Title: Just Perhaps

Author: Lisa

Rating: PG

Author's Notes:

Here's another ficlet from me! I seem to be on a kick of super short one-shots these days…hope you don't mind too much, as they're pretty fun to write. Please review at the end!

Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and the others don't belong to me, but this story does.

You know that feeling that you get when you like someone, I mean, really like someone? That immediate, exhilarating rush that goes straight to your head and leaves you feeling just a bit dizzy, your knees just a bit shaky, your palms sweaty, your heart clamoring, and your face hot? Well, I feel all those things and more every time I see him. Actually—who am I kidding—when I even so much as think about him really.

How pathetic was that? And what was a young, lively, possibly attractive (the jury was still out on that, at least in my mind) but tragically klutzy (I still maintain it wasn't really my fault that people happened to expertly place tables, chairs and walls for me to run into) girl like me to do in this situation? Not confess, surely, unless I felt particularly inclined to crawl into a corner and waste away in my shame immediately thereafter. No, apparently the solution was to bite his head off—not literally, of course—every time I "just so happened" to run into him. So began the month-long Usagi and Mamoru Show that ran every weekday morning, right around the time I was supposed to show up for Haruna-sensei's class. The scary part was how addicted I had become to this show. In fact, I had even started to enjoy weekends less because Saturdays and Sundays now denied me my daily fix.

I fiddled by the street corner prepared to make my entrance and, without fail, heard Mamoru's distinct footsteps approaching. He had a unique stride, steady and methodical, that allowed me to make sure I was barreling into him and not some poor unsuspecting stranger every morning. It also helped that he seemed obsessively punctual. Opposites attract, right? And it wasn't like I wanted to be late and get detention every day, but I digress...

As his footsteps neared, I filled my lungs with the crisp fall air, closed my eyes, and made my blind dash onto the sidewalk with a smile on my face that couldn't be helped.

"Oy, Odango Atama!"

My smile widened in receiving confirmation that I had hit once again my intended target. Cue the start of the latest episode of our riveting drama. "How many times do I have to tell you to watch where you're going?" I loved the deep, rumbling sound of his voice; he could yell at me all day for all I cared. I felt the muscles in his arms tense from supporting my weight beneath his shirt and wondered what it would be like to actually touch them without that pesky layer of fabric in the way. I was drowning in his warmth, his scent, and as always, it took all the willpower in me to extract myself from his unwilling embrace and distort my face into my trademark glare for him.

"And how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that, Mamo-baka?" Not the most original retort I would admit, but it seemed to get the job done.

He frowned, and I blessed every line on his forehead, the way his brow furrowed, and the slight downturn of his lips as he protested that hated nickname. He folded his arms in irritation and pinned those blue eyes on me. Who needed to go to the actual ocean when I could be swept away by the depths of those stormy blues every day? I mentally cringed at the sappiness of my thoughts, but how could I help myself? How could one man truly be that infuriatingly beautiful? It was further proof that life wasn't fair and that some people had all the luck.

"Do you always need to run so fast? With that speed and force, you'd think I was run over by a truck." He blessed me with another one of his glares while rubbing an aching shoulder.

"Well, why do you always have to be in my way? I have places to go and people to see, you know." Not any place or person I'd rather be or see more than in this very street corner, facing this oh-so-devastatingly handsome man, but he didn't need to know that. It would go straight to his head.

"No one's stopping you." He bowed dramatically as he moved out of my way with one graceful step. "I'm sure you have another math test to fail." Ouch. I hated that he was always right. It was as if he could read my mind or predict the future or something.

"You baka! Why don't you just…" I stopped there in case some higher power overhead and actually decided to make it reality. The truth was that I didn't want him to disappear. I wanted him beside me, all day, every day…preferably not looking at me as if I were the last person on Earth that he wanted to be interacting with. I wanted to feel those arms wrapped around me, his lips against my ear, whispering that he secretly enjoyed these little spats at much as I do.

"Why don't I just…" He was waiting for me to continue, I dazedly realized, but my brain had all but lost its ability to string together coherent words.

Without even a second's warning, I flung myself against him, causing him to stagger back against the lamppost from the unexpected weight. Throwing all caution to the wind, my arms were now desperately clawing at his chest, a month's worth of dreams and wistful thinking now coming to the forefront as I all but attacked the man with the full force of my pent-up desire. I reached up on my tiptoes and crashed my lips against his and savored the taste of chocolate and coffee that immediately infused my senses and left me craving more. My hands were drowning in that perfect hair of his that I now tousled with glee. I pushed myself closer still, until I could literally feel the pounding of his heart through my uniform. Still I wanted more, I wanted to drown in those impossibly strong hands that now grasped me with matching urgency…

"Odango?"

I knew it was too good to be true. If I could scream in equal parts frustration and embarrassment without scaring the poor man, I would. Instead, I shook my head to clear away the last of my traitorous fantasies, all too aware that my cheeks were now the color of ripe tomatoes. Wait, was that concern I detected in his voice? I peeked up at Mamoru, who was looking at me as if I'd suddenly grown two heads. How romantic.

I sighed and turned away from him to hide my humiliation. "Just go," I whispered, "I'm sure you have places to go and people to see too."

I thought for sure he would take off at the first opportunity and run from the girl who was clearly mentally unstable on top of a whole list of other issues. Instead, he lingered for reasons I couldn't fathom.

"I—" He faltered, and the tiniest part of me wondered if there was any conceivable chance…that maybe…I didn't disgust him as much as he led me to believe. "I guess I'll see you around then, Odango." It sounded like more of a question, yet one I didn't deem fit to answer. As his steps gradually faded into the distance, I turned to look at his retreating back.

So ended another episode of the Usagi and Mamoru Show, which had unfortunately concluded as predictably as the rest in the series. But one day, likely not tomorrow, maybe not even the next week or the month following…but one day, just perhaps, we would not part ways with insults.

Hmm, so what'd you think? If you've read my stuff before, you know I usually do Mamoru's p.o.v. in fics, but I decided to try my hand at something a little different this time! Hope it wasn't too horrible or off character or anything. Let me know what you think!

This story was written and posted September 2015.