Never Enough

by Angela

song quote at end: Barenaked Ladies: “Life in a Nutshell”

 

 

“Well. . . goodnight.”

I can’t believe this is it.  I can’t make myself believe that tonight we’ll say goodbye as sweethearts, go into our separate rooms, and tomorrow emerge as siblings.  It hurts deep in my chest where I thought the nerves were long dead.  It hurts everywhere and I don’t want to accept it.  I know we don’t have a choice; for once it doesn’t matter how much we love each other.  Her father is my father—that’s not the kind of thing we can just wish away.

            Miki looks up at me, her eyes sad, but dry.  We had a great day together, a wonderful trip—we should end this on a good note, so we won’t regret it later.  I try to hide my misery.  She knows it’s there, but there’s no need to make this harder for her.  I wish I could take away all her pain, deal with it myself.  It kills me to see her tremble.

            “Goodnight . . . ”  Her voice is quiet.

            I want to smile, to reassure her.  I can’t.

            I look down at the lock and turn my key, trying to shut out the image of her forlorn face.  If I look at her, I know I’ll lose my courage.  I bite my lip, trying to keep my tears in check long enough to get into the room.

            I try to think of something cheerful.  I mages from the past flash through my mind and my breath catches in my throat.  All my good memories are Miki.

           

We were never lovers.  Just sweethearts.  As much as I want to hold her, to kiss her and touch her, I know that I’m going to walk into my own room and she’ll walk into hers and I’ll spend the entire night staring at the wall that separates us.  But I don’t know how I’ll live the rest of my life knowing that there’s something I missed, some part of Miki I’ll never know.

            And what if she gets married?  Could I handle being “Uncle Yuu” while she has children with some other guy?  Impossible!  My mind flashes with rage, already hating this hypothetical man who will claim her.

            I have to accept that Miki can’t be mine anymore.  I take a deep breath.  How?  Ignoring my resolve, I glance over at her—I can’t go into my room without one more look.

            She’s staring at her door, not moving.  My chest constricts.

            “What’s wrong?” I ask.  Of course, I already know.

            Her eyes grow wide.  “Ah,” she stammers in that cute voice I love.  “No, nothi—”  She can’t finish the lie.

            My heart aches for her.  For us.  Even after all these months, I can’t think of her as my sister.  I still want to spend every moment with her, feel the warmth of her body when she hugs me.  Things that should feel wrong just don’t.  She’ll always be my Miki—the girl I’m in love with.

            I have to get ahold of myself.  I have to lighten the mood.  I’ve had seven yars to practice hiding my feelings—I have to pull through tonight, for Miki.  I smile.

            “Oh—I thought that you lost your key.  It is you, after all.”  It’s a bad joke, but it’s the best I’ve got.

            It works.  She smiles back.  “How cru-el!” she pounts.  It’s good to see her being playful.  If just for the moment, my heart lightens.  “I have it,” she protests.  “It’s in my pocket!”

            “Then hurry and go in your room.”  My grin isn’t forced now.  Miki’s smile is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.

            “You too . . .”

            She doesn’t move.  I can’t go until she does—I can’t leave her in the hallway all alone.  She watches me, her smile fading.

 

Her dark eyes flood with tears.

            With a tiny cry, she throws herself against me, muffling sobs against my chest.  I fall back, unable to do anything cut catch her and hold on.  The force of her tiny body hurts, but it has nothing to do with the sharp corner of the wall that jabs into my back.  She makes my body come alive in a way that used to be so good.  Now, knowing how impossible it is, the stirring is painful.  It’s so wrong, go feel this way about my sister!

            But it’s always felt right with Miki.  A tiny voice in the back of my mind reminds me that we’ve held each other, kissed each other before—how is this different?  I put my arms around her.

            “Yuu,” she whispers, her head on my shoulder.  “Yuu.”  The feel of her breath against my neck makes me shudder.

            Without even meaning to, she rips past all my emotional barriers as though they were nothing but damp rice paper.  With her choking sobs and the tears that soak through my shirt, she yanks my insides apart in a way I’d never imagined possible.  I long to do or say something that will make this better.

            The rigid ball of control inside me begins to unravel as her body leans into mine.  Sobs rack her tiny form and I can’t hold her tightly enough to keep her still.  Tears burn my eyes.  How am I expected to handle this?  How am I supposed to be strong when everything that matters is falling apart all around me?

            I clench my eyes shut as I realize that it’s not enough.  Even being related by blood isn’t enough to keep me from loving her.  How can something like this be wrong?  There’s no shame in falling in love.  Whose business is it that we share the same father?  Who’s to say that it makes it wrong for us to be together?  It’s killing us.  Suddenly, I don’t care about the consequences.

            I can’t spend the rest of my life pretending.  I can’t live as her brother, seeing her every day, without giving in—kissing her, holding her.  Probably more.  I love Miki.  She loves me.  Nothing can come between us.

            I snap.   

           

            Before I’m totally aware of what I’m doing, my hand closes around Miki’s arm and I yank her into my room.  I manage to slam the door shut behind us before I pull her up into my arms.  My key slips from my fingers and clatters to the ground, but my mind barely registers it.

            I’m kissing Miki.  The whirlwind of emotions swirling inside of me range from panic to relief, but in the forefront is the dizzy sensation of her kiss.  During our whole trip, during the time at home before we left, we haven’t kissed once.  Her lips are nourishment to me; living too many months without her has taken its toll and I’m like a man starved.

            She opens beneath me, her salty lips moving against mine with the same desperate hunger.  I feel her tears—still flowing—dampening my cheeks along with hers, and her hands clutching at the fabric of my shirt.  I tighten my arms around her, pulling her closer, pressing her more completely against me.  Having Miki in my arms after so long—it makes me feel like I can’t get close enough to her.

            After a long time, we pull away slowly.  In the dim light of my hotel room, I’m amazed at how lovely she it.  Her lips tremble and her eyes are red from crying, but to me she is the most incredible creature alive.

            Gazing down at her, I voice what I’ve been thinking since that day in the infirmary, the day we first kissed.  “Let’s get married.”

            She cries harder.

            Her distress makes me pause.  She has to know how much I mean it.  I force myself to go on.  “Of course, not right away.  But after I get a job and we can live on our own . . .”

            She wobbles, falling toward me and catching herself on my arms.  This is too much for her.  For a moment I wonder if I made a mistake, if I’m not making this even harder by ignoring our situation.

            “Wha—what are you saying?”  Even her voice is weak.  Her legs give out and she slides to her knees.  I fall with her, refusing to let go.  “That’s impossible . . . ”

            I get angry.  “It’s not impossible!” I yell, as if saying it louder will make it more true.  She can’t give up on me.  She can’t give up on us!  “From the viewpoint of the census registry we’re total strangers!  There isn’t any problem at all!”  I’m starting to believe what I’m saying and I cling to it.  It’s our only hope.

            “Because,” Miki cries, shaking her head wildly.  “Because we’re related by blood . . .” 

            I grasp her shoulders, desperate for her to understand me, to agree.  “Who cares about something like that!?”  My voice cracks as her eyes open in shock.  Is she disgusted?  For a moment I wonder if she’s already given up, already come to see me as a sibling.

            My confidence drains, and I let go of her.  Her shoulders droop, but she looks at me, startled.  “To give up,” I begin more quietly, “I can’t do that after all.”

            I pause.  Her expression is unchanged, but I notice her tears have stopped.

            Taking a deep breath, I try to steady the quiver in my voice.  “I’ve come to a resolution,” I tell her somberly.  “Common sense—even morals—for you, I’ll break them!”

            For a moment she looks hopeful, and I know I have a chance to convince her.  My heart swells.

            “I think it will be terribly hard to take,” I continue cautiously.  “We can’t have children . . .”  I look away.  This is especially hard for me to accept, but giving up an unborn, unconceived child is worth it to be close to Miki.  I reach out to touch her face, my fingers wiping away the last remnants of tears.  “We’ll probably be haunted by feelings of guilt forever,” I say.  “It may even turn out that we’ll spend our lives reproaching ourselves.”

            A tiny whimper escapes her throat and she licks her lips nervously.  I’ve never seen her look so uncertain.

            I fight to assure her.  “Even so,” I promise quietly, “I’ll show you that I’ll endure it.”  I’m scared of what I’m saying, but need for her runs deeper than fear.  “I”ll do anything if it means living with you,” I vow fiercely. 

My heart beats too loudly as I wait for her answer.  She just stares at me, frozen.  I understand that it’s hard for her—Miki’s always been more concerned than I am about right and wrong.  But aren’t we worth it?

            I take her hand.  “I want you to endure it together with me,” I prompt gently.  “Would that be unpleasant?”

            She moves her head without a word.  No.  A deep blush stains her cheeks and she shakes her head with more conviction.  No!  My lungs feel like they might burst.  Which question is she answering?

            Fresh tears spring into her eyes as she reaches for me.  Her fingers are warm on my neck as she twines them through my hair.  Her voice weak and her eyes mirroring the panic I feel, she speaks.  “We’ll do our best together.”

            Relief crashes over me and for a moment I think I’m drowning in joy.  I hold her close, finally letting go of the tears that had been building all evening.  Now there’s no reason for us to be parted, not ever again.

            “Together forever,” she whispers in my ear.  I just pull her closer.  Miki.  She’s the only thing I’ve got—she’s my whole life.  We kneel together like that for a long time, neither of us willing to let go.

 

            After what seems like hours, but not nearly long enough, Miki pulls carefully away.  She is smiling, her eyes bright.  “Yuu,” she says gently, her fingers pushing my hair from my eyes.

            I panic inside, realizing that she’s going to leave.

            She stands slowly, pulling her room key from her pocket.  I jump to my feet, wondering how she expects me to sleep tonight if she leaves.  Wouldn’t it be better just to stay?

            I don’t want her to go.  In the back of my mind, I’m scared that she’ll talk herself into changing her mind.  I’m scared that being all alone in her room will give her too much time to think about how hard this will be.

            Even more, I don’t want her out of my sight.  I’d already spent too much time away from her; the idea of five more hours alone in this room before breakfast is unthinkable.  She can’t leave me tonight.

            Tiny sparks of desire flame up as I imagine Miki curled up in my bed.

            “Stay,” I suggest urgently.  I grab her wrist, surprising her into dropping her key.

            She blinks at me, shocked.  “What?” she asks nervously, blushing.  This isn’t something we’ve ever talked about.  Even though I think about it—imagine making love to Miki and sleeping in her arms—I always assumed we’d get to it when the time was right.  For me, the time had been right for months, but I’d been waiting for some indication from her.

            I feel my cheeks redden.  “It’s okay, Miki,” I assure her.  I want to make love to her, but if she’s not ready, I can wait.  I still want her in my room, in my bed tonight.  My heart pounds mercilessly.  I wish I could feel as calm as I sound.  I slip my fingers from her wrist to her hand, lacing them around her knuckles.  “We don’t have to do anything.  I just don’t want to sleep away from you anymore.”

            “I—I . . .”  Her lips tremble; I want to kiss them still.  Not wanting to frighten her, I hold my desire in check.  Leaning down, careful not to touch her except with my lips, I capture her mouth gently.  Kissing her as softly as I know how, I try to show her just how much I love her.

            Her response is hesitant, but unmistakable.  Stepping closer to me, she slides her arms around my neck, pressing her whole body against mine as I deepen the kiss.  I slip my hands to her waist, then around to the low curve of her spine.  I can feel the heat of her skin through the thin material of her dress.  It makes my whole body shake.  She leans, pressing her breasts against my chest as she lets one hand trail lightly down my neck beneath my collar.  I feel dizzy—in another moment, I’ll lose control.

            As if she knows how close she’s brought me to the edge, Miki pulls away, looking up at me breathlessly.  “I want to,” she says quickly.  “I want to . . .  be with you tonight.”  Her face flushes a deep red and she looks away.

            My heart beats erratically as I stare down at her in amazement.  She’s so incredible, so cute.  I hook a finger under her chin and tilt her face so she looks t me again.  Her cheeks get redder still, and I laugh.

            “Don’t laugh,” she protests, flustered.

            I’m crazy with joy and I laugh harder.

            “Yuu!”  She shoves me.  Hard.

            Suddenly knocked off balance, I grab onto Miki as I fall.  We tumble onto the bed, landing in a tangle of limbs.  It takes a moment for my to get my bearings—all I can think of is how warm she is on top of me.  The thin fabric of her dress covers my eyes as we land, and Miki’s small breast press against my chin and mouth as I try to speak.  “Uhh . . .  Mi—“

            “Ehhh?”  She yanks away in an abrupt motion, covering her chest with her arms and flushing with indignation.  Her dark eyes flash angrily and I know I’m in trouble.

            “Sorry!”  I clench my eyes shut, and flinch, expecting a smack.  It’s not my fault, but I understand how Miki reacts.

            Nothing.  I peek through my lashes at her.

            She’s staring at me with an expression I’ve never seen before, a mixture of fear and astonishment.  She’s kneeling on the bed straddling my legs, the hem of her skirt bunched around her thighs.  Her arms wrap protectively around her torso.  I notice that she’s trembing.  My heart melts.

            She’s scared.

            She’s scared of me, of what we’re going to do tonight.

            “Miki,” I whisper, sitting up slowly and untangling out legs.  The bed squeaks beneath me, drawing our attention to the mattress, to the bed we’ll be sleeping on tonight.  Together.

            “Miki, I’m scared, too.”  As I say it, I realize the truth of my words.  This incredible, wonderful girl has promised to be my wife, to stand with me against impossible odds.  I owe her everything, but suddenly I’m shaking and I don’t know how much I have to offer.

            I reach out, smoothing her hair from her forehead.  I like it like this, soft and wispy.  She leans her head into my palm, nuzzling softly.

            “It’s okay,” she says in a low voice.  “I’m always okay with you.”  She crawls closer, putting her hands on my shoulders and kissing me gently.  I wrap my arms around her.

           

            She smells like summertime—like grass and flowers.  I undress her slowly, controlling my panic and excitement in order to do this right.  Each bit of clothing that falls to the floor is a promise—she and I won’t be separated.

            Her hands on my skin as she takes off my shirt is enough to make me crazy.  She kisses me, running her small hands down my back to tug at the waistband of my jeans.

            Looking at her in the half-light, her hair spread on the pillow and a blush on her cheeks, I’m grateful for our selfish parents.  How could I exist if I wasn’t here with Miki?

            We guide each other carefully, trying not to be too hesitant.  I’m astounded by the softness of Miki’s skin, the pale smoothness in the curves of her hips, her thighs.  Her body is everything I’d expected and far more—I hadn’t known to prepare myself for the onslaught of feelings that came just from looking at her.  Anxious to know her with all of my senses, I lick the ridge of her collarbone and trail my mouth lower.  She’s sweet.  She’s incredible.

            Bracing myself with my arms, I look down at her.  She’s shy and beautiful and I’m determined to remember her like this forever.  She touches my chest with her fingertips, sending tiny currents of electricity through my body.  “You’re sure?”  I ask, not moving.  I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.

            She nods, blushing.  “Yes, definitely.”

            I try to do it slowly, try to be careful so she won’t be hurt, but I’m surprised at how much I have to wrestle with my passion.  Even though we’re finally together, my body has a sense of urgency that’s hard to control.  When Miki flinches, bites her lip in sudden pain, I freeze, thinking I could stop, that it’s not worth it if it hurts her.  But she smiles at me, encouraging.  “It’s okay, Yuu.”  Tears gather in the corners of her eyes and I hesitate.  “It’s okay,” she repeats softly, her hand smoothing my cheek.  My own body drives me to continue, prompting me to believe her.

            We move together, and with each shift, each joining, I come closer and closer to understanding everything about Miki.  About myself.  She holds onto me, her eyes bright as they widen with each new sensation.  I realize that my bond with her is doubled, tripled—we were close before, but now we are the same.  I feel secure, knowing she is a part of me, that we can’t be torn apart now that we know each other so intimately.  Nothing stands between us now.

            We are one.

            “Yuu?”  Miki touches my face, showing me the moisture on her fingertips.  Her eyes are soft with love. 

            I’m crying?

 

            Both of us exhausted and emotionally ravaged, we lay together later, still naked beneath the sheets.  She nestles against my chest, her hair tickling me as I breathe.  I love her so much it’s a physical ache, but I’m happier than I can remember being in the whole eighteen years I’ve lived.  I slide my hand down the smooth skin of her back, wishing we could stay like this always—I know we can’t. 

            Between Miki and me it’s easy, but we still have to deal with our family.

            “When we get home, let’s talk to our parents about us.”

            She twists her neck to look up at me in astonishment.  “Huh?”

            I suspect that telling our parents the truth will make our relationship more solid—I’m afraid if we act like we’re ashamed of being together, then one day we’ll wake up really feeling that way.  “We know that we’re siblings, but I’ll explain exactly that we can’t be apart, and get them to give their permission.”  I sound more confident than I feel.  How to I confront our parents when I know they lied to us?  How do I tell them that we plan to live our lives in such a shocking way?

            Miki looks away, focusing on the ceiling.  “I wonder if they’ll let us.”  She sounds distant, sad.

            I try to reassure her.  “It’s those four people who lack common sense we’re talking about,” I remind her.  “So they could surprise us and simply give us an okay!”  I doubt it’ll be that easy, but I feel like they owe it to us.  If they weren’t so irresponsible, things would be a lot different.  “After all, the whole cause of the problem was that they were hiding something about the past . . .”

            “But,” Miki’s voice is small and shaky.  “What if they don’t give their permission?”

            I gather her close, enjoying the feel of her even as I worry over her words.  It’s a possibility we have to acknowledge, even though I’d rather forget for a moment, so we can enjoy the last hours of our vacation.

            There is no way they can take Miki from me.

            “Then . . . we’ll elope or something.”

            She cuddles close, shivering.  I understand.  It’s terrible to think that we may have to give up our parents, that they might not forgive us.  I hold Miki, willing her to fall asleep and forget for a while.  After all this stress she deserves her rest.  The hardest part is over.  We’re together now—that alone gives us the strength for anything.

 

//but I don’t tend to worry ‘bout the things that other people say

and I’m learning that I wouldn’t want it any other way

call me crazy, but it really doesn’t matter

all that matters to me is she//