Almost Had You

Summary:

Passion was something they both possessed in abundance, along with intelligence, grace, charm, loyalty, rebellion, dastardly good looks and the ability to piss each other off to the point of oblivion. So why the hell, were they so stupid to keep coming back for more? Simple, it's because the laws of attraction defy the rules of habit.

"Can you hear it?"

"Hear what?"

"My heartbeat...it gets like this when you're around. So fast and hard, I can hardly breathe, I get so dizzy."

TA-DA

"She's different. She annoys the hell out of me, but she just had to be the wittiest and most gorgeous person I've ever met…Why does she have to be so complicated?"

-Chiba Mamoru

Chapter 1
them big baby blues

I can hear the music thrumming, causing the ground to quake under the soles of my immaculately shining dress shoes, where beams of red, blue, green and purple play across the lighter walls or material of clothes in the room.

A soft waltz is playing in the background allowing couples of old and young to sway together lovingly under a prism of strobe lights in the shadowed room, a designated dance floor located in the heart of the area.

I watch the proceedings indifferently and my coal black locks fall into my eyes casually while shadows crawl across my profile momentarily. I gaze lazily at the people enjoying the reception under lidded eyes with a hand in my pocket. Hands 

are linked and fingers are interlaced tenderly while looks of affection are exchanged along with a side dish of laughter from jokes at the expense of a man's female counterpart whose heels click against the hardwood surface of the floor.

I don't know how they can survive these long hours in those blasted high heels…

Whatever though, their problem—not mine.

And I look around some more, hoping to find that familiar face…

Photographers can be seen lazing around, cameras strung across their necks or in their hands. They take pictures of each couple to document the memories into a big white album as their pay asks them to, just as the DJ relaxes with the lulling beat of the song.

I sigh in exasperation when I can't find the face I'm looking for.

Instead, I see clear glasses filled with high-end alcohol tipping against each other in a toast to clink an elegant ding in the room.

Tables fill the plush carpeted floor, draped with exquisite ivory tablecloths.

Vases of striking crimson roses are pressed so closely together they caress each other's petals in a soft touch, flowing from radiant jaded stems trimmed of prickling thorns in the center of each table.

There are empty plates on some of them, signaling that the guest is finished with his or her meal of cheap catering food lacking any proper taste or enough weight to fill one's stomach long enough.

At least that's what I think.

But that's fine because alcohol is served in return, to sate the still growling hunger inside for the time being.

Red wine.

A deep rich maroon…

Sick.

White wine.

Crystal clear in the light…

…Nah.

Champagne.

Too classy, even for my tastes…

Chardonnay.

Hmm, chardonnay…?

Okay, wait.

My irritation with this event was beginning to shine through and I could just imagine my ocean eyes blazing on the outside.

Chardonnay.

Seriously…

What the hell was that?!

What the hell did a man have to do for a simple beer around here, people…?

Oh.

I rake my fingers through my hair and scowl at my situation sulkily.

Right.

I forgot.

I'm at a goddamn wedding.

Yep, that's right—a wedding.

…And it made me sick.

I couldn't believe I was actually here.

I was such a loser, just standing against one of the walls in a corner where those pesky photographers left me alone.

And for some reason, even though I completely detested wine, I accepted a glass from one of the older men who had insisted I try some because it was 'good' for me.

I guess I did it because I didn't feel like arguing with them or giving them a reason to tell me one of their 'back in their day' stories.

Because that would've just sucked.

And my glass was still full of wine because I had left it untouched and I dismissed any caterers that came my way asking if I wanted a refill.

Of course I need a refill…

It's fucking filled to the brim!

Why would I need a refill??

Honestly, are these people blind?

I roll my eyes in memory of how some of the female ones had tried to flirt, while the others were just plain bitches…

I was on my last string of patience here, okay?

And seriously…?

If I could, I would damn everything about this stupid experience if it hadn't been for something holding me back…

But I could still complain, couldn't I?

Like for instance…damn this suit.

And damn this tie for being so damn constricting.

I can't breathe!

All this noise is giving me a headache, and my eyes are starting to hurt from the flashing lights—and why are these people so happy?

Why?!

They shouldn't be happy!!

Well okay, maybe they should be because we're at a wedding but…

I grit my teeth before relaxing in resignation.

Random thought here, but damn…I wish I wore sneakers…

And then my thoughts echoed in my mind tauntingly and I scrunched my face up in disgust.

I sounded like such a diva.

Which is wrong…

In so many ways.

Because I'm a guy.

And guys aren't supposed to care this much—but I do.

I seriously do.

And the reason why?

It's simple.

It's because I don't want to be here right now.

Aha, call me stupid but that was just so obvious.

Really though, all this true love shit was making me nauseous, with the whole 'I do' and forever crap with the ring to signify it.

People get divorced all the time—so why should you even bother?

Really.

True love is eight letters long, I know that, but then again—so is bullshit.

So what idiot buys that load of bull?

Oh, I don't know—wow, aren't I just a load of peaches?

I let out a sarcastic sigh and my eyes shift over to my left—apparently they do…

There they are, gliding across the floor in perfect harmony, completely in tune with the other as they dip, spin and box step their way into causing wonder to spark in their audience's eyes.

And who wouldn't stare, when the bride is looking stunningly delicious in a flowing white strapless wedding dress, contrasting sophisticatedly with the groom's black slacks and polished shoes, his jacket abandoned but his silk black tie still present with his white dress shirt's sleeves folded to his elbows.

Don't forget about the bride's unique lemon locks pulled up in a chic up-do, ringlets of tresses framing her healthy porcelain skin. A string of pearls dangle from her swanlike neck with matching earrings and her hands have been freed from their gloves to fit perfectly in her husband's.

And the groom is dashing with his deep strawberry blonde locks and even darker hazel eyes, a shade of amber peeking underneath them every now and then to peer into his newlywed wife's cornflower blue orbs.

His slightly callused hand grips hers gently and an arm wraps around her waist protectively with his bronzed skin.

And maybe I made that sound more exaggerated than it might actually be…but that's how it seemed in my eyes as I watched them move with the music along with everybody else…

They do.

They believe in that true love, 'I do', and forever with the ring to signify it, bullshit that I have so decidedly shunned.

I should know, because they're two of my best friends.

And get this—here's the clincher—I'm the best man.

Now—don't get me wrong, I think that love is a bunch of bull but I'm not saying I don't think it exists, at least I don't think it doesn't exist right now—did my contradicting myself just then confuse you...because it sort of confused me...but whatever. Anyways, as I was saying...

When it comes to my two best friends getting hitched… then of course love existed.

Because it really does—Minako and Motoki are living proof… they're the bride and groom by the way.

But I should probably rephrase what I said earlier to this…

Love only existed for some people.

I roll my eyes…

What lucky bastards, they were…

But I digress.

You're probably wondering why I'm such a cold jerk—complete with the icicle up his ass—that he doesn't even want to be at his own best friends' wedding.

Well, I'll tell you.

Alright, so here's how it goes.

Two years ago, after I graduated high school I decided to go to University.

Simple enough, right?

It happens all the time when teens graduate from that Hell on Earth called 'high school'.

I was still eighteen and Motoki was nineteen, about two months older than me.

Anyways, when I decided to go to Tokyo U in the city, my parents decided to just do a big move and leave their comfortable life in the mansion we lived in, in a quieter city.

Motoki and his family came with us too, since his parents were best friends with mine and it had been that way ever since they were younger… it's kind of cliché actually, but I find that they're really lucky to have been friends for so long…

And that's why when we all moved, Motoki's family shared the same house as my own.

Something about them all needing to be there to make sure I stayed out of trouble.

They're smart like that.

Backing up on track though, I went to University with my best friend Motoki right behind me the whole way as we moved to the city—from our 'pampered' lifestyle, I guess you could say—and that's where after being on the waiting list for two months, we were finally able to settle in and start our classes along with everyone else.

We opted to live in a dorm like everybody else instead of sharing the house with our family, even though it was relatively more than big enough to accommodate Motoki, our sisters, Rei and Unazuki, our parents and me.

Because privacy was much more desired for us—which was why we moved into the dorm without complaint.

When we got there, I was still finishing up unpacking when Motoki decided that he was going to go around sightseeing for a while to get to know the city we just moved to.

And that's how Motoki met Minako.

Now the moment those two hit it off, I knew they were going to make it.

Because when Motoki had come back to the dorm that day he met Minako in the café—talking too fast and stumbling over his words while making large hand gestures with a stupid smile on his face—I knew he was already a goner.

Hook, line and sinker.

He just didn't know it yet.

And for the next little while, all I heard about was Minako this or Minako that.

It was cute, I guess, but I was a guy so I didn't think cute—I thought annoying.

He was so whipped and strung on this 'Minako' that I had half a mind to just walk off while he was still talking and catch a random broad somewhere along the way for a quick date that would be ensured by my smooth talking…

He asked me two months later to come meet with him, saying something about introducing me to this wonderful girl he couldn't get enough of—his golden girl.

I was skeptical and didn't give a shit at the time—well okay, so maybe I did give a shit because it had to do with my best friend and while I could be a jerk, Motoki and I had been friends since we were kids—so obligation and loyalty won out over easy sex with my recent conquest…

I met her at the receptionist office when we were both signing and registering into the University… but that's not important.

So anyway, here's the truth—which you can probably already guess…

I was—am? I don't know anymore, but I like to think I'm past that phase already, you'll find out why in a bit—a player.

I didn't give a damn about love.

To me, it was worthless. It was just something to tie you down, to keep you from living your life to the fullest because in reality—life truly was what you made of it…and man, was that a huge motto for me.

Yet here was my best friend, doing the exact opposite of what I tried to stay away from.

He went and fell in love, stuck with one girl, became a one-woman man…

Okay fine, well he...atually he was always a one-woman man.

He didn't believe in frivolous things such as flings, and I respected that. I left him alone to entertain his thoughts of happily ever after, even though I myself didn't believe in it at all.

Whatever though, I was just cynical like that… I can't even remember my reason for being that way though.

Because I was rich, good-looking, got good grades, good sports… and the ladies loved me.

I think somewhere deep down though I always knew that there was something lacking. Maybe that was why I was so shallow back then. So I didn't have to think too hard about that 'something more' crap, that I didn't even care about my best friend's sudden discovery of happiness.

I had moments where I was a selfish jackass…a lot of them.

But I did know how to be a good friend, and just in case you're wondering—no, I have never gotten with any of Motoki's girls.

I was a player, not a home wrecker people.

Anyways, back to before.

When he said please and asked me to come again, it was serious.

Dear God, it was serious.

He never used that one on me before!

It was either threat or guilt.

This girl was a miracle…!

So I stood up my date with that leggy redhead guiltlessly and without protest—I realized that she was a bit too clingy for my taste after I asked her out.

And I have to say, I'm glad I did because when I first met Minako I thought she was pretty cute. She had the whole innocent girl-next-door type of thing going on for her and I could tell why Motoki liked her so much.

He was never one for the wild ones that I found highly attractive, so to speak.

But in layman's terms, Motoki was the boyish and likable all around good guy while Minako was the hyper yet delicate beauty.

They were perfect for each other and—hold on, I'm getting there—seeing them together got me thinking, just a little bit, enough for it to feel like I was forgetting something but couldn't remember what.

The things I thought went something along the lines of this…

I knew I was a jerk because I had experienced being showered with affection by the opposite sex for as long as I could remember. It got to the point where I forgot the morality my mother instilled in me from earlier years until it was honestly just a good rut to me.

Or a nice past time…whatever works.

This brings me back to the 'something more' bit I expressed earlier.

All the girls I'd ever been with had been superficial and their beauty was only skin-deep because they looked to me for my looks, and apparently my wealth since I came from a well-off family.

And some guys I had been friends with were only around me to get the ladies…which were my leftovers but whatever floats their boats, right?

I guess the reason why I put up with…them…was because they gave me a reason to do something with myself.

The guys would challenge and bet me I couldn't get a girl, I would go after said girl, we'd hook up and then it'd be done.

I accepted this shallow cycle that was my life because I got what I wanted from the girls I was with, they got what they wanted from me—priceless jewelry that didn't mean a thing when I gave it to them, along with mutual physical satisfaction—and then we were fulfilled and would go our separate ways.

End of story, no strings attached, no questions asked…

Well, for most of them that is, because sometimes I'd go for the ones who would actually treasure our 'relationship'… those were the ones that actually thought what we had meant something.

Which it didn't.

And I was the heartless bastard that broke their hearts.

But here's where we get to the good part.

The point is, unlike all the other girls—it was Minako's best friend that struck something in me.

Sometimes I'm still stunned into silence, to this day; how those two ever became and stayed friends for so long… they were complete opposites.

Maybe I shouldn't be so shocked though because so are Motoki and I.

But that's beside the point.

I hadn't been expecting her.

Minako's best friend was…she was a piece of work is what I'll say, a real spitfire at heart with a wicked temper, sharp tongue and keen intuition—she knew I was no good from the very start, point blank.

While Minako was demure, sweet and sometimes shy, her best friend was anything but. In fact, her best friend was bold in her thoughts and her actions—she wasn't afraid to say what was on her mind and well, she could be sweet when she wanted to be but she definitely wasn't the girl-next-door…

I found it amazing that I could never place her in the 'bitch' category; because she never crossed that boundary in our earlier stages …she was just very blunt in her statements.

She probably had to be though since she was the grounded realist that balanced out Minako's hopeless romantic self.

And that made me curious about her, the way she reacted so entirely different to me and everything else unlike her fellow females in general.

And there was something about the way she made me act around her that succeeded in intriguing me even more.

At first it was annoying.

I didn't need some pesky girl being the constant focus of my mind.

But the more I tried not to think about it, the more I ended up doing the exact opposite.

It got to the point where I finally just started indulging my curiosity of her. I found myself engaging with her in anything to grasp her attention for a while longer than the rest who had failed in doing so just so I could try to figure her out.

Even if it was just a piece of her.

So I did the only thing I figured I could do, but she didn't go for it too well.

If I flirted with her, she would end it.

If I tried to compliment her, she would insult me while still maintaining a polite and subtle air...most of the time...

And that took skill…

If I smiled at her, she would scowl or frown at me—and holy frick, she still managed to look good when she was pissed off…

I guess you could say it became a sort of game of cat and mouse.

I lost all interest in the other girls on campus trying to obtain my attention until the only girl I ever paid attention to was when I unknowingly paid attention to her.

At the time, I had been impressed with the way she escaped my plans for seduction or anything of the sort all the time so effortlessly. Later on one day, she ended up confronting me instead of evading me like many had done only to succumb later.

She told me straight out what she thought of me that day—that I was some charismatic player that she couldn't stand. I was someone that pissed her off with the way I thought she would fall all over herself just because of me.

Basically she said I was self-centered and that she was surprised I hadn't exploded from my ego being too big for me yet.

She even went so far as to demand that I tell her why I paid her so much attention.

I remember that she had sputtered in front of me for the first time in indignation and hurled another—quite effective—insult my way when she noticed my eyes were shimmering with mirth after I got over the initial shock at her frankness. It only served to amuse me even more, and I honestly don't remember when was the last time I laughed so hard when she stared at me, deadpanned.

Me, being reckless—told her why.

I told her she was someone so elusively spirited that I couldn't help but be curious about her. She was someone that hadn't reacted to me the way everyone else had—to which she had scoffed in annoyance.

And I continued, saying that I found her interesting and that I wanted to know what made her so different.

When I finished my explanation she had raised her brow at me and I could vaguely register the minor disdain and reluctance in her eyes before she murmured to me that maybe I should try talking to her instead of flirting or being suggestive.

See?!

That was why I was so curious about her.

I was expecting another put-down from her as a way to try and deter me, but instead she gave me a suggestion—even if she might've not meant it—on what I could do to gain her trust, although I wasn't sure that was what I was trying to earn in the long run…but I found out what it was I wanted from her later on.

I ended up taking her suggestion.

You could say our relationship was abusive but that was only in the start because I'd been going about it the wrong way.

When I followed her hint, it was only to satisfy my curiosity and get what I wanted to know about her, but soon our 'relationship' developed into something else.

Something I hadn't expected like many things when it came to her.

At first there were arguments, some petty and some reasonable about certain things and there were definitely some disagreements that led to fights. These fights were where we would ignore each other for a little while to cool off our equally matched tempers before we would catch up again and be back to what it was like before.

And somewhere later on, I stopped talking to her just for the sake of my curiosity and personal satisfaction. Soon, I talked to her because I wanted to, because I liked talking to her.

And that's when we became friends.

But that's not the end of it—because that's where I was stupid enough to think that I thought we were just friends.

Because without realizing it, I started thinking of her as more than that.

It started small.

I found myself laughing and smiling around her more often, but I'd brushed it off as just enjoying her company since I was like that around Motoki and Minako, too.

And I knew I only had strictly platonic feelings for Minako as another sister, so I figured it was the same with her.

I didn't notice that I laughed louder or stuff like that around her more than any guy, girl or person…because not even Minako got me to do that even though they were both supposed to be like sisters to me.

Because then I started to think about her a little more than necessary. I figured it was just because something in class reminded me of her though.

That was normal, right?

People get reminded of their friends all the time.

So I shrugged it off.

But then things started getting weirder.

I zoned out whenever she talked to me, and I found myself staring at her a little longer than what could be deemed normal before she would have to wave her hand in front of my face and poke me since she knew it annoyed me.

Usually it only took her finger coming in closer contact before I would snap out of it and move away, but then it got to the point where she needed to poke my chest with her nail at least three times before I came to.

I noticed that I started stuttering around her, like every sentence was just another tongue twister for me that I couldn't get right. And more than once, she looked at me strangely and asked me if I had a fever.

I lost my smooth talking skills around her and looked like a complete dork every time I came up with non-too-believable excuses.

It didn't help when she would sometimes feel my forehead with her hand to check my temperature…I just started feeling zings of electricity from her and she would frown in worry when she felt me heat up underneath her fingertips.

My denial started turning into panic because I knew then, that I had never felt this way about anyone.

…Okay, God, that sounded corny but moving on!

She got me dizzy to the point where I couldn't walk straight unless she helped me—which made matters worse because I would become plagued by the urge to kiss her.

The first time it happened one day, we were sitting under a tree and reviewing some notes for a similar class we both took. We took a break for a little while and just talked. I made her laugh at something I said and my focus went all messed up.

Go figure.

It was just...strange.

All of a sudden, I just blanked out and I didn't even know what I was doing. I just got all caught up in the color of her eyes and the way she pulled her hair back from the breeze so she could see and then...and then I...

I caught myself leaning closer to her and glancing at her lips, and all I could think about was just...kissing her. I could feel blood pumping loudly in my ears and I was suddenly all in her face, before I suddenly pulled back in horror at what I'd almost done. When she looked at me strangely I abruptly told her that I had a paper to finish for some ass of a professor before I jogged the rest of the way to my dorm I shared with Motoki.

That had been the final straw.

I couldn't deny it any longer.

I remember just being sprawled across my bed and staring at the ceiling, wondering why I liked her.

It didn't take me long to find the reason.

Besides the fact that she was gorgeous and easy on the eyes, she had an awesome personality. She wasn't ditzy either. She was smart and wise about things that surprised me she was really only eighteen and my age...at least five months younger than me.

She was talented. She rocked the electric guitar even better than I did. She was quick to learn how to multitask on my snare and kick-drum when I first let her try it out too. She used to hum a song to herself while we studied and then the more we studied together, the more she hummed until finally, I heard her sing for the first time.

And man, did I wish I could paint and draw like her.

It was no wonder she was majoring in the arts with some side courses.

I smiled when the subject she needed my help in was Physics and Pre-Calc—and yes, I can focus on something other than girls when I want to if that's what you were wondering.

But what really, really got me about her though, was that she went straight inside where no one else had ever delved or dared to look before and she did the impossible.

She understood me.

She finished my sentences, read my mind, knew when something was wrong or when I was sick and needed help with something.

She didn't judge me either.

It amazed me that I didn't notice where her dislike she had made clear for me since the beginning had disappeared to, because somewhere down the line… she accepted me.

My faults, my mistakes, my bad habits… everything.

She changed my mind.

She made me believe that forever meant forever.

She made me believe that happily ever after did exist.

She made me believe that I was honestly, truly, irreversibly in love with her.

I was so in love with her.

It was practically written all over my face—I swear to God, it was almost embarrassing.

I held out though.

And damn it, don't call me stupid!

Because I cared about her too much to ruin our friendship…

Because shit, I cared a lot.

That was saying a lot, too.

The fact that I was even afraid to make a move was saying that I really, really cared about this girl.

Because no girl had ever made me think her name and the word beautiful in the same sentence.

And what I mean is that she was a rare one.

A diamond in the rough, if you please.

You don't find a girl like her very often.

Because her beauty didn't stop at her skin, it went in all the way to her mind and heart.

Her soul must be a shoo-in for heaven…

How the hell was I supposed to know all that though, when she insulted me so openly and unashamedly that first time I went for my best friend to meet the girl of his dreams…and saw her?

With her long, loose silver-golden hair, her generous curves of lightly tanned skin, perfectly kissable lips, melodic voice and laugh, brilliantly dazzling smiled that she graced me with—if I could get myself to think properly long enough to say something…she was just…

Beautiful.

Like her eyes.

She was just wonderfully, exotically and perfectly Usagi.

…I found that face I was looking for.

Standing on the other side, wrapped in a deep maroon silk gown that hugs her curves, she fixes the spaghetti strap on her shoulder and a modest amount of cleavage is revealed through the sweetheart cut-out of her dress' top.

The shapes of her dancer legs are accentuated with mystery beneath the silken skirt of her dress and there's a mesh at her back where it looks like a train that trails after her with each step she takes.

Glossy silver locks, half of it is pulled from her face while the rest cascades down her back in waves. A simple silver chain rests in front of her chest enticingly and a silver charm bracelet from Minako jingles on her wrist.

Eyes are framed with bangs parted in the middle; two stray tresses escape the binds of her tie and hint at the sides of her cheeks.

She wears a minimum amount of make-up and I see that healthy tan and that lightning shock of blue that's raged my mind ever since I hit eighteen.

The maid of honor.

You see; the reason why I'm such a cold hard-ass now is because of her.

The reason why I'm so ticked off about being at this wedding right now was because over the months prior to the wedding—our best friends had called us up and requested for us to help plan the wedding.

And I'm bitter because I know they were up to matchmaking—and I'm bitterer because it almost worked once the heartache subsided into those familiar feelings from before.

But right now…

I sigh regretfully.

I am so screwed.

How the hell was I supposed to know that I had a soft spot for big complicated baby blues before she came and walked into my life again without knocking…?!

Did I just sound as stalker as I think I did?

...Don't answer that.

TA-DA

Tell me what you guys think please! Anything I can do to make it better? Let me know and review! Hope you enjoy this. This is my first attempt at SM fic so if you could be gentle, that'd be nice!

ser3ne eternity.

aka;; azuresass22.