It was all still so new to him, the way his sad and lonely reality, the life he had come to expect to last forever, had changed.
He sat by the fire pit, not saying anything, but watching her every move as she put away the supper dishes, then giving him a gentle smile, unfolded the futon and prepared their bed.
‘Our bed,’ he thought, and his mouth went dry.
This was only their third night together, and only the first night where there were no well-wishers to bring food or share a meal with them. Kagome had tried, once or twice, to get him to talk during their meal, but he was too tongue-tied to say much, except to tell her the food was good and to ask for seconds.
And now, as she bent over to make their bed, in this small house that had turned from just being a shack he had built to escape once in a while from the noise and eyes of well-meaning friends into a clean and inviting place that was beginning to whisper the idea of home, he was overcome with the need to let her know, somehow, of all the feelings welling up inside of him at the wonder of it all.
“I wish . . . ” he said softly. In the quiet of the room the soft words sounded very loud.
Kagome turned around and looked at him. She smiled, but there was some uncertainty in her eyes. “You wish?”
InuYasha moved next to her, took one of her hands in his. He looked down at how it looked in his, slight and delicate, so much smaller than his. “I wish . . . I wish I was one of those guys who was good with words.” He wrapped his fingers around her hand, looked up at her with a wry smile. “I wish I could say everything that’s here,” he said, moving her hand over his heart, “so that you could hear it.”
Her blue-gray eyes glittered, and her smile lit up her face like a sunrise. “But I do hear it, InuYasha. I could hear it from five hundred years away.”
She leaned towards him, brushed her lips across his. His arms wrapped around her, and pulled her into his lap. He kissed her hungrily.
“Does my heart tell you how much I want you?” he said, his voice low and husky.
“Of course, Koibito.” Her eyes were dark and wanton, but a touch of mirth touched her lips. “Why do you think I made the bed?”