DISCLAIMER: One, I do not own Tales of the Abyss or any of the characters mentioned herein. I just have a dirty mind sometimes that I do own. Two, this was written on my old account ( /allergic-reaction etc.) as Blood Down the Stream. You can still read this fanfic if you wish; it is still up. I can no longer access that account, and I really wanted to revamp this story. If there is a problem with that, feel free to PM me. Just please don't be upset when you see basically the same story up. Either way, enjoy!

"This was the day that I learned to never fall for the enemy." A dark recollection, Syn/Guy.

Tête-à-tête
Tête-à-tête: A face-to-face meeting, or private conversation between two people, usually in an intimate setting; a head-to-head.

Prologue, a recollection: touch.
Touch: come so close to (an object) as to be or come into contact with it.

There was just something about the way he thought. The way he walked, the way he talked, it all drove me crazy; it made me hate him. He carried himself so proudly. There was no one on his back. He knew who he was, unlike me. Why was he someone? Why do those people want to be around him? Why was he so damned wanted, so seemingly perfect?

I felt my eyes flutter shut. An image of the blonde and his gleaming smile blurred by for an instant; no eyes, just his smile set on his shapely jaw.

"Synch," a voice was starting to pull me from my thoughts, "Synch, are you okay?" It was a small, timid, feminine voice, unlike his. His was perfect: a smooth, clear tenor voice. That perfect voice had come from his perfect-

"Damn it, Guy!" I shouted, "I hate you so much!"

Silence.

The voice crept up again quietly. "Synch?" She asked, reaching out to touch my shoulder. I sighed and looked at her. It was just Arietta.

"What?" I snapped, "Can't you see I'm busy, Arietta?"

She looked down to her feet and opened her mouth as if she was about to say something, but quickly pursed her lips shut. "Nevermind," she retorted, all trace of what she may have said lost. And with that, she ran off, and I went back to my thoughts. "Women," I scoffed.

I brushed a hand through my hair and rested my head in my hands. Something was off. "What?" I muttered, bringing my hands down in front of my eyes, as I expected them to be blood-stained. My face felt warm. Was I ill? Or wait... I can't have been. Was I?

That's when I realized it: I was blushing the whole time I thought of him.

I sighed and cursed under my breath. "Ah, Yulia. I can't believe this."