I do not own Sailor Moon

Story by Tangofan

"Vendetta"

Rated R

"Why did you tell me? To relieve your guilty conscience? To make you feel better? Why?"

I stared out of the window, not seeing the beauty of Crystal Tokyo. My husband- King Endymion- has just told me that he had an affair. I don't cry, I don't shout at him. I cannot.

"Who was it?" "Rei"

I don't move. There's a scream building in my head- getting louder and louder. It drowns out his voice, his explanations, his vows of making it all better. I see his reflection in the window, see his lips moving, but I don't hear him. I'm lost.

Rei. He had sex with Rei. I torment myself with pictures of them together. Naked bodies, grinding together, him on top of her. My fists are clenched.

"Go. Leave me alone. For now. I have to think."

"Sere, I'm sorry. Please. Look at me. I don't know what came over me.."

"You think I do?"

"In the heat of the moment…"

"Moments you mean. God, I feel sick."

"I love you."

"Leave me."

He turns and exits the large office room. There are pictures of us. Happy times. Did I just imagine them? Was it all a sham? Why Rei?

I think it would have been easier if it had been some woman unknown. But it had been one of my best friends. Should I have noticed something? Was there a different behaviour around me? I cannot say. I imagine the pitying glances of the palace folk, my friends. My stomach turns. What to do? What to do?

If you ask me if I still love him- the answer would be YES. If you ask me if I could forgive him- perhaps. But I'll never forget. And I hate Rei.

The hate for her is so sudden, it makes the room spin. I have to hold onto my desk for support.

Rei has left the palace I'm told. It's better this way. I had been walking around in a red haze. I would have killed her if she had come near me. I would have. I imagine stabbing her, my hands around her throat and I feel better. I almost smile at that.

Endymion and I Iie next to each other, saying nothing, not touching. I can still remember his touch, his caress, his kisses. I miss him. I miss his body. I miss his kisses. I miss the sex. But I cannot make me look at him, nor touch him. I almost threw up when he turned to me once.

I know it would get better if we touched, if we kissed. We could make the misery go away with sex. Make the hurt lessen. I know I drive him further away with my coldness. I'll drive him to the next woman who will open her arms and welcome him warmly. I know it. I cannot help myself. The need to punish him is overpowering. I torment him, hurt him- but my hurt doesn't lessen.

I'm stuck in a vortex. I cannot move away from him, I cannot move towards my husband. The feeling of falling is constant. There are no arms to support me. No body to warm me.

His faithlessness has wound my self-esteem, my femininity. Am I not woman enough? Can't I give him satisfaction? Does he need another woman for that. Is it duty to him- sleeping with me? No joy?

I can't sleep anymore. The questions cloud my mind, keep me occupied. I wander around the palace, late at night. Everyone's asleep. It's just me- and the night watch. I keep away from them, they don't notice me.

I'm standing in the middle of the ball room. Crystal chandeliers hanging high above me, moonlight spilling through the huge windows into the dark room. No music. No happy couples dancing. I feel like crying.

There is a man standing by one of the windows. He is tall, slim and has short white hair. Middle aged. He notices me- but doesn't bow to me. I walk closer. I'm drawn to him. I feel his sadness. Has he lost someone? The need to comfort him is overpowering. I stand so close to him now, I can see the little wrinkles in the corner of his green eyes, His skin is tanned. He smells like grass after a heavy thunderstorm, the scent of woods drifts towards me. It's heady.

One of his hands reaches out to me. I watch the movement, but I don't move. His thumb caresses my cheek. I feel tears streaming down my face. I hear a sob- and it's my own. He draws me close. His embrace is warm, comforting. I feel the hurt and hate flow out of my body. Slowly.

I look up. His face is so close. There is a light in his eyes- a light that is reflected in my own. I want to kiss him, feel him- feel like a woman again. He knows. He knows what I need. It's what he needs too. I'm willing to give it all. Everything he asks. I'll give it to him. He makes me feel whole again.

We touch. Carefully at first. Is it all right? Yes. We get bolder. I touch his skin. When did I open his shirt. I stand naked before a naked man. When did we strip our clothes? I don't care. We kiss deep and hot. Passion sweeps away hurt and hate. Naked bodies touch, feel. We stare at each other- while he presses me against the wall. I stare into his eyes while I wind my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. We stare at each other while he drives into my body, while he move in me. I close my eyes when I come.

We still stand pressed to each other, his body joined with mine. I can't let go. He neither. I feel. I feel save. He holds me close. Ego sum.

I stand in my bedroom. Endymion is asleep. One of his hands lies on my pillow as if he was reaching out to me. The red haze is gone. The hate is gone. I still hurt. But there is a light inside my heart. I climb onto our bed, lie next to him and join our fingers. His hold tightens. I smile and my other hand moves slowly over my womb.

Please review. The opinion of others can be very constructive J

Sorry for misspellings.