Watching
by Kika
He's watching me again.
I used to hate when he did that. When I first started working for him, before we became serious, he would get distracted from his work and just sit behind his desk and look at me. It really disturbed me. . . I had never thought of myself as attractive, so I always
thought there was something on my face. Why else would he have been looking at me? To state the obvious, Rosenkreuz had not been big on promoting self esteem.
However, his stares no longer bother me. It is not so much that I have grown used to them, but that I have come to realize the true meaning behind them. I never have and likely never will be able to think of myself as good looking, but I know that what Omi is
seeing is not my outer appearance. . . not by itself anyway. When I see him looking at me, he's seeing me as I see him. . . perfect. I still find that amazing.
He loves me, and I can see that when he looks at me. If I happen to catch his eye in a glance, it is like the whole world around us screeches to a halt. No matter what stressful things are going on, one glance from him and it all goes away. In a dangerous life like ours, that can be dangerous, but it can also be lifesaving. That tightening I get in my chest when he looks at me, that quickening of my pulse, lets me know that there is feeling left in me, there is love. . . there is something in my life that makes it worth living.
He realizes now that I have caught him staring, and he grins that lopsided grin that he only shows when there is no one else around. A year ago I would have only scowled in return, but now I can smile back; I can return his gaze with love as powerful as that which he gives to me, knowing that amid all the stares he receives in public thanks to his high status, mine is always one he can appreciate, just as I can now appreciate his.
~ Omi ~
Ah, he caught me watching him again.
That is ok, though. This time last year I would be apologizing, even if only with my eyes, if we were somewhere where we could not talk, but now there is no need for that. He knows now that I like watching him, and even more importantly, he has accepted it. I think he may even secretly enjoy it.
In any case, I enjoy it. How could I not enjoy watching him? He is so beautiful, so graceful. He does not waste any movement -- everything he does has a purpose. I suppose the gift -- or curse, to hear him tell it -- of telekinesis will do that to you. Why waste physical movements when you have other means at your disposal? Of course, it has also improved his concentration beyond that of any of us `normal' people. I have seen him carry on a conversation while cooking dinner and floating a spatula to himself across a kitchen. Seriously, cooking in itself is task enough for me.
It is hard for things like that to surprise me anymore, though. After two years of living with him, seeing the amazing things that he can do, I am not easily impressed. There is very little Nagi cannot do, be it mental or physical. A lot of that comes from Rosenkreuz. The things they made him do there. . . I cannot begin to imagine it. Looking at him now, here in this professional setting, you would never think he could shrink in fear from a single word. But then again, Rosenkreuz is never discussed here at the office.
Here he is the bodyguard, the head of security, my own personal protector. Nothing gets past him; not the most concealed weapon or the tiniest bug. He is a symbol of security in Kritiker; new recruits look up to him with awe, and rightly so -- they can learn much from him, especially of control. When he is in bodyguard mode, there is nothing that can shake his imperturbable calm. But I know another side of the man they see here; something other than the brick wall that protects their boss. I have seen him flushed with anger, felt the walls shake with the telekinetic echoes of his rage. I've seen him with tears running down his face and have felt those tears soak through my shirt until my skin was damp with the evidence
of his despair. I have also seen him smile without reserve and heard his laugh echo in our bedroom; a true laugh, not the polite shadow of humor that he will sometimes grace a diplomat with.
When I look at him, I see all of that. Not just the calm, steady bodyguard, and not just the emotional man I have known him to be. I see the sum off all those parts, and that sum equals the whole; Nagi, who I love unreservedly. I cannot often look at him outside of our home as much as I would like to, but small glances like the one he just caught me taking can get me through the day. Just knowing that he is there, that he truly does exist.