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Chapter 226 Integration
Chapter 226 Integration
The temperature there is frighteningly high.
Bai Yu even felt that if someone were to place the back of their hand on the seam between his and Mirajane's bodies, they would feel an almost scorching heat.
The boat rocked again.
The more pronounced shaking compared to before was likely due to encountering a slightly larger wave.
Mirajane's body slid slightly into Bai Yu's arms due to the swaying. She instinctively tightened her arms, but instead of grabbing his clothes, she wrapped her arms around Bai Yu's waist.
Two hands came around his waist, their fingers interlacing at his lower back.
This change in posture completely altered the distance between the two people.
Even when they were very close, there were still some tiny gaps between them.
there's no more.
From the collarbone to the lower abdomen, from the chest to the waist, from the thighs to the knees, we applied the patches to every possible spot.
Bai Yu felt as if he had become someone surrounded by raging flames.
It's not the kind of raging fire that burns people, but a kind of fire that you wouldn't want to escape even if you were burned to ashes.
He was willing to burn in this fire, willing to turn into ashes, willing to give every atom of himself to this fire, so that they could rise with the flames into the night sky and become part of the stars.
Mirajae tightened her grip on his waist.
Her face was buried in his chest, her whole posture like a cat that had finally found its nest, curled up, a small and warm presence.
Her breathing became light and slow.
But that wasn't because he was asleep.
Bai Yu could sense it.
There is an almost indescribable difference between breathing while asleep and breathing unconsciously, but close proximity makes that difference incredibly clear.
She was not asleep.
She simply closed her eyes and surrendered her senses to her body.
He glanced down at her.
Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the boat awning, falling on her silvery-white hair and coating each strand with a cold, silvery sheen. Her eyelashes were long, casting a small fan-shaped shadow on her lower eyelids when her eyes were closed. Her lips were slightly parted, revealing a sliver of pearly white teeth.
Her face was very red.
It wasn't the flush from drinking alcohol, but a warm red that emanated from deep within her skin, as if something was burning inside her, the flames seeping through her skin and turning into this pale, almost rose-colored red.
Bai Yu's hand had moved from her waist at some point.
It's not going up, and it's not going down.
It's to the side.
His palm touched the small patch of skin on her side that wasn't covered by any clothing. It was a very small patch, only about two fingers wide, but the sensation there made him almost forget to breathe.
smooth.
Warm and smooth.
Like pebbles washed by the sea for millions of years, every inch of them carries the perfect curves and warmth bestowed by nature.
His fingers lingered on that patch of skin for a long time.
No movement.
Just stopping.
But he could feel the veins in his fingertips throbbing, and with each heartbeat, more blood was being pumped to his fingertips, making them even hotter, so hot that he felt he might leave a finger-shaped red mark on her skin.
Mirajane did not speak.
But her fingers tightened around his waist.
It's not a rejection.
It was not an invitation.
It's an admission—an admission that she knew his hand was there, an admission that she didn't mind, an admission that she might even want him to continue.
Bai Yu's hand moved slowly.
It wasn't a conscious decision; the body reacted faster than the brain, like two magnets that, at close enough distance, finally overcame the resistance of static friction and came together with an irresistible force.
His hand slid from her waist to her back.
There was a large expanse of skin that was not covered by any clothing.
The boat continued to rock.
The sound of the waves is like a song without lyrics. Each wave is a sentence, and each sentence is different, but when all the sentences are put together, they are repeating the same thing.
The night wind had suddenly picked up.
It whistled through every crevice of the ship, making the moonlight flicker and the stars dim.
But none of them went out.
The stars are still in the sky.
The moonlight was still on the sea.
Everything is still there.
Mirajane made a very soft sound in his arms.
It is not words.
It can't even be considered a meaningful syllable.
It was just a variation of a sigh, an extension of a breath, a barely audible sound squeezed from the deepest part of the throat.
But that sound made Bai Yu's entire spine go numb.
It was like an electric current running from his tailbone up his spine, through the gaps between each vertebra, and finally disappearing in a place on the back of his head that even he himself couldn't locate.
His hand roamed over her back.
There was no clear route, no specific goal, only an almost instinctive desire to explore—to know what her skin looked like in the moonlight, to know if her body temperature could remain unchanged in the night breeze, to know if the feeling of her in his palm would change over time.
She moved.
She changed from nestled against his chest to looking up at him.
The moonlight fell directly on her face, illuminating all her expressions clearly.
Mirajane's eyes were half-open, his pupils dilated in the darkness, almost swallowing the original color of his irises.
There was something in those eyes that Bai Yu had never seen before.
It is fragile.
It is a vulnerability that involves completely surrendering oneself, being undefended, and even dangerously vulnerable.
Like a wild cat, after countless attempts, it finally revealed its softest belly to a human.
Her lips moved.
No sound.
But Bai Yu read the lip movements correctly.
"Bai Yu, I want it."
This is not a call.
Yes, it's confirmed.
To confirm that he was still there, to confirm that all of this was real, to confirm that in this world full of uncertainty, there was at least one moment where she could let down her guard.
Bai Yu's hand moved from her back to her cheek.
His palm rested against her cheek, his fingers running through her silvery-white hair, his fingertips touching her scalp. The temperature there was higher than on her cheek, probably because her hair was so thick and sheltered from the night breeze.
Her face was very small in his palm.
So small that he felt he could cover it completely with one hand.
She closed her eyes and rubbed her face against his palm, like a cat being stroked.
Then her lips touched his palm.
Slower, lighter, and more ritualistic than a kiss, the lips touch the skin, linger for a second, and then leave.
But in that instant, Bai Yu felt every line and warmth on her lips.
She pulled her hand away from his waist, placed her right hand on the back of his hand that was resting on her cheek, and her left hand traveled up his chest, past his collarbone, past his throat, past his chin, and finally stopped at his lips.
Her fingers were cold.
It was cooler than his lips, at least.
The finger lingered on his lips for a moment, as if reading something written in Braille.
Then her fingers slowly traced the outline of his lips.
From the philtrum to the cupid's bow of the upper lip, from the cupid's bow of the upper lip to the corner of the lip, from the left corner of the lip to the right corner of the lip, from the upper lip to the lower lip—she drew a circle.
Because when her finger returned to the starting point, their faces were already incredibly close.
The tips of their noses touched.
Their breaths mingled completely.
Bai Yu could no longer distinguish which air he inhaled and which she exhaled; they were mixed together, becoming their shared breath, inhaled into their shared bodies, and then exhaled together.
The boat rocked slightly.
The magnitude was greater than any previous one.
There might be a less-than-friendly wave coming.
It might not be.
It could also be the sea expressing some emotion, such as jealousy, blessing, or some other unique emotion that humans can never understand.
Their lips touched during the movement.
It wasn't the result of getting close on purpose.
It is an inevitable law of physics: when the distance between two objects is so small as to be negligible, any external force will cause them to come into contact.
Mirajane did not back down.
Bai Yu did not retreat.
So their lips stayed pressed together after that swaying motion.
There was no deep kiss.
There was no entanglement of tongues.
There wasn't even any extra pressure.
It's just pasted on.
The upper lip pressed against the lower lip, and the lower lip pressed against the upper lip; the four lips were precisely interlocked in an almost architectural way, as if they were born for each other.
But simply labeling it with those four words can describe very little.
It cannot describe the tingling, numbing sensation, like being continuously stimulated by a microcurrent, when lips touch.
It cannot describe the physiological reaction of two people's heartbeats accelerating simultaneously in an instant.
It couldn't describe the blank feeling at the back of Bai Yu's head, as if something had exploded.
It cannot describe the force with which Mirajane's fingers tightened suddenly, until his knuckles turned white.
It cannot describe the coincidence that the night wind suddenly stopped at this moment.
It also cannot describe the gentle whisper of the waves at this moment.
The kiss lasted a long time.
In that state, the perception of time is completely lost.
Mirajane stepped back first.
But they didn't retreat very far.
Retreat to a distance where even a single breath can still entangle us.
She stared at him with her eyes open, the moonlight frosting her pupils, making her gaze appear both clear and dreamy.
"White Feather."
This time she spoke up.
But the voice was too soft, as if afraid of disturbing Rangiku who was still sleeping behind her, or as if afraid of disturbing her own rationality.
Bai Yu's voice was also very soft.
Mirajane tilted her head.
The movement was so small that it would have been completely unnoticed if we hadn't been so close.
But Bai Yu noticed it.
He also noticed the moment Mirajane's lips came close again.
This time it wasn't an accident.
It's not shaking.
It is not a law of physics.
It was her initiative, her conscious approach, and her clear intention that led her to get closer.
Their lips met again.
This time it took a few seconds longer than the last time.
In those few seconds, Bai Yu felt her lips move from one position on his upper lip to another, felt her lips open into an almost invisible gap, and felt something warm and moist behind that gap.
Then he felt his lips doing the same thing.
They didn't speak.
I want to be closer to you.
"Even closer."
"So close that there's no distance between us."
"No, so close that the distance becomes negative."
"So close that I can't tell where your boundary is or where my beginning is."
"So close that I can find my own temperature in your body temperature."
"Close enough for me."
"
Mirajane's arms wrapped around his waist again.
But this time his embrace was even tighter, so tight that her entire upper body was pressed against him, without a single gap.
The softness of her chest changed shape under this pressure, transforming from a hemispherical shape into a flatter form, spreading out along the curve of his pectoral muscles like a warm, breathing ball of cotton.
Bai Yu's hand slid from her cheek to the back of her neck.
There was a small patch where hair couldn't grow, and the skin was so thin that you could almost see the bluish veins underneath.
His fingers lingered there for a moment, feeling her pulse, which beat very quickly, so quickly that it didn't seem like the rhythm of someone who was about to fall asleep.
Then his fingers moved down her cervical spine, vertebra by vertebra.
Mirajane removed his hand from Bai Yu's waist and began searching for something on his body.
Fingers slid from his waist to his abdomen, from his abdomen to his chest, from his chest to his collarbone, and from his collarbone to his shoulder.
Then her hands rested on his shoulders.
It's not being carried along.
It means to seize it.
It refers to the force of the fingertips sinking into the muscle.
The boat rocked again.
This swaying caused a qualitative change in the posture of the two people.
Mirajane, who had been nestled sideways in his arms, was now turned around by the tilt of the boat and was sitting face-to-face on his lap.
This is a completely different dimension.
No matter how intimate we were before, it was always from the side, from the front, or from a certain fixed angle.
But now it's all-around, no-blind-spot contact.
Her knees were wrapped around his waist.
Her inner thigh was pressed against his outer thigh.
Her abdomen rested on the softest part of his abdomen.
Her chest was directly opposite his chest.
Her face was less than a few centimeters away from his.
This position allowed her entire body weight to fall on him, without the support of a chair or any shift in angle. Her complete, full adult female body, carrying all her body heat and weight, pressed down on him.
He could feel his heartbeat travel from his chest down to his abdomen, from his abdomen to his thighs, from his thighs to his calves, and finally even his toes were thumping in sync with his heartbeat.
Mirajane's face was redder than if it hadn't been illuminated by moonlight.
Her breathing became erratic, and her chest heaved much more dramatically than before. With each breath, she was closing the already compressed distance between their chests.
The moonlight shone from behind her, creating a silvery-white halo around her. Her hair, because of this posture, was completely draped down, falling on both sides of her shoulders like a silvery-white waterfall.
Bai Yu heard every word Mirajane said clearly.
Then his hand slid from the back of her neck down her back, along her spine, past the clasp of her bra, past the subtle indentation above her lower back, and finally stopped at—
His fingers lingered there for a long time.
Mirajane's breathing changed from rapid to long and even, and then it became a trembling sound, as if she was enduring something.
But her hand did not stop her.
Her body showed no signs of rejection.
Quite the opposite.
She slightly hunched her back.
That movement shifted her upper body's center of gravity, causing her chest to press more tightly against him, and allowing his fingers to reach places they couldn't reach before.
Bai Yu placed his palm on that spot.
It's not a cover.
It is a lift.
Mirajane sensed it.
Her body tensed abruptly the moment his palm touched hers, like a fully drawn bow, every muscle fiber stretched to its limit. Her head snapped back, her silver-white hair arcing through the air, revealing her complete, unobstructed neckline.
From the chin to the Adam's apple, from the Adam's apple to the collarbone, from the collarbone to the suprasternal notch, this line is so beautiful in the moonlight that it seems like something a human should not possess.
Bai Yu's gaze fell on that line.