A Monster's Love
Disclaimer: as per the norm lol.
A/N: Haven't been writing in months, so I decided to post one of my older one shots up as a starter before I start writing again. Thanks for reading! It really gives me the encouragement I need.
There was a monster in her kitchen. And of all things it had to be doing, it was breaking her favourite dinner set. It was annoying, the noise he made. Wait, that is – was the only dinner set she had. Oh was she mad. Yet she was helpless, she could not get up. At least not when she was hiding under her padded quilt , pretending childishly that she was not there. It was as if she had gone back to her childhood years, when she let her imagination go wild and never got it back again.
And then the knocking started.
She lay motionless as it lumbered its way past her room, while the wooden floorboards sighed as it clumsily tripped over the edge of a jagged board, the items in his arms spilling all over. She rolled her eyes as she heard the unmistakable thump and almost inaudible curses. It was just as she expected it to react. She flipped over onto her back and stared at the light filtering through the quilt in a dreamy daze, her hair lying on her face in a tangled mess.
Someone once told me I was a mundane everyday type of woman you meet on the streets.
Someone once told me I was a cynical woman, incapable of trusting anyone without losing myself.
Someone once told me I was adept at only sarcasm and not at all deserving of love in any sense.
The truth is, I'm scared.
The monster was back outside her room, knocking on the door. She trembled under her comforter, hoping to derive some form of comfort from the warmth it emanated. Then she laughed. It was a harsh, mocking sound. The comforter did not give out any warmth of its own. It only consumed her, her body heat. It was a deceptive illusion. Just like how she always believed in people, only to realise that it was her alone who actually sacrificed, who actually gave in to them.
The incessant knocking continued.
A tear escaped, sliding down her face almost eagerly. Despite feeling like she was going to suffocate, she was cold. She curled into a fetal position, vulnerable and fragile. It was difficult to differentiate if her pillows were soaked with tears or perspiration. Once, she scoffed at people who claimed they had their heart broken. Now she knew.
And yet she still loved.
Perhaps it is actually possible to love someone with what's left of a broken heart.
He met her in a park on an autumn evening, while she was drawing.
'Withered flowers?' he asked, ' why so?' He settled himself down on the simplistic bench next to her, smiling gently.
'None of your business' she replied defensively, annoyed at his proximity. Yet more so at her sudden attraction to a random stranger who made casual conversation with yet another stranger.
'Scared?' He raised an eyebrow 'I'm not an everyday stranger you meet on the streets huh'
She ignored him and shifted away, uneasy yet pleased. She thought he failed to notice.
But he did. He saw that secret smile blossoming on her face.
'Sakura, open the door' the monster said in a raspy almost undecipherable tone. Her brows came together in a line. Why was it sounding like that? she mused, almost concerned.
'Sakura!' it shouted, banging on the door with muffled sounds. Mao turned her back to the door, closing her eyes painfully. 'Sakura! Sakura!' the monster persisted. Unknowingly she clenched her fist, unwilling to acknowledge his existence.
Sakura caught herself. 'his existence?' She had admitted it without herself knowing. She buried her head in her pillows.
Sakura was in the kitchen, making dinner as per normal. He came in; smiling the same smile he had many months ago. Somehow it still made her stomach feel like there were acrobats flipping gleefully. She looked away, pretending to be unaffected.
'Won't you accompany me in the living room?' he asked, hugging her from behind, his head fitting perfectly in the crook of her shoulders, a playful look on his face.
'Well, who's making dinner then?' She raises an eyebrow, certain that he'll be stumped.
'Aw, you know I hate cooking, don't you?' his deep baritone rang out with uncontrolled mirth as she attacked him with sneaky tickles.
'Let's just order take out!' he exclaimed.
The knocking continues, persistent against all attempts to ignore it.
Sakura uttered a muffled scream, exasperated. Just as she thought it – he was done, the monster burst through the door, the latter falling to the floor in a pathetic heap of firewood. Sakura shut herself off from the outside world, reluctant to face him.
His voice was raw with an unheard of emotion. Yet she was in denial, she refused to believe that he would care and that he was just pretending.
'Sakura, you have to eat, Sakura'
' Love, ignore them. You still have me.'
'Sakura, you'll get worse '
'Please, please.'
His voice slithered in and out of her consciousness, barely registering traces of what he said. She covered her ears. Could he not shout so? Her head hurt and she – despite what she claims; pretends- was hungry. It had been two days since she had taken food. At least it was her own choice.
Sakura felt something was amiss, but she could not care less. She hated that cruel cold way betrayal worked. And so she was shutting everyone out of her life.
Including him.
Sakura was drawing again.
A family portrait.
A family portrait in which people clutched blissful smiles to themselves, as if they had a secret they wanted to share.
Sakura wasn't happy. Every smile she drew, a tear rolled down her face. He was always there for her. After months of being together, he was used to her. Climbing to the attic quietly, he sat beside her and clutched her hands in his. Her hands were beautiful, he noted, scouring the lines of fate in them. They fit in his perfectly.
'Marry me, Sakura'
Sakura looked up into his understanding eyes and somehow, she found that they were perfect together. Like two pieces in a puzzle, lost in a confusing mess of other pieces but always finding their way back without fail. The monster was pissed, to put it simply. It pulled the pillows off Mao in one try. She whined, feeling deprived of that one luxury left. She slumped back into bed weakly when he tried to pull her up.
'Leave me alone Syaoran'
The first words she had spoken in days. As her lashes fluttered shut, she missed the frown that darted across his face and settled there. Then he shook his head, all traces of the frown disappearing as he looked at her sleeping she lay, looking just as gorgeous even when she was unwell. Her hair, while thoroughly messed up, framed her face in dark satin ribbons. She looked thinner, more fragile than ever. He was getting impatient.
In the next instant, he took her by surprise and scooped her into his arms deftly as it she was the lightest yet most fragile cargo there was in the world. Her eyes flew open.
'Syao-Syaoran! what are you doing? Let me down, let me down now!'
For the first time in her life, Sakura was shocked out of her wits. She was just innocently lying there, not moving a single muscle when she felt herself being lifted in the air. She let out a scream as she looked around wildly, hoping against hope that she was being fetched to join the angels. As soon as she felt the warm and strong arms surrounding her, she found herself turning her head towards the culprit. Syaoran knew that in a matter of seconds, Sakura would calm down. A small smirk crept up his face as he ignored her protests and strode out of her room.
Sakura stopped struggling and clutched at him, a desperate look in her eyes.
Syaoran set her down on a chair gently and covered her bare shoulders with his jacket. Tears that she had suppressed sprung to her eyes with renewed vigor. She opened her mouth, ready to explain her unreasonable actions. He stopped her. In that instant, she knew he parents' absence had hurt her as much as his parents' had hurt him. Her father had left her just as his did. They wouldn't make the same mistake their parents made, she knew.
'We won't make the same mistake?' Then she goes into a mental diatribe at herself. Why ask the obvious?
Syaoran flicked his tongue over his lips, a serious look in his eyes.
'I can't look into the future, but I know we will never end up in that situation. '
' Why? This could be the beginning of another mistake'
'I know, ' Syaoran says, a lopsided smile appearing. 'But now we know what not to do.'He pointed at the table on which a metal cover hid something out of sight. 'The most important thing now, I believe is this.' Sakura reached out and removed the metal cover, not expecting anything. Tears welled up as suddenly as a hurricane as she sat and stared. Syaoran misread her silence.
'You know, I hate cooking so you better eat this. ' he scratched the side of his neck in an awkward manner. ' I mean it! ' He warned, 'even if its terrible.' Sakura flung herself at Syaoran, hugging him as tightly as she could. There on the table it lay before her.
A hot steaming bowlful of love.
An unspoken promise of what's to come.
A/N: Yup so that's it. Im afraid it seems rather draggy, thanks for reading :)