She was talking to that boy again.
And he was in hiding again.
But it was the only way he could watch her. He wasn't stalking, he was…observing. He couldn't go near her. She would be frightened. This was the only way.
He watched as the two of them walked down the street together. She smiled at him, and the shy, dark haired boy decided to play brave and nervously took her hand. Anger broiled in his veins. No one touched her hand. No one. No one but himself. The hand was made for him. No one had the right to hold her hand like that, and yet… the boy was holding it.
He scowled, half expecting her to shrug away. She wasn't like that: she didn't play with affections like that.
She had to know he was alive. She had to. She had been waiting for so long, and he'd told her he'd come back. And he was a man that kept his promises, no matter how appalling the odds were.
The boy leaned in slightly, hesitating to place a gentle kiss on her lips, but she turned away, only to have him brush his lips against her cheek. Relief flooded through him, but was quickly replaced by a veil of red anger that passed through his senses.
That boy, yes, boy for he was no older than seventeen, was trespassing on what was not his. She didn't need a boy like him. She needed a man. Someone to hold her during her nightmares, someone to comfort her during the sleepless nights after a battle, someone to watch her smile, her true, happy smile, the smile that no one but him knew she possessed, and only him knew how to bring out. She needed someone that knew exactly what to say to make that lovely blush spread across her cheeks.
She needed him.
She had to know it. She had to feel the pain of separation. He wanted her to miss him, feel empty without him by her side, wanted her to need him too.
Because he sure as hell need her.
It was painful to admit. His nymph had always prided herself as being an indepent woman, and now here he was, needing her touch, her taste, almost as much as he needed air. It spoke of weakness that he needed her so, but the fact was, he did. She was his air, his water, his everything... she was his. And she would be eternally his, because they had both sworn it so, back in an ancient kingdom that no longer existed, in the shores of an ocean that had long since evaporated. Not forever, because forever didn't last. What they had thought was forever had been destroyed, stolen from them in a moment of sick passion and then burned along the inhabitants of the peaceful Moon. It was gone.
Renewed anger boiled in him. His eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists tightly. The boy had no right to take what didn't belong to him. Her heart was not that child's. It belonged to no one but himself.
He wanted to threaten the intruder by pressing the blade of his crystals calmly against his throat, to make him swear he wouldn't ever go near her ever again. She would be furious. She would yell at him. Venom would burn in her eyes.
And maybe she'd hate him.
And he didn't want that. Anything but that.
As much as he wanted to walk up to them and yank her away from the boy's hold, scare that child and make sure he never ever laid eyes on his property again, he couldn't. He was scared. Scared that she would reject him. Scared of being hated by her. He had hurt her before. He had betrayed her before. He had broken promises before. And he knew what promises meant to her.
He had been a monster, and she had been scared.
Maybe that was the sadness she always held in her eyes. His betrayals. It was like she already knew.
It wasn't fair.
They had been so great; they hadn't asked anything more from life. Together they had taught each other so many things they never knew they could experience. Happiness, acceptance. He wasn't perfect, he'd made mistakes, but he wasn't a bad person. He didn't deserve it. They didn't deserve it.
He shook the memories away and concentrated on her again. He fought back another scowl and continued following the two, until it came to the intersection where they parted. It was a joy to see the boy loosen his hold on her small hand. Heaven to see her wave farewell at him and continue on without a backward glance.
Silently, he followed her, pondering at numerous thoughts that continue to haunt him, and the deep fear that was buried within his heart: did she remember?
Of course she couldn't forget. Everything they shared, every precious second had been stored in his memory, never to be washed away; even when under Beryl's control, he had nightmares, or perhaps dreams. Faint flashes of familiar, comforting blue eyes that gazed at him with complete trust. Memory was forever. It lasted forever. It had been simply stored in a small, dark corner of his mind. He just had to find it. Find the strength to find it. But when he did, it was already too late.
He growled. The red haired bitch had ruined everything for all of them. They had been her puppets, playing the roles she had chosen, all of them fighting for the main goal: to succeed.
Only he had been succeeding on the wrong side.
She turned them all against each other. They had no control whatsoever. Not after Beryl was done with them. She took great pleasure in brainwashing them, making sure nothing but empty shells were left where once the proud Shitennou had existed
He felt his hands clench into fists by his sides, felt his jaw set so tightly it was beginning to create a dull ache.
Beryl had been kind enough to tell him of exactly how he killed Mercury the day he had came back reporting that his plan had failed.
He had been confused, not understanding why Beryl was telling him something he did not remember. But when the black energy struck his chest and launched him backwards across the room, and when the solid stone wall came in contact with his back and he opened his mouth to scream, then something clicked into place.
One simple word unlocked everything to his past. Beryl's spell was broken as she spoke her name, a name that had been long forgotten in human history--- a name he had come to love and adore while he had been Zoisite, Warrior King of the West under the rule of Endymion, King of Earth
Arethusa… that had been her name, was her name- Princess of Mercury, Senshi of Ice. None of that mattered to him, except that she had been his.
It told him that was why a graceful goddess often haunted his dreams, and it told him why he sometimes doubted Beryl's actions.
His chest tightened. Beryl had been sadistic enough to tell him everything, down to the very last detail. It was as if he was reliving it again. He could picture his love's face, her pure, blue eyes widening as she realized the man she loved, the man she had thought dead was not the one standing before her. However, by that time, he had already held her tightly against him, the long, sharp crystal blade pressed harshly against her soft throat. It had been quite the source of amusement to him the fact that it was the same crystal from which he had often carved little figurines for her.
Only this time it had been her biggest surprise.
He could feel her heart racing, not by infatuation, but by fear. He could feel the sick pleasure he had felt when the crystal slowly cut into the porcelain skin, staining the pale color with thin trickles of crimson.
And she, his love, being the little stubborn nymph he had always secretly admired, struggled. But the crystal sunk in deeper with each twist and turn, and she had whimpered, beginning to loose precious energy.
She had realized she was going to die, had probably acknowledged it when she saw the evil sneer on his face, saw the blank, empty way his eyes burned hatred at her.
But then she had suddenly turned, and released the last ounce of energy she had willed herself to make into his body, into his heart. The place he said she would always claim. She had taken him by complete surprise. He could remember his slight admiration, mixed in with all the hate.
She had cried when he had clutched at his chest, the fresh blood seeping out from his gray uniform onto his snow-white gloves. The fresh drops bleeding onto the cold ground, and she had apologized, over and over again.
His eyes had cleared, and he had found himself once again looking at her. He was looking at her. Not the monster Beryl had created. He had seen her blood, called her name, asked her to please stop crying, he had told her he'd kill whatever bastard dared to make her cry.
He didn't know it was himself.
His world and consciousness were slowly slipping away. The last whisper that slid through his lips was that he'd come back to her, for her to wait for him, because by Selene he'd come back.
He had choked, and his eyes had died.
Zoisite couldn't stop the images from coming back. He had nightmares. He'd wake drenched in sweat, fingers clawed, sheets twisted. He could see the scene over and over again, because memories didn't die. Sometimes he wished they did.
And right now, he ached. She was standing so close, yet so far away; all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms. His fingers itched to run through her silky indigo locks. His body starved for the feel of hers up against his. His lips craved her taste.
Just looking at her was not enough. Not anymore.
He let out a small sigh into the cold Tokyo air and jammed his hands deep into his pockets. He couldn't follow her around like this forever. She'd realize it at some point he was following her, she wasn't stupid, she was far from it, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to keep his want, no, his need for her under control any longer.
He'd been dreaming about her for a millennia, he had planned so carefully their first, or was it second? meeting, he had even wished on Nephrite's goddamn stars for her. And now she was standing right there, and he was at a complete loss as to how to approach her
Silently, he crept several strides closer towards her, ducking quickly behind a tree when she dropped her book. She cautiously bent down and picked the heavy thing up, her graceful body straightening as she brushed a lock of cobalt hair behind her ear.
He grinned wryly. Her hair has always been the one thing that made her stand out from the other Inner Senshi at first glance. She was impossible not to notice, and she used to hate the attention. A stranger would always catch a glimpse of her hair and stop to admire her elegance, and from her elegance they would gawk at how beautiful she really could be. It used to drive him mad seeing other planet's lords and princes watching her with ideas on their minds, he could imagine what they were thinking. Hell, he himself was probably thinking about the same thing at the same time.
But her polite and quiet self would always turn them off. It was like a signal, her impersonal 'thank you's', telling them that she was not interested.
He remembered her trying the same trick on him. He hadn't been fooled so easily like the others. He saw right through her. She wasn't what she wanted everyone to think.
But perhaps it was just his determination that got in the way. He was young, and if he wanted something, he was going to have it.
He remembered her being furious once, when she discovered he had placed a bet with Jadeite. The bet was that he'd get her to fall head-over-heels in love with him, like the dozens of other women in his lifetime. It may have seemed cliched, but that's exactly what he did. He could remember the hurt and pain evident in her once trusting eyes, and how they realized the owner's mistake and suddenly there was an invisible shield protecting her emotions.
She had then ignored him for a whole month. He had tried telling himself she was just like the others, the women before her, but deep down, he knew better. It felt like a small pinprick was stabbed into his heart every time she refused to look at him during meals, every time she decided she 'coincidentally' had something she had to attend to when he appeared.
He had been foolish, but he'd retrieve the sun itself if he had to, to win her heart back.
A chilling through suddenly sprung forth. She had had many suitors before and after he came along. Would that mean they'd be reborn as well? He could remember with crystal clear accuracy how jealousy had almost driven him mad at times, watching her smile and greet every philanderer lord as if they were the most important guests in the Universe. That was his little nymph; she respected protocol to the T, and if it meant suffering through entire hours of leers and attempted gropes, then she'd do so. One of them had stood out amongst the mass of perverted royals, perhaps because he wasn't really perverted nor a member of any royal family. He had been just a scribe, but watching him with Arethusa Zoisite had known he was different. He had later learned the quiet secretary was also a Seer. But that didn't make him a threat. The fact that Arethusa appeared to somehow return his affections was.
A deep worry suddenly seeped into his heart. If he was reborn then so would the scribe. What if he got to her first?
Angrily, he kicked a rock out of his way and almost cursed when she turned around swiftly, her deep blue eyes narrowed in slight suspicion, her hand gripping at the edge of her shirt pocket, where he knew her transformation pen was hidden.
He watched her from behind the corner, and waited until she turned back around, her speed increasing with each step.
Of course it wouldn't matter. She had confessed to him later, after he caught her wrist and forced her to talk to him, that she never cared about the scribe. She had thought she would be able to forget about him if he had someone else. She had pointed out that the seer was sweet and nice, not the egotistic bastard he himself was. Then she had pulled away and ran off. That was the exact way she had put it, and the names had stung. But it was probably nothing compared to the blow she had received when the truth about the bet had come out.
Zoisite closed his eyes for a second and then reopened them. All this thinking, all this remembering, his head was beginning to hurt. He was begging his mind to stop. He was getting upset with all these memories… everything that he had done wrong.
If he had the chance, he would start all over again, never to make the same mistakes.
He saw the familiar arcade slowly approaching. He knew her house was a block down the arcade's side alley. He knew that she always went in the arcade just for a few minutes to say hi to her friends and grab a snack. He knew which table they sat at. He knew what her favorite drink was. White chocolate frappuccino with extra whipped crème.
He wasn't a stalker. Stalker was too harsh of a word.
His hawk eyes watched as she went into the arcade through the glass doors. Her face lit up into a joyous smile as a dark haired friend waved her over. She took off her white scarf and placed it on the table, along with her heavy books.
She was always so pretty in white. So pure. Like the water itself.
He waited for her to finish her drink, finish chatting and listening to gossip from her friends.
He knew before she did when she'd come out. Something changed in the air, in his heart, that told him she would be the next to exit the place. He hoped he wouldn't scare her. He really wanted to talk to her today.
Silently, he prayed to the goddess Gaia for strength. He couldn't take rejection. Not from her.
He leaned against the dewy wall of the alley, keeping one eye on the door to the arcade. He was a wreck. Nervousness made his palms sweat and he could swear his heart was about to explode. He couldn't chase it away. His head bumped against the brick wall and he closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath.
In five minutes, she would be walking out of that door, unsuspecting, going home and opening her books. Today she'd be on page 19 of her Calculus book.
He ran a hand across his face. His fingers were cold, his palms clammy.
He heard the door swing open, the cheerful bells breaking the chilly silence. Secretly, he prayed that it wasn't her. He wasn't prepared yet. He didn't know what to say.
He took a peek around the wall that safely hid him.
It was her.
Her creamy white scarf wrapped snuggly around her neck, her cheeks flushed prettily from the cold air after the heated arcade.
She looked so damn good he just wanted to kiss her senseless. Even with all the layers of clothing covering her petite body, he could remember her sweet curves and supple hips. Her body called to him like a siren's song--- it had once been his, and right now, in his mind, it was calling for him again.
He was going insane.
Damn her and what she was doing to him. He had always thought it was the other way around.
She was walking by now. She was so close. He could smell her shampoo; it was like lily petals in water. Some things never changed, he mused, even if she was reborn on a different planet, in a different time period.
Time seemed to slow down until it became almost still. The frill of her skirt brushed against his legs as she walked by, and suddenly it was too much. He was reaching out to her, capturing her slim wrist between his hands, pulling her against him with force that he hadn't meant to use.
He didn't see the expression on her face, but heard her surprised gasp. That was enough to make him crush her against the wall, his mouth hungrily slanting over hers. He had the element of surprise, and he used it to his advantage. There was nothing gentle about the way he kissed her, only want, only need. He had been waiting for so long; he had been trapped only in his memories for what seemed like eternity. He had dreamed and fantasized for decades, and it was only about her. All about her.
The all too familiar taste was driving him up the wall; a sensation of icy hot, cool one second and hot the next, and yet it was different. He wasn't so sure if he liked the change. Briefly he wondered why her arms weren't around his neck, pulling them closer together.
And it didn't take any longer to realize that she wasn't responding to his kiss.
He hesitated and drew back, every cell in his body screaming in protest as he loosened his grip on her just a touch .
Guilt ran through him as her weak whimper reached his ears. She was afraid?
"Don't r-rape me…" Her large blue eyes pleaded at him, blinking rapidly to keep back the tears threatening to pour out. She clutched her figureless coat around her tightly, and she was pushing herself against the wall, as if wanting to disappear. She reminded him of a rabbit being chased by packs of dangerous dogs.
His heart sunk. That was exactly what he was. Dangerous. Did she not remember? The world shivered around him as nausea grabbed hold of him, and he felt suddenly lightheaded, almost as if he was being pulled from two sides at the same time.
He choked, he was still the same, nothing had changed. He had only thought about his own need.
He stumbled backwards a few inches, his eyes staring at her in shock and guilt.
He was selfish.
By Selene she had thought he was going to rape her!
He didn't know what was worse, her not recognizing him, or her thinking he could take advantage of her.
Then suddenly, it seemed as if their relationship had always been rocky.
Had he always been like this? Expecting to get everything he wanted. If he wanted Arethusa, he'd get her, if he wanted to kiss her, he'd kiss her, if he wanted her in his bed that night, he'd have her in his bed.
He shut his eyes tightly to keep from going down memory lane, and swallowed.
"Selene…I'm sorry Are..."
He wasn't always the demanding bastard. He had his sweet and sensitive times, but right now none of that registered through his senses.
Her eyes widened, confusion seeping into them like a maelstrom. 'Are' had been a childhood nickname of hers, he knew, one only her father had used. Arethusa was known in the 10th century as a nymph, connected to springs of small fountains. The magical maiden had fled the advances of one God River, Alpheus, and had been turned into the spring in Greece that now bore her name. All of this Zoisite knew, and even more.
Her eyes flickered to the small green zoisite stud in his ear for a millisecond, they remained blank. He felt a pang in his heart. She had always told him how much she loved the earring, how it matched so perfectly with his eyes.
"H-How do you know that...?"
Her hand found its way into her shirt pocket and she pressed herself closer to the dirty wall. Her wide doe eyes enticing him and rejecting him at the same time
Without realizing it, he took a step closer and reached out, but quickly drew back when she winced and ducked slightly, afraid of his touch.
"You remember don't you?" He asked hoarsely, his mind barely functioning as she shook her head.
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He could barely register that he was clutching onto her shoulders, like a desperate man does his last hope.
By then her eyes had already widened to the size of saucers.
"G-get away from me…" She shrugged out of his grip forcefully, her blue eyes suddenly bright with anger, as if someone had lit a burning match in the deep blue color. "I'm going to scream if you don't get away from me right now." Her hand slipped out of her pocket, exposing the small peppermint spray she held in her hand. She glared at him, the younger body she was trapped in watching him with eyes that had seen over a millennia.
Zoisite held his hands away from her, a small smile suddenly playing at the corner of his lips. His little siren. It was just like her to threaten him like that when she really felt the need.
Amusement mixed with extreme anger suddenly flushed through him. He always knew he lost his temper easily, he had always known that he was demanding, and sometimes cold to her, he wasn't perfect, but he wanted her to remember. By Selene he wanted her to remember. Needed her to remember. He couldn't bare all the memories by himself. He wanted to share them, because they were as much hers as they were his.
Because he was a coward, he couldnt handle it all by himself. He had to have someone else to share the resonsibilities of remembering. And he hated himself for it.
He remembered. He always used to keep on the sarcastic mask, because inside, he was scared and insecure. No one knew his secrets, the real him, no one but her, and he was afraid of losing her. He kept an unhealthy balance of roller-coaster emotions on their relationship.
Sometimes he was the sensitive, caring, gentleman, sometimes he was the sulky, sarcastic, womanizer of a jerk. That was what he had believed would keep her by his side. When she had enough, he would act so sweet she would think twice about leaving him.
She had given him more chances than he could count. The memory of the time when he had accidentally gotten so drunk that he had gotten into bed with a prostitute he had had found on the street, all because Arethusa hadn't believed it was right to have sex until they were married, lingered at the edge on his mind, waiting to find the right moment to strike.
He had received news of the death of his father, but he couldn't talk it out with Arethusa, that was the only thing he hadn't shared with her. His father was shameful, but at the same time, the news of his death was a big blow.
He had remembered her hurt at finding the dark lipstick marks, his drunken state, the scarlet satin bra that had somehow made its way into his pocket. It had been worse than the bet. He had betrayed her physically, internally, mentally. She had come so close to leaving him. Her eyes were unguarded. The evident pain pouring from them, letting her hurt to be seen to the world. But what she didn't know what that she had been the only one on his mind during the whole encounter' and add a period instead of a comma. She had always beenon his mind, he had called her name.
But it didn't matter because he had caused her pain.
He had tried making it better, but even then he had been only thinking about himself, taking advantage of her vulnerability. He had somehow persuaded her into bedding with him that very night. The next morning she had been deadly quiet, almost as if her spirit itself had been broken. Her eyes were completely naked to the pain within, and he had felt his own heart breaking at his own stupidity. He had wanted to apologize to her, right there and then, but his pride had gotten in the way. His pride always got in the way. When he'd gathered up enough courage to face her again, the guilt eating through him becoming too much to bear, it had been too late. That very same afternoon Beryl's forces invaded the Moon, and the Silver Millenium ended. And now they had been given a second chance, and history was repeating itself!
But how dare she not remember anything they shared? Pain pierced through his heart. How dare she?
Frustration filled him to the core, and it was as if a red curtain had been drawn over his eyes. The anger was aimed everywhere, at her, at fate, at Selene, but mostly it was at himself; he hated the fact that he had to use her as an excuse for his anger.
She took a deep breath.
"One."
"Two."
"Thr-"
Zoisite's hand clamped hard over her mouth, preventing her from screaming, or so much as a small whimper, rendering her heart-felt yell into a weak mewl.
Her eyes widened once more, and her lips froze in mid scream. Fear rushed back to her eyes. She wriggled against the body that pressed her roughly against the wall and struggled to bite his palm.
He wrestled the small spray out of her hand and tossed it far from her reach, his mouth bending close to her ear.
"You can't tell me what to do sweetheart… I know everything about you. Everything from where you live to what your favorite drink is…" He leaned a few inches away from her and a small smirk played at the corner of his lips. He watched as her eyes darted from his mouth back to his eyes and confusion swept through the royal blue orbs.
"White chocolate frappuccino was it?" He chuckled slightly as her mouth dropped open and a gasp escape her parted lips.
"Do me a favor." He pressed his mouth close to her ear once more. "And stay away from the boy, or else I'll make sure he doesn't live to see another day…" he whispered. "You belong to me, you always have, and always will."
He made sure his breath tickled at the soft skin of her cheeks and brushed his thumb against her trembling lips: "Remember, I know everything about you… Mercury."
He unclamped his hand and caressed her face gently, a small smile on his face. He walked away, imagining the shocked and bewildered expression. He dropped his composure and fell against the wall as soon as he reached the apartment building; his black coat was the only barrier between himself and the white wall. He hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights. It was dark. But he liked it this way, it suited his mood.
He slammed a fist into the wall beside him, his head falling back slightly.
Everything was messed up. She didn't know anything. If he returned, he'd cause her more pain, if he didn't, he'd cause himself more pain.
A long, wary sigh fell from his lips was let out of his frowning mouth, and his eyes closed.
His head hurt, his heat ached, and he wanted to make everything better again, but he knew the only way was if she participated too.
He wanted her to remember him… the him that woke her up in the middle of the night to take her for a stroll along the Sea of Serenity. The him that snatched the book she was currently reading out of her hands and threw it away, dragging her out of her chair and taking her on a surprise picnic. The him that sneaked through her balcony late at night just because he had found a pretty orchid and thought it would look nice in her hair.
Not the him that had hurt her enough till she had no tears left to cry.
But both of those emotions, both sides, the good and the bad, came with the memories.
He had wanted to start all over again, with a fresh beginning. She probably thought he was a bastard now. But he wasn't.
He had always, always known he loved her. Knew it from the first time she was introduced to him. He could remember exactly what she was wearing. A plain ice blue water silk dress, but she managed to make it look like the most beautiful thing in the universe. On her, the dress looked as it it was glowing, tiny little starts caught in silk that winked at him whenever she moved like it was glowing. He could remember the way she had looked at him. With absolutely no interest. That started his determination. No women ever acknowledged him without looking twice. But she did.
Damnit! Why couldn't she see that? That he would always, always-
He pounded frustratingly at the innocent wall. It was unfair. Why did he have to always act like a jerk? Why?
He sighed and buried his face in his hands shaking it furiously as if trying to get rid of everything that just happened fifteen minutes ago. He wasn't giving up. He wasn't giving up on him and her. They belonged together… for eternity.
The simple thought calmed his anger slightly. She wouldn't so much as look at another guy as long as he was here. They had promised each other that.
He closed his eyes and tried to grasp the sliver of memory he had so treasured.
The moment that had made him feel she was eternally his.
That day had been heavy with rain, coincidentally, and it had matched his mood. Just a few hours ago she had pulled away from him, calling him a womanizer, and telling him she had not wanted to ever see him again. He hadn't been used to the pain that had taken over his heart, and he remembered briefly wondering why everyone else didn't have problems like him.
It seemed like it was only him.
He had hastily grabbed the jacket of his uniform and headed out, not bothering to explain his need of wanting to get out the stuffy room to any of the dignitaries present, his pain was going to haunt him, and he was willing to do anything to escape it.
He had walked along the dark gardens at a slow pace, shivering slightly as the cold rain continued to fall on him, like tiny pinpricks punishing him for what he'd done.
He remembered walking along the path, into a garden. The same garden where Arethusa and himself had sometimes gone to in order to find solace and peace, both things seldom found amidst the noisy, crowded Royal Palace. He remembered how she how she would read something, her petite mouth twisted in concentration and the tip of her teeth biting gently at her coral-pink lips. He, on the other hand, only watched her, his own scroll forgotten in his lap. So he would always remember.
He had shoved his hands deep in his soggy pockets, wincing as his cold fingers met colder dampness.
He didn't know how long he wandered through the Moon gardens, his mind elsewhere and letting his feet take him anywhere and nowhere at the same time. After a while, he just stopped, and it was then that the soft sound of whispering filtered through the rhythm of the falling rain.
He remembered looking up, and his breath catching in his throat as he saw Arethusa kneeling in front of the great statue of Aphrodite, her eyes closed and her lips parting in short words. Her dark indigo hair was darker than its original color due to the rain soaking it, and had fallen in front of her eyes, the water dripping down on them plastering her dress to her every curve.
He remembered feeling heat slowly rising from his stomach and the blood rush. The thought of how long it had been since he last had a bed partner passed through his head briefly. He knew it was since he met her, back on earth he had dozens of mistresses, but since he had met the blue-eyed nymph, everything became unimportant.
Then and only then, did he realize how much he really wanted her.
But she hadn't seemed to realize he was standing there, staring at her through the silvery fog and gray rain.
And he hadn't wanted to disturb her, nor stop a vision of loveliness. Her praying stopped a few minutes later, and she had stood up gracefully, her long lashes gently fluttering open as she did so. When she had spotted him, surprise followed quickly by embarrassment had flushed through her face.
Before he could say anything, she had fled, her long dress providing difficulty in escaping. He could hear her curse softly and pull at the dress, ripping the thin fabric.
But his longer legs had caught up to her easily, and he could remember the widening of her eyes as his body crushed her against the statue of Athena, his fingers finding themselves entwined in hers tightly, their hands lying by the side of her face. So she was trapped and forced to look at him.
He remember panting, in between breaths telling her how sorry he was, how he hadn't ever meant to do anything that would have cause her grief, and how he couldn't stand her not talking to him. She was his air, he had begged, his face only inches away from hers.
She turned away, her deep blue eyes not meeting his. He remembered feeling her hesitance, her emotional war.
After what seemed like forever of stilled silence, she had turned to face him, forgiveness at the tip of her tongue, but she didn't say anything, just watched him with her lovely eyes and stood on tip-toes to gently brush her cold lips across his.
There were no words to describe the joy and happiness that had consumed him at that point, and even now, he could still feel bits of it streaming through him, even after a millennia.
He could remember the look of astonishment on her face as he slowly took out the ring from its box. He had spotted it in a store window on Earth, and had thought it perfect, except then he hadn't known whom he would give it to.
But now he knew.
At first she had first shook her head, refusing the gesture and stammering that she couldn't get engaged now.
He remember laughing and grasping both of her tiny wrists in one hand and leaning close to her face, watching her eyes watch his.
He had told her it was a promise ring, because one day, he was going to come from Earth and whisk her away, just like the fairy tale fantasy she had once shyly admitted to him.
She then laughed, tears streaming down her face. And she hugged him, crying and laughing out her joy.
Then he remembered kissing her, his first truly innocent kiss. He remembered the amazement that the thought of what would happen next wasn't rushing through his head.
Zoisite closed his eyes and tried to image her frozen lips on his once more; kissing her was like stealing a forbidden fruit, always seeking for the permission.
And sometimes he didn't ask for permission at all.
He sighed and buried his face in his hands. He was too exhausted, he didn't want to deal with it anymore. He didn't want to remember being a monster and scaring her away.
Slowly, he removed himself from the wall. He needed sleep, and he needed to plan.
He'd do whatever it took to win her heart back, and by Selene that's exactly what he was going to do.
Morning approached faster than he had expected. But it was probably due to his drifting in and out of sleep during the night.
No matter what he did, he couldn't get the indigo-haired girl out of his mind. He spent the night mentally battling with two parts sides of his brain. The part that demanded sleep and the other part seducing him with thoughts living out every fantasy he'd ever had with her.
And even now, that part of the brain was going strong.
He sighed and placed the cup of steaming coffee in between his hands, his eyes staring to nowhere, off into space. Thinking.
It wasn't as if he hadn't been thinking enough, it was all he's been doing.
Zoisite glanced out the window, briefly aware that the sky was still dark. It was 4 in the morning, that was still considered morning wasn't it?
He took a sip of the coffee and cursed when the burning liquid torched his tongue. He could be every bit the calm person Arethusa was, and that's the impression people got at first glance. But anyone who knew him better knew otherwise: his temper was a force to be reckoned with.
He closed his eyes and pushed the mug away, suddenly feeling disgusted with the bitter liquid that at times were his only refuge from falling asleep and dreaming of…
Her.
It always went down to her, didn't it? Her. Her. Her. Everything he ever did was based on her. How she would feel. How she would react. How she would think of him.
Silently, he counted to ten and let out a long breath. He was just frustrated. He knew that. Frustrated and scared that he would not make it back into her heart.
But if he remembered, so would she…right? That gave him a little ray of hope, and suddenly, everything was better again. He just needed to talk to her…ask her to understand, no, ask for her forgiveness...Or maybe he just needed to change first and then try again.
After all, tomorrow's always a better day.
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Author's Note:
I realize I may be late on this, but, Sailor Moon, is, of course, not mine.
And I think I've deprived my beta reader of regonization. But to Lilian, this fic is for her, I had lost the inspiration to write when I posted this, but it is her who helped me and worked so hard to make it work. Thank you. And to everyone else, Lils is one hell of a writer, go read her stuff, you wont ever regret it.
And to everyone: thank you for all your reviews! It made my day, and many has asked if i will be continuing this. To be honest, that is not my intention, but who knows? If my irresponsible muse decides to come back, I just might.
And he was in hiding again.
But it was the only way he could watch her. He wasn't stalking, he was…observing. He couldn't go near her. She would be frightened. This was the only way.
He watched as the two of them walked down the street together. She smiled at him, and the shy, dark haired boy decided to play brave and nervously took her hand. Anger broiled in his veins. No one touched her hand. No one. No one but himself. The hand was made for him. No one had the right to hold her hand like that, and yet… the boy was holding it.
He scowled, half expecting her to shrug away. She wasn't like that: she didn't play with affections like that.
She had to know he was alive. She had to. She had been waiting for so long, and he'd told her he'd come back. And he was a man that kept his promises, no matter how appalling the odds were.
The boy leaned in slightly, hesitating to place a gentle kiss on her lips, but she turned away, only to have him brush his lips against her cheek. Relief flooded through him, but was quickly replaced by a veil of red anger that passed through his senses.
That boy, yes, boy for he was no older than seventeen, was trespassing on what was not his. She didn't need a boy like him. She needed a man. Someone to hold her during her nightmares, someone to comfort her during the sleepless nights after a battle, someone to watch her smile, her true, happy smile, the smile that no one but him knew she possessed, and only him knew how to bring out. She needed someone that knew exactly what to say to make that lovely blush spread across her cheeks.
She needed him.
She had to know it. She had to feel the pain of separation. He wanted her to miss him, feel empty without him by her side, wanted her to need him too.
Because he sure as hell need her.
It was painful to admit. His nymph had always prided herself as being an indepent woman, and now here he was, needing her touch, her taste, almost as much as he needed air. It spoke of weakness that he needed her so, but the fact was, he did. She was his air, his water, his everything... she was his. And she would be eternally his, because they had both sworn it so, back in an ancient kingdom that no longer existed, in the shores of an ocean that had long since evaporated. Not forever, because forever didn't last. What they had thought was forever had been destroyed, stolen from them in a moment of sick passion and then burned along the inhabitants of the peaceful Moon. It was gone.
Renewed anger boiled in him. His eyes narrowed and he clenched his fists tightly. The boy had no right to take what didn't belong to him. Her heart was not that child's. It belonged to no one but himself.
He wanted to threaten the intruder by pressing the blade of his crystals calmly against his throat, to make him swear he wouldn't ever go near her ever again. She would be furious. She would yell at him. Venom would burn in her eyes.
And maybe she'd hate him.
And he didn't want that. Anything but that.
As much as he wanted to walk up to them and yank her away from the boy's hold, scare that child and make sure he never ever laid eyes on his property again, he couldn't. He was scared. Scared that she would reject him. Scared of being hated by her. He had hurt her before. He had betrayed her before. He had broken promises before. And he knew what promises meant to her.
He had been a monster, and she had been scared.
Maybe that was the sadness she always held in her eyes. His betrayals. It was like she already knew.
It wasn't fair.
They had been so great; they hadn't asked anything more from life. Together they had taught each other so many things they never knew they could experience. Happiness, acceptance. He wasn't perfect, he'd made mistakes, but he wasn't a bad person. He didn't deserve it. They didn't deserve it.
He shook the memories away and concentrated on her again. He fought back another scowl and continued following the two, until it came to the intersection where they parted. It was a joy to see the boy loosen his hold on her small hand. Heaven to see her wave farewell at him and continue on without a backward glance.
Silently, he followed her, pondering at numerous thoughts that continue to haunt him, and the deep fear that was buried within his heart: did she remember?
Of course she couldn't forget. Everything they shared, every precious second had been stored in his memory, never to be washed away; even when under Beryl's control, he had nightmares, or perhaps dreams. Faint flashes of familiar, comforting blue eyes that gazed at him with complete trust. Memory was forever. It lasted forever. It had been simply stored in a small, dark corner of his mind. He just had to find it. Find the strength to find it. But when he did, it was already too late.
He growled. The red haired bitch had ruined everything for all of them. They had been her puppets, playing the roles she had chosen, all of them fighting for the main goal: to succeed.
Only he had been succeeding on the wrong side.
She turned them all against each other. They had no control whatsoever. Not after Beryl was done with them. She took great pleasure in brainwashing them, making sure nothing but empty shells were left where once the proud Shitennou had existed
He felt his hands clench into fists by his sides, felt his jaw set so tightly it was beginning to create a dull ache.
Beryl had been kind enough to tell him of exactly how he killed Mercury the day he had came back reporting that his plan had failed.
He had been confused, not understanding why Beryl was telling him something he did not remember. But when the black energy struck his chest and launched him backwards across the room, and when the solid stone wall came in contact with his back and he opened his mouth to scream, then something clicked into place.
One simple word unlocked everything to his past. Beryl's spell was broken as she spoke her name, a name that had been long forgotten in human history--- a name he had come to love and adore while he had been Zoisite, Warrior King of the West under the rule of Endymion, King of Earth
Arethusa… that had been her name, was her name- Princess of Mercury, Senshi of Ice. None of that mattered to him, except that she had been his.
It told him that was why a graceful goddess often haunted his dreams, and it told him why he sometimes doubted Beryl's actions.
His chest tightened. Beryl had been sadistic enough to tell him everything, down to the very last detail. It was as if he was reliving it again. He could picture his love's face, her pure, blue eyes widening as she realized the man she loved, the man she had thought dead was not the one standing before her. However, by that time, he had already held her tightly against him, the long, sharp crystal blade pressed harshly against her soft throat. It had been quite the source of amusement to him the fact that it was the same crystal from which he had often carved little figurines for her.
Only this time it had been her biggest surprise.
He could feel her heart racing, not by infatuation, but by fear. He could feel the sick pleasure he had felt when the crystal slowly cut into the porcelain skin, staining the pale color with thin trickles of crimson.
And she, his love, being the little stubborn nymph he had always secretly admired, struggled. But the crystal sunk in deeper with each twist and turn, and she had whimpered, beginning to loose precious energy.
She had realized she was going to die, had probably acknowledged it when she saw the evil sneer on his face, saw the blank, empty way his eyes burned hatred at her.
But then she had suddenly turned, and released the last ounce of energy she had willed herself to make into his body, into his heart. The place he said she would always claim. She had taken him by complete surprise. He could remember his slight admiration, mixed in with all the hate.
She had cried when he had clutched at his chest, the fresh blood seeping out from his gray uniform onto his snow-white gloves. The fresh drops bleeding onto the cold ground, and she had apologized, over and over again.
His eyes had cleared, and he had found himself once again looking at her. He was looking at her. Not the monster Beryl had created. He had seen her blood, called her name, asked her to please stop crying, he had told her he'd kill whatever bastard dared to make her cry.
He didn't know it was himself.
His world and consciousness were slowly slipping away. The last whisper that slid through his lips was that he'd come back to her, for her to wait for him, because by Selene he'd come back.
He had choked, and his eyes had died.
Zoisite couldn't stop the images from coming back. He had nightmares. He'd wake drenched in sweat, fingers clawed, sheets twisted. He could see the scene over and over again, because memories didn't die. Sometimes he wished they did.
And right now, he ached. She was standing so close, yet so far away; all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms. His fingers itched to run through her silky indigo locks. His body starved for the feel of hers up against his. His lips craved her taste.
Just looking at her was not enough. Not anymore.
He let out a small sigh into the cold Tokyo air and jammed his hands deep into his pockets. He couldn't follow her around like this forever. She'd realize it at some point he was following her, she wasn't stupid, she was far from it, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to keep his want, no, his need for her under control any longer.
He'd been dreaming about her for a millennia, he had planned so carefully their first, or was it second? meeting, he had even wished on Nephrite's goddamn stars for her. And now she was standing right there, and he was at a complete loss as to how to approach her
Silently, he crept several strides closer towards her, ducking quickly behind a tree when she dropped her book. She cautiously bent down and picked the heavy thing up, her graceful body straightening as she brushed a lock of cobalt hair behind her ear.
He grinned wryly. Her hair has always been the one thing that made her stand out from the other Inner Senshi at first glance. She was impossible not to notice, and she used to hate the attention. A stranger would always catch a glimpse of her hair and stop to admire her elegance, and from her elegance they would gawk at how beautiful she really could be. It used to drive him mad seeing other planet's lords and princes watching her with ideas on their minds, he could imagine what they were thinking. Hell, he himself was probably thinking about the same thing at the same time.
But her polite and quiet self would always turn them off. It was like a signal, her impersonal 'thank you's', telling them that she was not interested.
He remembered her trying the same trick on him. He hadn't been fooled so easily like the others. He saw right through her. She wasn't what she wanted everyone to think.
But perhaps it was just his determination that got in the way. He was young, and if he wanted something, he was going to have it.
He remembered her being furious once, when she discovered he had placed a bet with Jadeite. The bet was that he'd get her to fall head-over-heels in love with him, like the dozens of other women in his lifetime. It may have seemed cliched, but that's exactly what he did. He could remember the hurt and pain evident in her once trusting eyes, and how they realized the owner's mistake and suddenly there was an invisible shield protecting her emotions.
She had then ignored him for a whole month. He had tried telling himself she was just like the others, the women before her, but deep down, he knew better. It felt like a small pinprick was stabbed into his heart every time she refused to look at him during meals, every time she decided she 'coincidentally' had something she had to attend to when he appeared.
He had been foolish, but he'd retrieve the sun itself if he had to, to win her heart back.
A chilling through suddenly sprung forth. She had had many suitors before and after he came along. Would that mean they'd be reborn as well? He could remember with crystal clear accuracy how jealousy had almost driven him mad at times, watching her smile and greet every philanderer lord as if they were the most important guests in the Universe. That was his little nymph; she respected protocol to the T, and if it meant suffering through entire hours of leers and attempted gropes, then she'd do so. One of them had stood out amongst the mass of perverted royals, perhaps because he wasn't really perverted nor a member of any royal family. He had been just a scribe, but watching him with Arethusa Zoisite had known he was different. He had later learned the quiet secretary was also a Seer. But that didn't make him a threat. The fact that Arethusa appeared to somehow return his affections was.
A deep worry suddenly seeped into his heart. If he was reborn then so would the scribe. What if he got to her first?
Angrily, he kicked a rock out of his way and almost cursed when she turned around swiftly, her deep blue eyes narrowed in slight suspicion, her hand gripping at the edge of her shirt pocket, where he knew her transformation pen was hidden.
He watched her from behind the corner, and waited until she turned back around, her speed increasing with each step.
Of course it wouldn't matter. She had confessed to him later, after he caught her wrist and forced her to talk to him, that she never cared about the scribe. She had thought she would be able to forget about him if he had someone else. She had pointed out that the seer was sweet and nice, not the egotistic bastard he himself was. Then she had pulled away and ran off. That was the exact way she had put it, and the names had stung. But it was probably nothing compared to the blow she had received when the truth about the bet had come out.
Zoisite closed his eyes for a second and then reopened them. All this thinking, all this remembering, his head was beginning to hurt. He was begging his mind to stop. He was getting upset with all these memories… everything that he had done wrong.
If he had the chance, he would start all over again, never to make the same mistakes.
He saw the familiar arcade slowly approaching. He knew her house was a block down the arcade's side alley. He knew that she always went in the arcade just for a few minutes to say hi to her friends and grab a snack. He knew which table they sat at. He knew what her favorite drink was. White chocolate frappuccino with extra whipped crème.
He wasn't a stalker. Stalker was too harsh of a word.
His hawk eyes watched as she went into the arcade through the glass doors. Her face lit up into a joyous smile as a dark haired friend waved her over. She took off her white scarf and placed it on the table, along with her heavy books.
She was always so pretty in white. So pure. Like the water itself.
He waited for her to finish her drink, finish chatting and listening to gossip from her friends.
He knew before she did when she'd come out. Something changed in the air, in his heart, that told him she would be the next to exit the place. He hoped he wouldn't scare her. He really wanted to talk to her today.
Silently, he prayed to the goddess Gaia for strength. He couldn't take rejection. Not from her.
He leaned against the dewy wall of the alley, keeping one eye on the door to the arcade. He was a wreck. Nervousness made his palms sweat and he could swear his heart was about to explode. He couldn't chase it away. His head bumped against the brick wall and he closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath.
In five minutes, she would be walking out of that door, unsuspecting, going home and opening her books. Today she'd be on page 19 of her Calculus book.
He ran a hand across his face. His fingers were cold, his palms clammy.
He heard the door swing open, the cheerful bells breaking the chilly silence. Secretly, he prayed that it wasn't her. He wasn't prepared yet. He didn't know what to say.
He took a peek around the wall that safely hid him.
It was her.
Her creamy white scarf wrapped snuggly around her neck, her cheeks flushed prettily from the cold air after the heated arcade.
She looked so damn good he just wanted to kiss her senseless. Even with all the layers of clothing covering her petite body, he could remember her sweet curves and supple hips. Her body called to him like a siren's song--- it had once been his, and right now, in his mind, it was calling for him again.
He was going insane.
Damn her and what she was doing to him. He had always thought it was the other way around.
She was walking by now. She was so close. He could smell her shampoo; it was like lily petals in water. Some things never changed, he mused, even if she was reborn on a different planet, in a different time period.
Time seemed to slow down until it became almost still. The frill of her skirt brushed against his legs as she walked by, and suddenly it was too much. He was reaching out to her, capturing her slim wrist between his hands, pulling her against him with force that he hadn't meant to use.
He didn't see the expression on her face, but heard her surprised gasp. That was enough to make him crush her against the wall, his mouth hungrily slanting over hers. He had the element of surprise, and he used it to his advantage. There was nothing gentle about the way he kissed her, only want, only need. He had been waiting for so long; he had been trapped only in his memories for what seemed like eternity. He had dreamed and fantasized for decades, and it was only about her. All about her.
The all too familiar taste was driving him up the wall; a sensation of icy hot, cool one second and hot the next, and yet it was different. He wasn't so sure if he liked the change. Briefly he wondered why her arms weren't around his neck, pulling them closer together.
And it didn't take any longer to realize that she wasn't responding to his kiss.
He hesitated and drew back, every cell in his body screaming in protest as he loosened his grip on her just a touch .
Guilt ran through him as her weak whimper reached his ears. She was afraid?
"Don't r-rape me…" Her large blue eyes pleaded at him, blinking rapidly to keep back the tears threatening to pour out. She clutched her figureless coat around her tightly, and she was pushing herself against the wall, as if wanting to disappear. She reminded him of a rabbit being chased by packs of dangerous dogs.
His heart sunk. That was exactly what he was. Dangerous. Did she not remember? The world shivered around him as nausea grabbed hold of him, and he felt suddenly lightheaded, almost as if he was being pulled from two sides at the same time.
He choked, he was still the same, nothing had changed. He had only thought about his own need.
He stumbled backwards a few inches, his eyes staring at her in shock and guilt.
He was selfish.
By Selene she had thought he was going to rape her!
He didn't know what was worse, her not recognizing him, or her thinking he could take advantage of her.
Then suddenly, it seemed as if their relationship had always been rocky.
Had he always been like this? Expecting to get everything he wanted. If he wanted Arethusa, he'd get her, if he wanted to kiss her, he'd kiss her, if he wanted her in his bed that night, he'd have her in his bed.
He shut his eyes tightly to keep from going down memory lane, and swallowed.
"Selene…I'm sorry Are..."
He wasn't always the demanding bastard. He had his sweet and sensitive times, but right now none of that registered through his senses.
Her eyes widened, confusion seeping into them like a maelstrom. 'Are' had been a childhood nickname of hers, he knew, one only her father had used. Arethusa was known in the 10th century as a nymph, connected to springs of small fountains. The magical maiden had fled the advances of one God River, Alpheus, and had been turned into the spring in Greece that now bore her name. All of this Zoisite knew, and even more.
Her eyes flickered to the small green zoisite stud in his ear for a millisecond, they remained blank. He felt a pang in his heart. She had always told him how much she loved the earring, how it matched so perfectly with his eyes.
"H-How do you know that...?"
Her hand found its way into her shirt pocket and she pressed herself closer to the dirty wall. Her wide doe eyes enticing him and rejecting him at the same time
Without realizing it, he took a step closer and reached out, but quickly drew back when she winced and ducked slightly, afraid of his touch.
"You remember don't you?" He asked hoarsely, his mind barely functioning as she shook her head.
He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. He could barely register that he was clutching onto her shoulders, like a desperate man does his last hope.
By then her eyes had already widened to the size of saucers.
"G-get away from me…" She shrugged out of his grip forcefully, her blue eyes suddenly bright with anger, as if someone had lit a burning match in the deep blue color. "I'm going to scream if you don't get away from me right now." Her hand slipped out of her pocket, exposing the small peppermint spray she held in her hand. She glared at him, the younger body she was trapped in watching him with eyes that had seen over a millennia.
Zoisite held his hands away from her, a small smile suddenly playing at the corner of his lips. His little siren. It was just like her to threaten him like that when she really felt the need.
Amusement mixed with extreme anger suddenly flushed through him. He always knew he lost his temper easily, he had always known that he was demanding, and sometimes cold to her, he wasn't perfect, but he wanted her to remember. By Selene he wanted her to remember. Needed her to remember. He couldn't bare all the memories by himself. He wanted to share them, because they were as much hers as they were his.
Because he was a coward, he couldnt handle it all by himself. He had to have someone else to share the resonsibilities of remembering. And he hated himself for it.
He remembered. He always used to keep on the sarcastic mask, because inside, he was scared and insecure. No one knew his secrets, the real him, no one but her, and he was afraid of losing her. He kept an unhealthy balance of roller-coaster emotions on their relationship.
Sometimes he was the sensitive, caring, gentleman, sometimes he was the sulky, sarcastic, womanizer of a jerk. That was what he had believed would keep her by his side. When she had enough, he would act so sweet she would think twice about leaving him.
She had given him more chances than he could count. The memory of the time when he had accidentally gotten so drunk that he had gotten into bed with a prostitute he had had found on the street, all because Arethusa hadn't believed it was right to have sex until they were married, lingered at the edge on his mind, waiting to find the right moment to strike.
He had received news of the death of his father, but he couldn't talk it out with Arethusa, that was the only thing he hadn't shared with her. His father was shameful, but at the same time, the news of his death was a big blow.
He had remembered her hurt at finding the dark lipstick marks, his drunken state, the scarlet satin bra that had somehow made its way into his pocket. It had been worse than the bet. He had betrayed her physically, internally, mentally. She had come so close to leaving him. Her eyes were unguarded. The evident pain pouring from them, letting her hurt to be seen to the world. But what she didn't know what that she had been the only one on his mind during the whole encounter' and add a period instead of a comma. She had always beenon his mind, he had called her name.
But it didn't matter because he had caused her pain.
He had tried making it better, but even then he had been only thinking about himself, taking advantage of her vulnerability. He had somehow persuaded her into bedding with him that very night. The next morning she had been deadly quiet, almost as if her spirit itself had been broken. Her eyes were completely naked to the pain within, and he had felt his own heart breaking at his own stupidity. He had wanted to apologize to her, right there and then, but his pride had gotten in the way. His pride always got in the way. When he'd gathered up enough courage to face her again, the guilt eating through him becoming too much to bear, it had been too late. That very same afternoon Beryl's forces invaded the Moon, and the Silver Millenium ended. And now they had been given a second chance, and history was repeating itself!
But how dare she not remember anything they shared? Pain pierced through his heart. How dare she?
Frustration filled him to the core, and it was as if a red curtain had been drawn over his eyes. The anger was aimed everywhere, at her, at fate, at Selene, but mostly it was at himself; he hated the fact that he had to use her as an excuse for his anger.
She took a deep breath.
"One."
"Two."
"Thr-"
Zoisite's hand clamped hard over her mouth, preventing her from screaming, or so much as a small whimper, rendering her heart-felt yell into a weak mewl.
Her eyes widened once more, and her lips froze in mid scream. Fear rushed back to her eyes. She wriggled against the body that pressed her roughly against the wall and struggled to bite his palm.
He wrestled the small spray out of her hand and tossed it far from her reach, his mouth bending close to her ear.
"You can't tell me what to do sweetheart… I know everything about you. Everything from where you live to what your favorite drink is…" He leaned a few inches away from her and a small smirk played at the corner of his lips. He watched as her eyes darted from his mouth back to his eyes and confusion swept through the royal blue orbs.
"White chocolate frappuccino was it?" He chuckled slightly as her mouth dropped open and a gasp escape her parted lips.
"Do me a favor." He pressed his mouth close to her ear once more. "And stay away from the boy, or else I'll make sure he doesn't live to see another day…" he whispered. "You belong to me, you always have, and always will."
He made sure his breath tickled at the soft skin of her cheeks and brushed his thumb against her trembling lips: "Remember, I know everything about you… Mercury."
He unclamped his hand and caressed her face gently, a small smile on his face. He walked away, imagining the shocked and bewildered expression. He dropped his composure and fell against the wall as soon as he reached the apartment building; his black coat was the only barrier between himself and the white wall. He hadn't even bothered to turn on the lights. It was dark. But he liked it this way, it suited his mood.
He slammed a fist into the wall beside him, his head falling back slightly.
Everything was messed up. She didn't know anything. If he returned, he'd cause her more pain, if he didn't, he'd cause himself more pain.
A long, wary sigh fell from his lips was let out of his frowning mouth, and his eyes closed.
His head hurt, his heat ached, and he wanted to make everything better again, but he knew the only way was if she participated too.
He wanted her to remember him… the him that woke her up in the middle of the night to take her for a stroll along the Sea of Serenity. The him that snatched the book she was currently reading out of her hands and threw it away, dragging her out of her chair and taking her on a surprise picnic. The him that sneaked through her balcony late at night just because he had found a pretty orchid and thought it would look nice in her hair.
Not the him that had hurt her enough till she had no tears left to cry.
But both of those emotions, both sides, the good and the bad, came with the memories.
He had wanted to start all over again, with a fresh beginning. She probably thought he was a bastard now. But he wasn't.
He had always, always known he loved her. Knew it from the first time she was introduced to him. He could remember exactly what she was wearing. A plain ice blue water silk dress, but she managed to make it look like the most beautiful thing in the universe. On her, the dress looked as it it was glowing, tiny little starts caught in silk that winked at him whenever she moved like it was glowing. He could remember the way she had looked at him. With absolutely no interest. That started his determination. No women ever acknowledged him without looking twice. But she did.
Damnit! Why couldn't she see that? That he would always, always-
He pounded frustratingly at the innocent wall. It was unfair. Why did he have to always act like a jerk? Why?
He sighed and buried his face in his hands shaking it furiously as if trying to get rid of everything that just happened fifteen minutes ago. He wasn't giving up. He wasn't giving up on him and her. They belonged together… for eternity.
The simple thought calmed his anger slightly. She wouldn't so much as look at another guy as long as he was here. They had promised each other that.
He closed his eyes and tried to grasp the sliver of memory he had so treasured.
The moment that had made him feel she was eternally his.
That day had been heavy with rain, coincidentally, and it had matched his mood. Just a few hours ago she had pulled away from him, calling him a womanizer, and telling him she had not wanted to ever see him again. He hadn't been used to the pain that had taken over his heart, and he remembered briefly wondering why everyone else didn't have problems like him.
It seemed like it was only him.
He had hastily grabbed the jacket of his uniform and headed out, not bothering to explain his need of wanting to get out the stuffy room to any of the dignitaries present, his pain was going to haunt him, and he was willing to do anything to escape it.
He had walked along the dark gardens at a slow pace, shivering slightly as the cold rain continued to fall on him, like tiny pinpricks punishing him for what he'd done.
He remembered walking along the path, into a garden. The same garden where Arethusa and himself had sometimes gone to in order to find solace and peace, both things seldom found amidst the noisy, crowded Royal Palace. He remembered how she how she would read something, her petite mouth twisted in concentration and the tip of her teeth biting gently at her coral-pink lips. He, on the other hand, only watched her, his own scroll forgotten in his lap. So he would always remember.
He had shoved his hands deep in his soggy pockets, wincing as his cold fingers met colder dampness.
He didn't know how long he wandered through the Moon gardens, his mind elsewhere and letting his feet take him anywhere and nowhere at the same time. After a while, he just stopped, and it was then that the soft sound of whispering filtered through the rhythm of the falling rain.
He remembered looking up, and his breath catching in his throat as he saw Arethusa kneeling in front of the great statue of Aphrodite, her eyes closed and her lips parting in short words. Her dark indigo hair was darker than its original color due to the rain soaking it, and had fallen in front of her eyes, the water dripping down on them plastering her dress to her every curve.
He remembered feeling heat slowly rising from his stomach and the blood rush. The thought of how long it had been since he last had a bed partner passed through his head briefly. He knew it was since he met her, back on earth he had dozens of mistresses, but since he had met the blue-eyed nymph, everything became unimportant.
Then and only then, did he realize how much he really wanted her.
But she hadn't seemed to realize he was standing there, staring at her through the silvery fog and gray rain.
And he hadn't wanted to disturb her, nor stop a vision of loveliness. Her praying stopped a few minutes later, and she had stood up gracefully, her long lashes gently fluttering open as she did so. When she had spotted him, surprise followed quickly by embarrassment had flushed through her face.
Before he could say anything, she had fled, her long dress providing difficulty in escaping. He could hear her curse softly and pull at the dress, ripping the thin fabric.
But his longer legs had caught up to her easily, and he could remember the widening of her eyes as his body crushed her against the statue of Athena, his fingers finding themselves entwined in hers tightly, their hands lying by the side of her face. So she was trapped and forced to look at him.
He remember panting, in between breaths telling her how sorry he was, how he hadn't ever meant to do anything that would have cause her grief, and how he couldn't stand her not talking to him. She was his air, he had begged, his face only inches away from hers.
She turned away, her deep blue eyes not meeting his. He remembered feeling her hesitance, her emotional war.
After what seemed like forever of stilled silence, she had turned to face him, forgiveness at the tip of her tongue, but she didn't say anything, just watched him with her lovely eyes and stood on tip-toes to gently brush her cold lips across his.
There were no words to describe the joy and happiness that had consumed him at that point, and even now, he could still feel bits of it streaming through him, even after a millennia.
He could remember the look of astonishment on her face as he slowly took out the ring from its box. He had spotted it in a store window on Earth, and had thought it perfect, except then he hadn't known whom he would give it to.
But now he knew.
At first she had first shook her head, refusing the gesture and stammering that she couldn't get engaged now.
He remember laughing and grasping both of her tiny wrists in one hand and leaning close to her face, watching her eyes watch his.
He had told her it was a promise ring, because one day, he was going to come from Earth and whisk her away, just like the fairy tale fantasy she had once shyly admitted to him.
She then laughed, tears streaming down her face. And she hugged him, crying and laughing out her joy.
Then he remembered kissing her, his first truly innocent kiss. He remembered the amazement that the thought of what would happen next wasn't rushing through his head.
Zoisite closed his eyes and tried to image her frozen lips on his once more; kissing her was like stealing a forbidden fruit, always seeking for the permission.
And sometimes he didn't ask for permission at all.
He sighed and buried his face in his hands. He was too exhausted, he didn't want to deal with it anymore. He didn't want to remember being a monster and scaring her away.
Slowly, he removed himself from the wall. He needed sleep, and he needed to plan.
He'd do whatever it took to win her heart back, and by Selene that's exactly what he was going to do.
Morning approached faster than he had expected. But it was probably due to his drifting in and out of sleep during the night.
No matter what he did, he couldn't get the indigo-haired girl out of his mind. He spent the night mentally battling with two parts sides of his brain. The part that demanded sleep and the other part seducing him with thoughts living out every fantasy he'd ever had with her.
And even now, that part of the brain was going strong.
He sighed and placed the cup of steaming coffee in between his hands, his eyes staring to nowhere, off into space. Thinking.
It wasn't as if he hadn't been thinking enough, it was all he's been doing.
Zoisite glanced out the window, briefly aware that the sky was still dark. It was 4 in the morning, that was still considered morning wasn't it?
He took a sip of the coffee and cursed when the burning liquid torched his tongue. He could be every bit the calm person Arethusa was, and that's the impression people got at first glance. But anyone who knew him better knew otherwise: his temper was a force to be reckoned with.
He closed his eyes and pushed the mug away, suddenly feeling disgusted with the bitter liquid that at times were his only refuge from falling asleep and dreaming of…
Her.
It always went down to her, didn't it? Her. Her. Her. Everything he ever did was based on her. How she would feel. How she would react. How she would think of him.
Silently, he counted to ten and let out a long breath. He was just frustrated. He knew that. Frustrated and scared that he would not make it back into her heart.
But if he remembered, so would she…right? That gave him a little ray of hope, and suddenly, everything was better again. He just needed to talk to her…ask her to understand, no, ask for her forgiveness...Or maybe he just needed to change first and then try again.
After all, tomorrow's always a better day.
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Author's Note:
I realize I may be late on this, but, Sailor Moon, is, of course, not mine.
And I think I've deprived my beta reader of regonization. But to Lilian, this fic is for her, I had lost the inspiration to write when I posted this, but it is her who helped me and worked so hard to make it work. Thank you. And to everyone else, Lils is one hell of a writer, go read her stuff, you wont ever regret it.
And to everyone: thank you for all your reviews! It made my day, and many has asked if i will be continuing this. To be honest, that is not my intention, but who knows? If my irresponsible muse decides to come back, I just might.