A Desire for Her
© Winter Moonlight Sonata
Picture this: two teenagers sitting together at a table for two in a restaurant called Le Chanceux. One was a raven-haired, crimson-eyed young man, blessed with unnaturally drop-dead-gorgeous looks at the age of seventeen years old. His eyes were itinerant and were never fixed at just a single point in the luxurious site, looking as if bored with the current proceedings. In front of him, jabbering endlessly and threatening to speak for the rest of infinity, was a beautiful girl, who he stares at frequently in great annoyance (yet somehow, his eyes have a tinge of admiration…it was unusual for someone to talk so much in his opinion). When she catches his eyes, his orbs dart away and look around again, trying to find something or someone worthy of his attention, although finding no one but her.
The other one was a lovely young girl of sixteen years. She had hazel orbs spiked with dark brown and gold, long wavy mocha-chocolate-blond hair that ran down her spine with tiny bangs over her forehead, and beautiful plump lips, tainted a deep red to compliment her snow-white skin. Her eyes were wide and innocent and irritated, feeling frustrated at the fact that the boy in front of her who was supposed to be her date didn't seem to mind much about her efforts to start a civilized conversation.
So now you can imagine two gorgeous high school students of completely different – no, scratch that, opposite is a better word – personalities brought together and seated together at a single table. What comes next? Well that's easy – chaos.
"And then this man comes around and says – are you even listening to me?" She looked vicious, aiming the question at the young man seated before her, glaring daggers. Her mouth was already dry, until she noticed the boy give a silent yawn.
The boy looked slightly taken aback at being addressed this harshly. He lazily replied a short "Maybe" and grunted; apparently this reply wasn't the one the girl was expecting. In fact, it made her more flustered and livid.
"Fine," she said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning heavily on her chair. "If, indeed, you have been listening to me, then could you perhaps be as kind as to remind me of what I have been talking about for the past fifteen minutes?"
Let's see you talk, mister.
He rolled his eyes while inwardly appreciating her guts to stand up to him just like that. He was notorious for being cold-blooded and uncaring and was feared by the whole school in general, except for a few chosen friends. No one, and I repeat, NO ONE can talk to him and raise their voice just like that; she was the first. And she was apparently catching his attention with every second.
He indulged himself at the sight of the girl and drowned himself in her beauty. True, he was annoyed for the past half-hour that they have been together, but that doesn't prevent him from admiring the contour of her body, the perfectly-flawless skin, the long, shiny, soft brunette locks, the ample eyes, the full lips, and practically everything about her.
"Too many to mention," he drawled after staring at her for a few seconds, answering her previous question.
He watched her as her cheeks grew redder and redder by the second, prepping himself for a coming explosion which, surprisingly, didn't come. Instead, she took him by surprise by leaning forward over the table, setting their faces merely an inch apart. This sudden lunge gave him an unprecedented view of something that made him smirk greatly.
"You are a cold monster," she began venomously in a low whisper, still in that position and still giving him that unwanted yet well-appreciated view. "You do not know how to appreciate a woman and you are a vile creature who knows practically nothing about manners."
She sat down none too gracefully, slamming her butt on the chair (poor chair for that matter), staring blankly in front of her. "You know, I'm not even hungry anymore," she remarked, looking away, arms crossed. He was still staring at her and her childish attitude, smirking. "Polka dots," he said in an amused whisper. Her head snapped back at him, eyebrows furrowed, evidently shocked and huffing and puffing like a flustered bear. "What did you say?" she blurted out.
"Polka dots..."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Polka dots; it's the design of the bra you're wearing tonight, right?"
This time he really hit a nerve. Her eyes widened like saucers, sparkling with anger and her ears steaming in deep frustration a suppressed rage as she looked down at her plunging dress and reality hit her hard. She shifted her gaze from her dress to his face slowly, literally shaking with anger, as she strived to speak. Her voice seemed to have abandoned her.
"Boo," he said, amusement clearly etched in his perfect features.
Her lips parted and as if spoken through a microphone, she spoke – no, screamed – at him with a deadly I-don't-give-a-damn aura; standing up, her five-feet-six-inch frame towering over his seated figure, she drew a long breath and began her speech.
"You bloody pervert! You spoke not even once during the whole forty-five minutes that we've been together and barely listened to a single stinking word as I ranted time away for fifteen damn minutes and then seconds later you smirk at me and taunt me about my BRA? Is that what you've been doing the whole hour? LOOKING at me?"
He considered for a moment. "Yes, and I must say, you look beautiful," he said, grinning from ear to ear. She scoffed. "Wow, very original, Natsume Hyuuga."
"Fine then: you look gorgeously elegant and scrumptiously ravishing. Is that enough?"
She grew even more irate at this short remark and the instinct to kill was definitely taking over her now. "Well let me tell you, Natsume Hyuuga that -"
She was stopped in midsentence. Why, you ask? Well, let's just say it's his hormones and her non-stop babble that made this next scene possible.
Her full, plump lips were pressed tightly against his, and since she had been speaking, her mouth was slightly open, granting him full entry. Her senses caught up with reality and she realized that his tongue was now playing and rolling softly around against hers. She felt her stomach do simultaneous somersaults as her breathing grew heavier by the second. She closed her eyes and felt his long lashes brush lightly against her smooth cheeks as small bursts of air emanated from his nostrils. It would've been perfect until suddenly, her dead brain fired up and she had the sense to pull away from the moment.
He pulled away as well, opening his eyes as if waking from a dream and looked at the beautiful young woman he just kissed, who was currently gawking at him. He couldn't speak and just looked and looked at her.
After five solid minutes of awkward silence and strong staring, she finally took her clutch bag and walked out, blushing deep scarlet.
One small thought penetrated his mind as he watched her saunter away and exit through the double doors.
Mikan Sakura, you're a different girl…
Frankly that was where all this chaos and love began—from a desire for her.
Six Years Later
22-year-old Mikan Sakura was well content with her life, thank you very much. An accomplished writer at nineteen, she vowed to have her first book by the time she turns twenty six. That was her creed. As of the moment, she was typing so fast that her heart was swollen with happiness until a loud voice reached her from downstairs.
"Mikan! Hurry up and get dressed! We'll miss the concert!"
She stopped and banged her forehead lightly to her desk. "Damn it, I forgot about that stupid concert!"
She quickly stood up from her swivel chair and tore her eyes from the computer screen, where she was busy typing her first book.
"Mikan!"
A little too excited, while I'm not even in the slightest interested, she thought to herself.
"Coming, Anna! Wait, just for a few minutes, please?"
She hurried towards her closet, picked out a red turtleneck blouse and black skinny denim pants, pulled on a pair of glossy knee-high Prada boots (her pants tucked into them), grabbed a white hoodie and brushed her long, wavy hair, putting a clip to prevent her bangs from falling to her eyes. A final check in the mirror and she was good to go.
"Finally!" said a pink-haired girl exasperatedly, as elephantine steps issued from the stairways. "You look nice," she complimented, looking at Mikan through her sky-blue eyes.
"Thanks, you look nice as well," she remarked at Anna's get-up: white halter, baby pink hoodie vest, black skinny jeans, and gold high heels. "Where's the Beast?"
"She went there already. Of course, you know her. She wouldn't miss her boyfriend's concert for the world."
"Oh, sure," Mikan agreed. "So…let's go?" She said as they stepped out in the cool autumn breeze, a small smile crossing her face. It was the first time she'd ever gone out in quite a while.
Loud roars greeted Mikan and Anna as they entered the vicinity of the concert grounds. "Wow," Mikan said, covering her ears, "these people are raucous, aren't they?"
Anna giggled. "Well of course, Mikan, what else do you expect? It's the concert of the hottest band of the century!"
Mikan just couldn't believe Anna would go ballistic over these boys. "What's the name of the band again?" she asked, practically screaming to make herself loud enough for Anna to hear.
"Huh?" Anna said, looking incredulously at Mikan. "You don't know? Oh, well…why should I be surprised? It's Cire."
"What?"
"Cire. As in Crimson Fire molded into one word!"
So cliché, she thought to herself as she proceeded inside with Anna, silently and inwardly complaining with every breath she breathed and every step she took. In her head a vigorous speech is currently being delivered.
If I weren't here, then I would've been at home, working to my heart's content! I would've finished proofreading chapter three and would've gone straight to typing in chapter four! Stupid favors. What do they see in these ridiculous concerts anyway? Oh, so let's say the band has a cool name and– I am just assuming, I haven't seen them yet - they have really cute members, I mean, what's all the fuss about? And duh, they're here to listen to the music, they pay for the chance to hear them perform live, not to scream and go ballistic! Oh, please. People and their crazy antics, really.
It was a long walk, at least four hundred meters from the entrance doors, and the moment they stepped in, guards escorted them towards their seats ("Courtesy of Ruka," said Anna, winking at Mikan). From the first row, Mikan noticed the hundreds and thousand of glares being shot at her. She looked back at them with pity and disgust, frankly grossed out at how crazy these girls are for the band. Pathetic, she thought.
She barely knew where she was being taken, nor did she care. She caught sight of her best friend somewhere in front and was ecstatic. The guards were all around them, protecting them from livid green-eyed fan girls.
She sat down beside Hotaru after giving her a short kiss on the cheek, Anna taking a seat on the left side of Hotaru, who was holding her videocam aloft, ready to capture the boys' concert on tape. Mikan barely even registered the fact that she and Anna were seated at the very front row, mere feet from the stage. Nor did she notice that a million girls around her were green with much envy and red with rage, their deadly instincts taking over their feminine bodies — all because she sat down in the most coveted seat of the century.
It was remarkable how no man — except perhaps for the guards and the band themselves — was around the stadium. Almost all of the audience was women and girls, screaming their arses of before the concert even began. Mikan once again rolled her eyes at this abysmal sight and turned to look at her friends.
Hotaru was busy tinkering with her videocam again, probably figuring out some way to improve the thing so that her very own company can sell a better handy version of it; Anna was too busy being ecstatic and crazy that she had no idea what she was doing (and neither did anyone else); while she, Mikan, was staring off into space, her thoughts careening into the vast ocean of ideas for her fourth chapter.
Finally snapping out of her thoughts, she quickly took out a writing pad and a pencil. Putting pen to paper, she quickly wrote at the top a very neat CHAPTER FOUR: Fortunes and began to scribble the thoughts she had just had. Before she could even go another paragraph further, Hotaru snatched the pen away and Anna grabbed the paper.
"You are here to enjoy my boyfriend's band's concert," said Hotaru sternly, her face stoic as always, keeping a struggling Mikan at bay, careful not to hand over the pen. "You are here to get away from your tedious work; not to work again."
Mikan looked at Hotaru through pleading eyes. "Please, Hotaru, I need that! My deadline is drawing closer! It's in eleven months and I need –"
"Eleven months?" Hotaru said so surprisingly. "Eleven months is too short for you? Mikan, you're nearly killing yourself by working too much; I think your being a workaholic is much influenced by our days at school. Damn. I never should've called you an idiot."
Mikan smiled wearily the turned to Anna for the paper. "Anna-chan, please do hand over the pad. I need it, you do understand, don't you?"
Mikan was saved the effort of trying to snatch it from Anna as the stadium lights began to dim and sounds the sounds of heartbeats played overhead; people began screaming and the crowd was now reciting a single creed: Cire.
Mikan didn't care about the band, but she was curious. Curious because she wanted to see for herself the answer to her question: what made all these people go gaga over some sort of twenty-three-year-olds playing some instruments and singing?
The lights were now completely turned off, and the heartbeats were steadily growing louder and louder. The stadium, which held at least a hundred thousand people in it, was strangely silent. Then all of a sudden a gentle voice came speaking from nowhere.
"Before we begin, I would like to say something."
The crowd held its breath; contrary to what they should've been doing by now, which was screaming their arses off, they were stock-still and hushed. Mikan looked around, wondering what was wrong. Hotaru was as a statue as ever, although she saw the anxiety in her best friend's eyes. Anna, like the crowd, was quiet.
"She has been my girlfriend for five years now and has been with me ever since the start of my career—"
A loud gasp was heard from Mikan's left; it was Hotaru, holding her camera at an odd angle, eyes frozen into space. Suddenly, unconsciously, she put a hand to her chest and her eyes began to morph into tiny little dangerous slits. Mikan continued listening to the voice.
"—so now, for our opening song, I dedicate this new song to her. I love you, Hotaru Imai."
To say that Hotaru dropped dead would be an understatement; she was caught between fainting and dying and anger and an instinct to kill. But before she could do anything gruesome, however, the music began to play, and from underneath the stage, five boys came out. Since it was dark, it was hard to tell who was who, but at the merest sight of them, the crowd began to cheer loudly.
The lights suddenly flashed on and the spotlight focused on a single blonde-haired man with tantalizing azure orbs which were boring straight into a much widened amethyst orb. The brunette, however, lost interest and began to slowly jerk out her pen and paper from her two friends' hands while both were too still and absorbed.
She's cold and she's cruel but she knows what she's doing
Although very uncommon, Hotaru was swearing loudly while smiling ang crying all at the same time. The blue-eyed man still sang with his eyes lost in Hotaru's violet ones.
She pushed me in the pool at our last school reunion
she laughs at my dreams but I dream about her laughter
Strange as it seems she's the one I'm after
Taking the lead from the blonde, a raven-haired and crimson-eyed young jumped forward. Mikan, too busy scribbling in her pad paper, didn't notice his sudden appearance.
'Cause she's bittersweet
She knocks me off of my feet
And I can't help my self
I don't want anyone else
She's a mystery
She's too much for me
But I keep coming back for more
She's just the girl I'm looking for
Mikan was still hunched over, scribbling away. Hotaru was too flustered to notice and Anna was too engulfed in the yummy-ness of the boys to care about what Mikan was doing; she can handle herself, Anna said.
On stage, however, it was a different story. While busy playing their music, the raven-haired boy swore and since he was closer to Ruka, the blonde heard.
"That can't be her."
"Who?"
Then he suddenly jumps forward to continue singing.
She can't keep a secret for more than an hour
"That girl, hunched over beside your fiancée."
"Soon-to-be, don't be too excited Natsume."
She runs on one hundred proof attitude power
"It's Mikan."
Natsume froze; even Ruka was a little surprised at the brunette's appearance at their concert, although it probably had something to do with her best friend coercing her into coming ang tagging along.
And the more she ignores me the more I adore her
"Hey," Ruka said. "You okay?"
No reply.
What can I do, I'd do anything for her
"Natsume?"
He merely shrugged and sang the chorus.
'Cause she's bittersweet
She knocks me off of my feet
And I can't help my self
I don't want anyone else
She's a mystery
She's too much for me
But I keep coming back for more
She's just the girl I'm looking for
"Natsume? Man, come on, say something…" asked Ruka while Natsume sang the bridge.
And when she sees it's me
On her caller ID
She won't pick up the phone
She'd rather be alone
But I can't give up just yet
Cause every word she's ever said
Is still ringing in my head
Still ringing in my head
Natsume turned to look at his best friend; the crowd and their other band mates were oblivious to this little chat between them. Ruka sang the next two lines with his eyes focused only on Hotaru's watery ones.
She's cold and she's cruel but she knows what she's doing
Knows just what to say so my whole day is ruined
This time, Natsume let him sing the final choruses while he went down the stage towards where Hotaru was sitting. Upon passing by our lovely brunette, he caught a whiff of a very familiar perfume…the only perfume stuck to his head ever since a certain encounter with a beautiful young lady from five years ago.
"I didn't want to do this," he began, while the girls were eyeing him, "but I'm supposed to or else Ruka will kill me. So get up out of your stupid chair and come with me onstage. And you can't say no," he said to the amethyst-eyed woman, holding out his hand for Hotaru to take, sneaking glances at the girl beside Hotaru. She looked at his hand for quite a period. Ruka was already singing the second of two final choruses. She took his hand and he led her to the stage, with her whispering venomously in his ear, "If this is a practical joke, Hyuuga, I'll have your head in the morning."
"Oh, I'm scared, Imai. Definitely shaking with fear."
The final words of the song were sung alternately between Ruka and Natsume while Hotaru was beside Ruka onstage. People at the concert began to shut up and look curiously at this strange scene. Some girls gasped out loud when they found out what was about to happen. Mikan was still hunched over, not a care in the world, which was one of her specialties. Her unwavering focus was a rather helpful skill on her part in times like these.
She's just the girl I'm looking for.
Just the girl I'm looking for
I'm looking for
I'm looking for
I'm looking for
Just the girl I'm looking for
The final riff ended, and then the surprise of Hotaru's life finally came face-to-face with her. Ruka Nogi, in front of one-hundred-fifty-five thousand people, knelt in front of her, a ring in hand.
"Hotaru Imai. Let's see," Natsume said on the microphone, looking amusedly at his best friend and his best friend-in-law (is there even one like that?). "Ruka's blackmailer ever since first grade, his number one enemy, his cat-mouse chase – mind you, Ruka's the mouse and Imai's the cat – " The crowd laughed at this comment as Ruka shot daggers at Natsume and Hotaru actually let slip a tiny smile, "but most of all, Hotaru Imai. Ruka's beloved girlfriend. And what's more…"
Ruka took hold of the microphone. "—My soon-to-be fiancée."
The crowd gasped as mixed reactions filled the air; some were happy, some were mad, some disappointed (and shouting "I should be Ruka's fiancée, not her!" with matching thumps on that person's head), and some were…well, it's safe to say some were murderous. Hotaru was crying. Well, almost. It took a lot to make her cry.
"Hotaru Imai, will you marry me?"
Too bad Mikan was wearing those earmuffs; she couldn't hear a word.
Hotaru put a hand to her mouth, and nodded slowly, a yes. But Ruka wasn't satisfied with a mere nod, so he asked again.
"Hotaru Imai, will you marry me?"
This time, Hotaru answered a definitive "Yes, you bloody idiot, yes!"
Happy ending. For them, at least. But for one particular member of the band, it was something else that was causing a rather violent leap of faith and joy inside him. Natsume kept staring at Mikan during Ruka's proposal. She was still uncaring and still overindulged with her work. His breathing became a little shallower when he saw how beautiful she had become after four years.
She was oblivious, of course, to this attention she had been attracting. Mostly focusing all her attention towards her work, she barely heard a word of what was happening onstage.
Anna, who was more or less a little too overbearing, was shocked with Ruka's proposal and was very happy for Hotaru, but then, after the nostalgic moment, she noticed that certain crimson orbs were trailed on her brunette friend, who, she just noticed, was back to being hunched over, doing her work in the small light the spotlight offered. She looked at Natsume again and, convinced her eyes were not playing tricks on her, nudged Mikan gently on the sides.
Mikan, who was happily scribbling away and hearing nothing that can disturb her, was startled to feel Anna's gentle nudges. She took the earmuffs off and she looked at Anna with inquisitive eyes.
"What now, Anna?" she asked innocently, a little miffed at the interruption.
Anna rolled her eyes. "You just missed your best friend's marriage proposal."
Mikan's eyes widened at the news that Anna had brought her. She was shocked to find out the Hotaru was proposed to without her knowledge (and was sad that she didn't get to witness the magical moment). She clapped a hand to her forehead and scolded herself until Anna had said another thing that practically took the soul out of her.
"Have I told you Natsume Hyuuga is in Cire and he is, at present, staring at you rather severely?"
Truth be told Anna had half a mind saying this to the woman beside her, and the way Mikan had reacted had definitely proved to her that her decision was a big mistake.
She looked up at the stage only to meet flaming crimson orbs. A rainbow of emotions crossed her face, before it settled well on annoyance.
She glared at Anna, who was suddenly growing more and more interested with the nails of her left finger.
She took hold of Anna's wrist. "Why did you not tell me we were going to a concert involving Natsume Hyuuga?" she said angrily, still feeling those eyes. Anna looked wildly at her, her pale eyes reflecting sincere apologies. "You never asked!" she tried to reason out, which was perfectly true; Mikan had never asked about it, and since Anna was too eager to attend the concert, the thought flew completely out of her mind. Okay, fine, maybe she kind of whacked it out of her brain with a broom, just so she'd get to it…
Mikan Sakura just burned with annoyance all throughout the night, exchanging stares (and glares) with the man on top.
"Congratulations."
"I suppose you'll agree to be the best man?" Ruka asked as they settled down in the dressing room. The concert had finished five minutes ago. Natsume grunted and said, "It's not like I have a choice. Otherwise your monster of a girlfriend would tear me to pieces and your pet bear might just do the same."
Ruka chuckled but suddenly grew oddly still. He turned to look at Natsume and said, "You know, I've been wondering…you haven't answered my question yet, mister. Are you alright? With Mikan, I mean."
Natsume looked taken aback at the sudden question. He scowled at Ruka while drawling, "Why am I not surprised that you remember."
"Natsume, you haven't dated anyone since four years ago," said Ruka. "I could tell you still love her. Even after what happened."
"We would never have broken up. If only she never broke through us and interrupted," said Natsume lazily, looking away from Ruka who was unable to put any decent show of expression to his face.
The memories of them shone brightly through the murky swamps of his memory, and of course he knew it was Mikan. Of course. How could he not know?
Natsume knew it was her from the moment she lifted her head up when that pink-haired girl friend of hers talked to her. The same everything; same hazel-olive eyes, same perfect pouty lips, same long brunette hair, and he knew that if he kissed her, she would have the same cherry taste. Doubtless about the bra, though. He knew it was still polka dots.
"Natsume you can't possibly be thinking about winning her back?"
Natsume stood up, feeling ang knowing that they were alone in the dressing room. Koko, Yuu, and Kitsuneme were all outside having fun. He put his hand on the doorknob and opened the door, but not before he answered Ruka's question (which left the latter dumbfounded).
"Maybe."
And with a sudden resurgence the thought of his original desire for the brunette returned to him.
Edited.
~Ash.