You weren't supposed to be with him. Things just never stopped going wrong.

It was snowing, and when you exhaled slowly, your breath came out in a little white puff- a mini cloud, floating across the navy backdrop. The night was silent, and you sat, shivering pathetically on the park bench. He should've been there by then like he had promised, yes, but he had complicated circumstances he had to deal with. Sometimes, that was the way it was: he had no time for you.

You thought back to a day that had brought you more pain than the current situation.

You had been out, purchasing a cake for your mother's sixty-second birthday. The cake shop you had been in was small, and slightly cramped, but your friend had suggested that it was the best in town. Upon looking at the rows and rows of cakes, lined up in sheer perfection, you were definitely convinced. You remembered the one you nitpicked at, only to succumb to its appealing exterior. It was the second in the third row. It looked all chocolaty, delicious…your mouth watered at the thought of eating it.

"Ma'am, it's a chocolate peanut butter cake. Very good." The shop assistant had said patiently, probably wondering why you had been loitering around the cake display for so long.

Your perfectionist self was certainly not pleased- you had a horrible peanut allergy… But there it was, looking all large, and pretty, and presentable…you pondered for a moment longer, then said impulsively, "I'll take it."

Your conclusion was that it didn't matter if you didn't eat a slice of it. It wasn't even for you in the first place.

The shop assistant had put it in a rather classy-looking box, which you carried inside a plastic bag. You walked with it happily swinging at your side, glad that one chore you meant to finish was done with. There were other things to do (watering the flowers, purchasing new music stands for the kids in the orchestra club, getting some exercise), but they wouldn't take as much time.

You grinned goofily, walking forward when you reached the familiar intersection. Green light! Score.

You turned right, then you saw him.

For a second, your legs were about to carry you to him, as if their sole purpose was to do so. Then you stopped in your tracks. You remembered yourself getting shaky, almost plunging to the ground in that short moment.

He was having a passionate kiss with someone else.

It was all, tongues and lipstick and fingers tangled in hair. She was beautiful, you had mused. You noticed her glimmering brown hair in bouncy curls, those smouldering eyes that occasionally flitted open to gaze at him lustfully- those eyes the same colour as your mother's birthday cake.

Damn.

Luck wasn't on your side that day, no. Not then, and not ever.

You ended up throwing out the cake because it reminded you so much of her. You had returned to the cake shop, all breathless and staggering and-

"Ma'am? Shall I get you a tissue? Are you feeling okay?"

He told you later that day when he went to meet you secretly…the fact that he had gotten engaged to her in the matter of a single day because of his grandmother. "She comes from a wealthy family and has sass and class. It can't get any better than this for you, Azuma-san," he quoted his grandmother spitefully. "Pft, it can't get better for me?" He muttered darkly, in that voice that caught your breath in your throat, "Who the hell is she kidding, that old hag."

He didn't even notice you tearing up. He only kissed you angrily, lips forceful and rough and whispering "do you love me? Do you love me?" between gasps and huffs and breaths. But then why?

Why did his eyes betray such a horrible sadness?

When he had stopped hurting you for the day, golden eyes closed peacefully, you lied next to him. His fingers were tangled with yours and his hair was spread around him like a halo.

You listened to his ragged breathing, when almost silently, he whispered, "I want you, Kahoko."

He never stopped wanting. He kept taking and taking and taking.

The other time you were let down was when he had invited you to his wedding. How cruel he was.

You stood there stupidly, in your favourite blue gown. He walked down the aisle, taking her hand within his. Every breath you took became shakier, every second you stared at him you trembled a little harder. When he gently pushed an expensive-looking ring on her finger, you imagined you were her. You imagined being an heiress, bathing in his love.

And you cried.

During the after party, he had excused himself and subtly gestured towards you. He brought you to the restroom, locked you in a suffocating stall with him.

He was wearing that incomprehensibly sad expression again.

How come he was there, kissing you with that lovely, fiery passion? Shouldn't he have been with her? What was she doing anyway…was she lonely? Or was she chatting away happily with another guest, drowning in the satisfaction of being permitted to spend eternity with such an influential person?

You didn't want to think about what else you had done with him inside that cramped space, but…

How ironic?

Again, he had been whispering "do you love me? Do you love me?" as he broke you, bit by bit. Again and again, you had cried…

"I do."

You sighed wearily, wondering exactly what you were doing with your life.

Your skill with the violin wasn't taking you anywhere, especially when you compared yourself to Len. His career was rocketed up into the sky with one simple visit abroad. Your love for learning and teaching got you a simple, stable job, being an elementary school music teacher. It wasn't anything exciting though…

Your foolish first love with someone dangerous got you to become "the other woman".

The strange cacophony of silence suddenly assaulted you, and you stood up, boots crunching the snow beneath your feet. You walked, feeling tears stinging your eyes. Let them fall, you thought, they'll freeze in this weather anyway. You rubbed your eyes though, the scratchy texture of your woollen mittens awfully painful in the freezing weather.

Then you could hear him approaching, walking slowly despite his lateness.

Why did you love him anyway?

He was horrible at best. Contrasting with his image, he was so imperfect. He stopped at nothing to get what he wanted. He broke every rule there was, disregarding consequences and the like. He trampled upon peoples' feelings- upon your feelings. "You belong to me", he had said, as if you were a possession.

Oh, but then sometimes, he wore that unguarded, indescribable, somber expression...

"You're late."

He grunted in acknowledgment, putting his arm around your waist. He was so warm in the chilly air, his embrace so safe and secure.

You tried to shift away from him, but you had learned that his lean, elegant body was strong. He began trailing hot kisses down your neck, and you shivered, arm pushing at his chest in hopes of him letting go.

"Why must you be like this, Kahoko?" He said, nibbling your ear seductively and chuckling, "Have you missed me?"

You shook your head no, teeth gritted angrily.

He let go of you unexpectedly, eyes looking all-

"Stop looking all sad, like you're the victim!" You lashed out, surprising yourself. The next second, you were a mess: tears streaming down your face, cursing and shouting, fists hitting him as if they'd actually hurt him or something.

"How am I supposed to stand it when you just keep hurting me and expecting me to love you?" You complained, sobbing uselessly against the soft fabric of his coat. "Stop hurting me, please…" You murmured, squeezing your eyes shut so you wouldn't have to see his expression.

Your relationship with him was a constant rollercoaster. It was always such high ups and then such low downs. It was so fast and exhilarating that you couldn't catch your breath.

He was breathing slowly, and you knew that if you looked up at his face, he'd still look all victimized and guiltless. "What do I have to do for you to love me? I keep thinking that if I love you a little more, then you'll treat me better. I keep thinking that if I wish a little harder, you'll look at me. I just-"

He tilted your head up towards him gently.

And then he was looking at you and kissing you and loving you and-

"I want you…" He said, as ever, unable to say the word love and avoiding it like the plague.

But then, he had taken your hand.

"Let go of me," You yelled hoarsely, trying to yank your arm from his grip.

He took off your mitten gently, slipping a silver ring onto your finger.

"If I…" He hesitated, "Love you…if I love you, then you must please forgive me."

Ah! I can't believe I didn't remember to add a little section to the end of this for me to say stuff. Hahah! Thank you very much for the reviews! :) This fic turned out to be quite vague, blurry, and confusing... what I was trying to get at was kinda... a stream of consciousness effect, where you just get to observe a character's thoughts. Also... Ack! Yunoki's just a confusing character, what can I say! :B

I knew how I wanted it to end but left it quite obscure... I really wanted readers to come to their own conclusion. I guess for me, the meaning I was trying to get at was that he's committing to her, yes. I didn't really want to add in something along the lines of "oh he left his wife for me!" or "he's proposing to me yay!"... which disrupted the flow quite a bit. Hahahah! But yes... is it an engagement ring or just some sort of symbol for commitment? I'd hope it's an engagement ring and think of it that way. ;D

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it despite the obscurity! :')