Instead it's owned by Ryoe Tsukimura, Bee Train (the guys who like to toy with our heads), and Victor Entertainment.
This story has yuri in it, so if you're under 18 and/or have a parent in the room, or if reading about two women making love squicks you out, don't read it.
Noir: Chaotic Lilies
By: Bulmafox
Chapter Three--Unthinkable
Author's note: I was inpired by "Unthinkable" by Alicia Keys.
Kirika lay sprawled out on the bed with a manga anthology she bought in the nearby Japanese district. She had taken to visiting once a month and picking up an issue; it was her way of more thoroughly exploring her native culture, in her native language. But today, reading was the last thing on her mind. Mireille had gone out shopping while Kirika was reading. Sometime after she left, Kirika had allowed her mind to wander. She wondered, not for the first time, what it would be like to kiss her partner; to hold her; to perhaps slam her against the door, slowly undress her, and--
The Japanese girl nearly flew into a panic when she heard the door unlock. She swallowed hard and stared at her book, trying to regain her usual calm composure. She pretended not to hear Mireille walk into the room.
Mireille coughed a little, to get her attention.
"Oh?" Kirika startled and looked up. She hoped her face didn't give away the thoughts she was having about her partner.
"You know, you could try coming with me sometimes. It gets lonely checking out the boutiques by myself."
"But...I wouldn't know what to buy."
"It doesn't matter; you could've kept me company. Do you know how many men I had to ward off by myself?"
"How many?"
"Enough. They all seem to think if an attractive woman is out by herself, that she's fair game. No matter what she thinks about it."
Kirika looked worried. "Did anyone...attack you?"
"No. It just would've been nice, having you there to ward them off. And try on nice clothes. And carry my clothes. And..."
"Okay, okay, next time I'll go."
"Thanks. Now I have something I want to show you." The blonde disappeared into the living room, where she had left her bags. "Which dress do you like better? The blue one?" Mireille asked when she reappeared. She held up the lovely cotton spaghetti strap dress. "Or the red one?" She held up an expensive, one-shouldered, silk number that had a slit running up the side.
Kirika swallowed hard and looked down. Really, either dress suited her partner. Or more to the point, Kirika didn't envision the blonde woman in a dress so much as she envisioned herself taking her out of it. "Either's fine," she said shyly, blushing.
"C'mon, Kirika. You have to have a preference. So which one?"
"Well...red has always..been your color...and..."
"Red it is." Mireille disappeared into the bathroom. A few minutes later, she came out wearing her hot little number.
Kirika glanced at Mireille out of the corner of her eye, then buried her face in her manga, red as a beet. "Um...you look nice."
Mireille huffed. "You didn't even look."
"Okay." Kirika looked up for a second before burying her face again. "You look nice."
"Well you're no fun. I'm gonna go read for a while. Feel free to try on something," she said, referring to the bags of clothes still on the table.
Kirika nodded her head. "Um-hmm."
She waited until Mireille had left, then looked up and sighed in relief. She absolutely could not let Mireille see her this way. She didn't know how Mireille would take it if she knew Kirika wanted to make love to her.
Kirika had to admit Mireille looked attractive in her red dress--*very* attractive. She pretended to read her manga, glancing up every so often at the beautiful woman she saw reclining at the dining table, reading a novel without a care in the world. She hoped her blonde partner wouldn't look up and see her staring.
After a while, Kirika decided she was no longer content with looking. She closed her manga and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She stripped and turned on the shower, but she wasn't interested in getting clean. She sat down in the stall and started touching herself, pretending it was Mireille touching her.
After she finished, the Japanese girl sat there and stared at the ceiling, wondering what to do with her feelings. She could always tell Mireille. There was a chance Mireille felt the same. But then, there was also a chance she didn't, and then where would Kirika be? It would make their living situation, as well as their relationship, extremely awkward. And Kirika was not interested in making things awkward, or in leaving. She decided to keep doing what she'd been doing; keeping her feelings hidden and taking care for herself when they got to be too much. She decided not to dwell on what she would do if that was no longer enough.
Kirika was startled out of her thoughts by a knock on the door. "Kirika? Did you die in there? I have to use it too, you know."
"I--I'm still alive. I just have to..." She turned off the shower, dried off, and got dressed.
"Well it's about time," Mireille scolded when Kirika finally opened up the door. "What were you doing in there, reading War and Peace?"
"War and what?"
"Never mind; let me through." Mireille said impatiently as she barged through and shut the door.
Kirika went back to the bed and opened her manga, facing the opposite direction this time. Mireille might suspect something if she took another shower so soon.
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A few days later, Kirika reluctantly accompanied Mireille to a clothing store the older woman had found the other day. Mireille spent all day trying out clothes, while Kirika followed her around, carrying them. She didn't mind, though. She liked seeing her partner in various states of dress...and undress.
"Kirika!" Mireille shouted from the dressing room. "I need help!"
She rushed in.
"Kirika, can you help me with this? I think it's stuck." Mireille asked, referring to the zipper on the back of her dress.
Kirika tried to pull the zipper up slowly, acutely aware of how close she was to touching Mireille's skin. She hoped Mireille wouldn't turn around and see her blushing and fumbling with the zipper.
"Kirika? What's wrong?"
"N-nothing." She gripped the zipper extra hard and yanked it up.
"Ow! Watch what you're doing!" Mireille bit.
"S-sorry." Kirika left the minute she was done.
The younger girl stood guard outside the dressing room, facing away, lest Mireille see her embarrassed face. "That zipper was perfectly fine. Next time, she can zip her own self," Kirika said to herself.
"What was that?"
Kirika looked at her partner--who had just stepped out of the dressing room--and quickly looked away. "Nothing." *Why did she have to wear that?* She asked herself, referring to the lovely white cocktail dress Mireille was wearing.
"You know, you should try on something, too. You'd look cute."
Kirika said, "Hmm."
Mireille disappeared back into the dressing room. A few minutes later she yelled, "Kirika!"
Kirika sighed and went in.
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Kirika lay in bed one afternoon, staring at the ceiling and thinking. Mireille had gone out for a while and told Kirika she didn't need to follow. She thought about her partner's behavior over the past week or so. It was weird. She knew Mireille liked to tease her, but she seemed to have ramped it up to eleven; Mireille purposely wearing around the flat the more revealing outfits she'd gotten being the latest example. It was like she was trying to provoke Kirika into....what? Kirika's brows furrowed. Was Mireille trying to get her to make a move on her? And if so, did that mean...Kirika's heart raced as she considered the possibility. Did Mireille feel the same about her?
And if she felt the same as her, and was trying to get Kirika to make the first move, then...that meant Mireille was waiting, too. Mireille was waiting for Kirika, and Kirika was waiting for Mireille, and so neither of them made a move. Kirika realized that if she didn't do something, then they'd both be waiting forever and nothing would get done. She didn't know if she was ready to make the first move...but she could try.
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When Mireille got home that evening, Kirika already had dinner made. The younger girl had decided to go ahead and get everything out of the way, so nothing could interrupt her. She'd rehearsed what to say ahead of time; she hoped she didn't lose her nerve when the time came.
After they finished and Kirika washed the dishes, she sat back down, across from her partner. "Mireille."
"Hmm?"
"I've noticed...your behavior...seems to have changed."
"Hmm? How?"
"Are you...trying to get me to do something?"
"What are you talking about?"
Kirika swallowed. This beating-around-the-bush thing wasn't working. "Mireille, what I'm trying to say is..." she took a deep breath, "A--are you...do you want to...um..."
"Yes?"
"...Mireiyu, do you...want to...um...make love to me?"
Mireille stayed silent for a minute. "...So you figured it out."
Kirika's heart lightened as she stood up slightly. "You too?"
Mireille's eyes widened. "You mean...?"
Kirika smiled. "Yes. I do. I didn't know if..."
Mireille leaned over the table and kissed her. "Does that...answer your question?"
Kirika nodded.
"Let's take this to the bedroom."
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Mireille and Kirika sat on the bed, both waiting for the other to make a move.
Kirika spoke first. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I didn't want to pressure you. I didn't want you to think you were obligated to..." Mireille trailed off. "Why didn't you say something?"
"Because..." Kirika shyly looked down, "I didn't think you wanted...I didn't think you felt...that way."
"So..."
"So..." Kirika tentatively leaned in. "Can I...?" She kissed Mireille tenderly.
Mireille responded by wrapping her arms around Kirika and deepening the kiss. She removed Kirika's shirt and lay her down. The blonde kissed her partner's neck while exploring her breasts.
Kirika arched her back as she slipped her hands under Mireille's shirt. She couldn't believe she was about to do this. "...Mireille?"
Mireille stopped. "Yes?"
"Is this real? I'm not dreaming...am I?"
Mireille shook her head. "No, you're not."
Kirika grinned.
Mireille continued doing what she was doing.
Kirika bunched up Mireille's shirt and ground her hips against her partner's. Her hand darted between Mireille's legs impatiently.
Mireille grabbed her partner's hand. "Not yet."
Kirika moved her hands back up her partner's back. She tugged on Mireille's shirt, indicating she wanted to take it off. The blonde paused long enough for Kirika to remove it, then resumed her activity.
When she was ready, Mireille moved down and devoted her attention to Kirika's breasts.
Kirika let out a moan upon being kissed there. "So-sorry."
Mireille looked up. "No, keep going."
Kirika held Mireille closely and tilted her head back while the blonde continued to please her. She decided she'd be content if Mireille stayed right there all night. On the other hand, Kirika was suddenly much more eager for her partner to move down. But she let Mireille set the pace.
When Mireille was done, she slowly kissed her way down until she reached Kirika's skirt. She removed the rest of Kirika's clothes, and the younger girl closed her eyes and lay back, in anticipation of what would come next. The older woman moved back up and buried her head between her partner's legs.
Kirika nearly came upon being licked. She had no idea Mireille could do that. She shoved Mireille's head closer and ground her hips, impatiently wanting her to finish her off right now. But Mireille was taking her time. Kirika lay back and breathed raggedly as her partner continued. She felt like she was slowly becoming a quivering mass of jello.
Just when Kirika thought she couldn't take anymore, it happened. She grabbed Mireille's head and sat up as her climax overwhelmed her. Afterward, Kirika lay back and basked for a minute in the afterglow, before Mireille moved back up.
"So...?" Her partner asked.
Kirika just hugged her tightly.
"That good, huh?" She teased.
Kirika nodded. "...Mireille...can I...be on top now?"
The blonde responded by rolling over.
Kirika straddled her partner. She looked at her quizzically. "Um..what should I do?"
"What do you want to do?"
The younger girl started at her partner's neck and proceeded to do what Mireille had done to her. She noted to herself when Mireille screamed the loudest and when she shied away. When she went between her lover's legs, she imitated what Mireille did. She felt herself grin as her partner shoved her head closer; proof that she was doing the right thing.
After her lover came, Kirika kissed up Mireille's inner thigh and started again...
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Kirika woke up the next morning from a wonderful dream. She had dreamt that she and Mireille had made love for the first time. She smiled and kept her eyes closed, trying to keep the feelings of the dream as long as she could. Then she felt something odd. Mireille always wore her button-up shirt to bed, but something seemed to have happened to it. The Japanese girl opened her eyes and realized her partner was naked. For that matter, Kirika noted, so was she! Kirika rolled over on to her back and stared at the ceiling as she realized that it probably wasn't a dream at all. She decided she'd think about it later, and got up to make breakfast.
A while later, Kirika heard Mireille stirring. "Mmm...something smells good," she heard her partner say.
"I'm fixing breakfast." Kirika hesitated a moment before asking, "...Mireille?"
"Hmm?"
"Um...did--did last night--did what happen last night really happen?"
Mireille quipped, "Kirika, I don't sleep in the nude for my health, you know."
Kirika said "Yes!" to herself and smiled.
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