Just Friends
Her confidant. Her advisor. Her clown. Her comforting shoulder. Her companion. Her friend.
They had known each other for quite some time now. They first met when they were 11 years old, back in the days of Tomoeda elementary. Now, after 10 years, they still kept contact. They formed a bond unlike any other: they fully understood each other. Many thought they should have dated, them being so close and all, but they silently agreed that it would never happen. Besides, he had been committed to another woman, an older woman since adolescence.
This older woman was beautiful. She had perfect olive skin, dark carrot hair and eyes of fawn. He had been engaged to this older woman for a good 5 years already. Five years? You would think they would have married by now.
"Why?" she asked her friend, with confused amethyst eyes. "Why haven't you married yet?"
He shrugged, his dark sapphire eyes cast to the floor. "I don't know. Something in my gut just says…" He trailed off, but she could fill in the blank.
She believed her best friend was in love, but was he ready? Did he propose to this woman because of duty? Was it because he had been courting this woman since he was 12 and that it was only natural for them to get married?
Probably. Then again, this brown-eyed woman is about 14 years his senior. She's always had relationships with younger men. Besides, he was quite mature; one of the qualities the violet-eyed beauty always loved.
Ok, wrong choice of words. Maybe not love, but like. Don't step on that thin line, dear Plum Blossom, or you'll get hurt. Remember how you felt when he told you of his engagement. It was 5 years ago; she and he both graduated out of high school. She made a deal with her friends, the Cherry Blossom and the Wolf, in which she would tell her blue-eyed friend she had strong, confusing feelings for him. But when she found out of his future nuptials, she silenced herself of the subject. Why? Because she felt that he must really be in love with her…and she didn't want to confuse him. But in reality, she thought she had lost.
"So long as the other person is happy, I'm happy," she would say. Always so considerate. Could she really be truly happy by this method? But that's just how the Plum Blossom is: always thinking of others before herself…
He called her and said he was in town for the weekend. He needed to talk with her. So, she dressed up. Her raven locks were pulled up in a cascade bun, with soft tendrils framing her face. Her dress was a contouring black one-shoulder strap; pure beauty like a modernized Greek goddess.
He came to her around 6 pm, dressed in a royal blue, long sleeve shirt, gray tie and black pants.
So, he picked her up and took her out to dinner.
"I'll be married really soon," he told her over dessert.
He must have thought bad news was good over some sweets. Was he aware of her feelings? She looked up at him, picking up her dessert fork. "You are? When?"
"In two days. In London."
"I'm very happy for you," she said, hoping she wouldn't choke up on her words.
He gave her a glance from under his small, oval glasses. "I know that you sent in your invitation already, but you will come to the wedding, right?"
She just smiled at him, not uttering a single word. She hoped he got the answer that he wanted. But her mind was actually screaming 'I don't know if I can…'
"Is that why you came back to Japan? To make sure I come?" she asked.
"I came to see you, mostly," he admitted.
"Me…" she sighed. She didn't feel like finishing her tiramisu.
"Aren't you excited?" she asked as they sat in King Penguin Park, looking at the stars.
He shrugged. "More like nervous. It's almost surreal. All I know is that nothing is going to be the same once it's all over…" he then turned to her, his azure orbs dancing as he looked to her. Her heart skipped a beat as he gazed at her.
What was this feeling she felt? Please! This was her best friend. Sure, he has a dazzling smile, a deep set of sapphire eyes, a smooth head of blue-black hair, a laugh that just makes her shine, a voice that makes her melt, a strong pair of arms that feels good when he holds you…the list could go around the earth…twice. The point is this: that does not mean she was in love with him. Love him as a friend; that is all…
…right?
He escorted her to her loft apartment.
"This is me," she said as they stood at her front door.
"Yeah…this is you," he reiterated.
"I--," she hesitated on her words.
His eyes looked at her, hoping…
"I…thank you," she flaked out. "For dinner and everything."
His eyes fell downcast. "No problem…it was my pleasure."
Awkward silence.
"Goodnight," and she kissed him on the cheek.
This was their custom ever since they were little. Every time they would say goodbye, she would give him a kiss on his right cheek and he would do the same to her.
But tonight he would change it all. He destroyed their custom. When it was his turn, he held her tightly in his arms. Shock ran through her spine. She called his name, confused. He looked down at her as he enveloped her in his embrace. "I don't want to leave…not yet." He bent down and kissed her pink lips for the first time. Her eyes widened, first in shock; then her eyes fluttered closed. When he pulled away, his eyes blazed with passion, hidden passion he has kept after all this time. And when she opened her eyes, hers were as well.
They pulled close, again, for another kiss, igniting something inside of each other that just started as a flicker. Eventually, they found their way inside her loft and found themselves to her queen-size bed.
Her mind clouded with desire. Her friend and she were in an unusual predicament. Maybe they shouldn't…but the way he called her name; it was as if he wanted her. So, she decided to let whatever happen. After all, "his happiness is my happiness."
Bobby pins were pulled off and lost, glasses were set aside on her vanity, and clothes were thrown off onto the floor. All was a quick, hurried haste. But, once on top of the bed, they took their time.
And so they danced a primal dance, one that many have done before; the one she had only dreamt about with him. Her skin burned by his mere touch. He sent fire up and down her veins. His kisses and touches were gentle, soft, and explored her body in a way she never allowed anyone. That night, in what seemed to be an endless summer night, she became his.
Many hours later, exhaustion consumed them. While he surrendered to sleep, she remained in thought throughout the night. He laid his head near the crook of her neck, his breath steady against her chest. Her arms were wrapped tightly around him, as if possessing him…
…but only for tonight. She had given her innocence to him, although he belonged to another. And she knew that. Gluttony is a deadly sin, Plum Blossom, I'm sure you know that. But when she had the chance to stop, she didn't. She didn't just step on that thin line, she ran across it.
Orange light made its way through her curtains. He would be wed tomorrow.
A tear fell down her face, then another…and another. She hoped maybe her feelings for him would wash away like her tears; she kept her sobs low so he would not awaken. He stirred, and then cuddled her closer. She silently broke down, her heart ripping into a million pieces.
He was her friend. Her best friend. Her confidant. Her advisor. Her clown. Her comforting shoulder. Her companion. But last night, he became her first lover. And she continued to cry softly because that was all they were and were allowed to be…
…just friends…
…fin…
Author's jibberish: Before I forget, CCS and its characters belong to CLAMP. I'm not rich so suing me won't do you any good. Tough luck. Anyway, I hope that was angsty enough. I woke up at 7 am one morning (don't know why) and I thought of this. So I typed and typed and finally got this in about 2 hours. Wow, that's really sad… it took me forever to process my thoughts correctly. Well, I hope you enjoyed it. I was thinking to continue this if I receive some good feedback. Anyway, ja ne!