SO WRONG

"You are so wrong for each other." That was what everyone said.

Too different was what society … … no, what it seemed the entire world believed. And for a while, she believed it as well. He belonged to the crème de la crème of society, whilst she was found at the bottom of the hierarchy. He was rich, intelligent and handsome; she only had her health, stubbornness and was passably cute. He was calm to the point of being apathetic at times, musically talented and could nurse a grudge for eons. She was energetic, clumsy and had a very hot but quick temper.

Even their rows seemed lopsided. She would yell and throw things (especially those that she didn't like), and he would simply lean against the wall with his mouth tightly shut, a cold fire burning in his eyes. However, she was always the first to initiate a reconciliation being very quick to forgive and forget, and he would always reciprocate and be strangely forgiving of what he would have deemed to be unforgivable transgressions from others. And their making up sessions were always sizzling.

"Why me?" She asked once as they were lying in bed after another making up session, her fingertips idly tracing circles on his chest. "Why, Rui?" She glanced up at him almost shyly through her lashes, half afraid of his answer. His hands with the long, artistic fingers that she loved came up to cup her face as his thumbs caressed her cheeks with light, tender strokes.

"Because." The finality of his tone encouraged no further discussion, and the subject was dropped when his lips subsequently covered hers in a hard, demanding kiss that drove all rational thoughts from her mind.

She had thought the idea of them ridiculous at the start. She had burst out laughing when her friends warned her that he seemed to be interested in her. She had asked them incredulously what they thought he could ever see in her. However, the idea soon lost its humour when she started to realise that his eyes were always on her during the rare occasions where they were thrown together. And then he finally made his move.

She resisted initially, fought him with all the strength in her. She rejected his advances constantly, returned all his gifts, telling him off to his face, refused his calls, and yet he persisted. Realising that he might just be caught up in the thrill of the chase, she changed her approach and made herself less of a target. She became friends with him, revealing all her character flaws, acted like her usual tomboy self and dressed sloppily. However, what she had not counted on was that not only did his interest not wane, she found herself falling for the person behind his stoic, cold mask.

In a last desperate attempt, she started flirting with his friends and pretended she was interested in someone else. However, she had unwittingly been overly encouraging in a ruse to throw him off at one of the parties, and one of his friends who was decidedly drunk refused to take no for an answer. Reality is never a fairytale. Her Prince Charming did not turn up in time to save her. She could still remember the devastation on his face when he found her a few hours later in a trembling heap on the floor of one of his many guestrooms, the culprit snoring unconscious a few feet away on the untidy bed. She was still in shock and her bruised body was only wrapped in a sheet that was stained with blood at strategic places. The rest of her memories of that time were blurred. He forgave her even though she never forgave herself, half killed his ex-friend (and got half killed in the process), and she finally caved.

"I don't know why you still want me," she had whispered to him months later as he held her hand comfortingly, careful to keep a wide berth between them to prevent any repeat of her hysterics when being too close to any man. "However, if you really believe that the prize is worth having in spite of everything, you already have my heart." Then the said heart flipped as he bent down and tenderly pressed a kiss to her hand.

It has taken almost eighteen months of therapy before she was almost back to her old self and he had celebrated it by flying her to New York for an Opera night. It was the most amazing night of her young life and for the first time in eons, she felt truly alive. He was his usual attentive and indulgent self, taking pleasure in her childlike wonder and obvious enjoyment of the proceedings. Wined and dined and still on an emotional high from the opera, she decided to follow through with the reckless plan that she had been concocting when they returned to his luxurious apartment.

The champaign glass that was held out to her had fallen from nerveless fingers, the spilt golden liquid spreading unnoticed across the expensive hand-woven oriental carpet, when she shyly appeared in front of him dressed in a skimpy black lingerie with her eyes downcast and blushing furiously. She stood there trembling slightly as the silence grew between them, before he finally cleared his throat and spoke in a hoarse voice that sounded nothing like his usual gentle baritone, "you don't have to do this. This has never been part of my plan … …"

She stepped forward and placed the tips of her fingers on his lips, effectively stopping the flow of his words. At this proximity, she realised that he was breathing rather rapidly but trying his best to hide his reaction to avoid scaring her. Somehow, this gave her the courage to look at him. His emotionless mask was firmly back in place, but his eyes were boring holes through her. Beneath, the burning desire that was admittedly rather intimidating, she saw hope and despair warring for dominance, and a love that was terrifying in its intensity. As she hesitated, she watched in dismay as the hope in his eyes slowly died and he lowered his head slightly, allowing his long fringe to shield his eyes as he took a step back, distancing himself from her. His voice was calm again, patient even, when he spoke, "it's getting late and you must be tired from the long day … …"

She did not allow him to finish his sentence. With a determination that she never knew she possessed, she flung herself blindly into his arms and her lips found his. His body went rigid at the contact. After a few moments, he gently disengaged himself from their embrace and drew back, raising her chin with a finger as he looked deeply into her shimmering eyes to seek for confirmation. He was rewarded with a tremulous smile as she gazed at him, her entire heart in her eyes. The world seemed to stop revolving as their eyes met. Then his eyes darkened with passion and she was crushed against him in one movement as he lowered his face to hers. His lips caressed hers tenderly at first, keeping the contact light and teasing. However, when she tilted her head up wanting more, his lips moulded to hers and the sparks between them ignited.

That night she became irrevocably his, mind, body and soul. There were some inevitable flashbacks. However, he was extremely patient with her, taking it slowly and stopping to hold or soothe her until the worst was over and she was able to continue. There was no awkwardness the next morning when she woke up in his arms and found him watching her with a tender, open expression that she had never seen on his face before. He was contented to cuddle with her until their hormones raged out of control and the last night was re-enacted.

Their biggest row took place when she rejected his wedding proposal. Still besieged by feelings of guilt and unworthiness, she (according to him many years later) tore out his heart and trampled it into pieces. That was the only time when he gave in first and went to look for her after they had both stubbornly remained apart for two months. She had already sunk into a deep depression and he was horrified when he saw how much weight she had lost. It took months and months of therapy and all his efforts to bring her back from the brink. However, he had learnt his lesson and did not dare to mention marriage again for years.

Then there was another period of upheaval when his ex-friend returned from abroad and started to make a play for her. Apparently he had been totally besotted by her and would have never taken advantage of her except for the influence of alcohol. Being the kind soul that she was, she eventually forgave him although Rui was extremely prickly about their friendship.

"Forgive and forget, Rui. It's all in the past. Tsukasa did not mean to do it." She mentioned to him more than once.

"But he still wants you. And you're mine," he would growl possessively in an extremely un-Rui like manner and she would feel her bones melting into a puddle.

"Silly man, to fight over something so worthless." Not bothering to rebut, he pulled her onto his lap and kissed her until she was dizzy from the lack of oxygen.

"Foolish woman, never let me hear you demean yourself in such a way again." He nuzzled her hair as he held her protectively in his arms … …

Then she began to hear buzzing sounds in her ears, to get dizzy spells and throw up. They initially thought she was pregnant and Rui was delighted. However, it soon became clear that something was wrong when she could not keep her balance and movement made her very ill. He brought her to a specialist and she was diagnosed with Meniere's disease. Although it was not life threatening, it was dehabilitating to a certain extent. In time they both learnt to cope with it as they did with everything that happened in their lives.

It took a few more years. However, they eventually got together when Tsukushi finally got the message that Rui had spent more than a decade trying to impart to her – that regardless of what everyone said, they were perfect together; that she was the only woman that he would ever love, and that she was the one who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Or at least what ever remained of it. They got married in a quiet ceremony with only a few in attendance, but all that loved them and wished them the best … …