I gaped at him. Was he kidding? The room had about twelve tatami mats, and he called this isn't much. Shaking my head, I eased out of my slippers and entered. Who knew he was some sort of rich kid?
Kawashita closed the screen behind us and placed down my bag. I watched him padded across the room to turn on the heater beside a low square table for two while I uncoiled my red scarf. He glanced back at me, raised his hand, and beckoned me to come closer.
I did without thinking twice, placing my coat at the wooden small chair without legs called zaisu. Glancing around again, I smoothed out my hair into a low ponytail.
Four large plain white paper doors, fusuma, acted as the partition of whomever or whatever room was beside this one. The closet and an elevated area where a porcelain vase sat were at the other end.
"Reiko-senpai," Kawashita called, but I continued to the coated glass windows. "You could have brought a box of tea sweets or nothing at all, and you brought sake. A premium one. That must have been expensive. Is this how a true drinker gives out gift?"
Ignoring his words, I turned to him with a smile on my face. "You live in an inn, and you're wearing glasses."
He snorted, shaking his head. He drawled, "The sake."
"You're so stubborn." I sighed and sauntered back to the center and sat down on the tatami, stretching out my legs, letting the fatigue from the travel and this morning's headache washed over me. "It would have been rude if I didn't bring anything. I wasn't the one who called out of nowhere."
"There's a lot of souvenir sweets at the train station." He scowled and crawled towards me. "Do you want me to lay out the futon?"
"Maybe later," I answered before a yawn escaped me. "Not a true drinker, just a daughter of a former brewer. I didn't spend a yen on the sake. My father gave it to me for my birthday. I was only saving it for New Year's." I furrowed my eyebrows. "I thought I have mentioned it but my family owned a sake shop turned into a pub."
"That's the reason why you're such a good drinker?" he asked.
I tilted my head, considering before I nodded. "Now it's my turn."
"Your turn?" He stood and walked past me.
"Yes. You ignored me. You live in an inn, Kawashita-kun," I repeated.
He glanced back at me, smiling. "I told you this is not part of the inn. This is my old room."
"So you live in the inn now?"
"No." He chuckled. "I'll show you later."
With that, he turned his back on me again and opened the closet. I watched him took out the futon.
"Are your eyes bad? I never noticed you wearing contact lenses." I squinted at him as he turned towards me again.
"You and the glasses and you said I was stubborn," he said. His smile was playful. "It's just for fashion. Do you like it that much? Should I start wearing one?"
I rolled my eyes and snorted, not wanting to admit I liked it on him. "When did you ever care about fashion? You don't even care about brands of clothes. CDs, concerts, and music were far more important. That's your exact words."
"I forgot you have such good memory." He sounded sarcastic, but his smirk changed into a softer one. He kneeled down. "I met with childhood friends yesterday. We stayed up all night, and I was worried you'll find me less good-looking with my larger eye bags."
Crawling, I laughed and then lay down flat on my stomach on the half-opened futon. "Please, you've always had eye bags."
Kawashita mockingly widened his eyes while he smoothed out the futon. Our gaze met, and I raised an eyebrow. He only shook his head before turning away.
"So," I started, testing the water, feeling a little out of bounds all of the sudden. "Your date for Christmas Eve were your friends. You're all single?"
He puffed out and grabbed me in the shoulder, flipping me over. "I'm not single. Did you want a Christmas Eve date?"
My smirk faltered as he hit a mark.
"No," I said a little too late, seeming more like a lie.
"Well." Kawashita's face hovered over mine, inching closer that his eyeglasses almost touched the tip of my nose, our breaths casting a mist over the lenses. His eyes were glassy with desire.
"Well," I repeated, staring at him. A different hunger stirred in me.