Untitled
Summary: Kyouya/Haruhi. Tamaki/Haruhi. Kyouya/OC. "Why did you marry me?" It was a rhetorical question. Because they both know the reason why. For Ootori Kyouya, it was all just for profit.
Disclaimer: After 48 hours, I've finally considered bathing. Oh, what joy, clean water and soap bring forth!
A/N: Hey, I have news! I've got A Series of Unfortunate Events with the Demon Lord's last chapter at the back of my mind. I'll go write it as soon as I've got the drive to do so. But of course, I still have to fill in a lot of gaps before I get to that point. Motivate me with reviews. Bwahaha! This is one long ones-shot so brace yourselves. Anyway, this came up to me when I was taking a bath. Thanks, cold water. Enjoy! BTW, if you could think of a better title, tell me. I'm open for suggestions.-sweatdrop- A little proofreading was made. Laziness struck me and my mom was trying to kick me out of the computer.
-+-
"Why did you marry me?" she asked as she flipped through another page of the new fashion magazine she was reading. It would have been believable that she was interested with the new design Hitachiin Kaoru released this week for the Paris Fashion Show if only she wasn't holding it upside down. She was nestled on the couch across her new husband, Ootori Kyouya, who was busy skimming over a business report about the new branch their pharmaceutical company was planning to open in America.
Kyouya straightened up, and stretched his legs under the coffee table. He tossed the documents on the empty space beside him and lounged on the cushion while examining his wife over his square-rimmed spectacles, which Haruhi had given him as a present on his previous birthday.
He considered her question for a moment. But thought better of it. After all, they both knew the reason behind their arranged engagement.
Hanazono Amaya is the legal heiress of the largest medical conglomerate around East Asia and Europe. They've owned the most influential hospitals around the world and as a regular drill for business, Ootori Yoshio and Hanazono Akito, as great friends and as fellows along the medical field, decided to merge their power through marriage. Amaya was twenty-one and Kyouya was just a year older.
"Why do you suddenly ask?"
In his own opinion, she wasn't really pretty, nor was she surpassing average IQ. She was brought up well, he can see that, although sometimes, she could be a real chatterbox and he had to plug his earphones on just to drown her out.
They've been married for over a month, but even so, they were not even sharing the same bedroom. Although most of the time, Amaya would go visit him, simply to ease off her own boredom, or to merely tick him off.
"You were in love with Fujioka Haruhi, right?" she went on while completely discarding the magazine away, which landed on the table with a loud thud. "Why didn't you fight for her?"
It was all about merit for Ootori Kyouya. He would do anything for profit, even if it takes so much to let go. He has been in love with Haruhi, and would still be. But as a member of a different social circle, in which Haruhi had regretfully, did not belong to, he wouldn't choose her. He couldn't. Even if it took all his willpower to turn away.
Then, Tamaki took over what he had left off. Lucky 'prince'. Just because he had the power to decide what he wants and because he had nothing else to lose, he was taking advantage of everything.
He was infuriated. Not because Tamaki had stolen Haruhi's heart. But because he couldn't fight for her.
"Haruhi's happy now. Everything that happened between the both of us is officially over."
"But you're still in love with her," she argued back, scrutinizing her husband all the while. It was a statement of fact--not a mere opinion.
"I am," he finally admitted while turning back to the business on hand. He was still half-way through and he only has until tomorrow.
He loves someone else. And Amaya knew that there was nothing more to expect. Love did not exist in their relationship and it was a fact that she had learned to embrace right after the wedding. She had seen that. And she wasn't anyone to argue.
-+-
"Why did you marry me?"
Kyouya was watching the late-night news when Amaya barged in with a plump pillow between her arms. She settled right next to him and casually made her way up on the beanbag.
"My door was locked." Annoyed from the sudden intrusion, he racked his brains, thinking how many people he had 'entrusted' the duplicate key of his room to. Tachibana had one. He also had given Tamaki a copy, to simply shut him up, after he found out that the previous one was a fake. And then--
"Fuyumi-neesan handed me a copy," she spoke matter-of-factly while snatching the remote out of Kyouya's grasp and decided on a Japanese cartoon, much to Kyouya's dismay.
"It's two in the morning. Go back to sleep." He wanted to be alone.
She pouted childishly while cupping Kyouya's jaws, forcing him to look at her. "Is my husband also having trouble sleeping?"
He tried to hide the twitch by glowering.
"No. Go back to your room," he pulled away as she punched her pillow stubbornly while whining about her developing insomnia, which she got from him because he was 'positively infectious.'
"Plus, you didn't answer my question."
"How many more times are you going to bother me with the same ones?" he eluded pointedly while leaning down to settle on the pillow on her lap. Moments after, he was falling asleep.
-+-
Hanazono Amaya was lonely. Ever since she was a child, she had learned to understand how to live the life of the rich. She was brought up that way. As a single child, when there wasn't anyone else to turn to, when there wasn't anyone else to laugh with apart from the 'old people' working on the mansion, she felt so alone.
But when Kiriya Len came up to her one day, she knew that finally, there would be someone who would listen. There would be someone who would make her laugh. That there would someone who would wipe her tears away.
"Len is your brother," Hanazono Akito told her when a seven-year-old Amaya came jumping up and down his bed one day, waking him up at four in the morning. She was blabbering about how they played tag together yesterday and how he carried her on his back and ran around the whole house, breaking three or so antique vases he had acquired from India and China. But even so, he was happy that his children were getting along so well. At least, Amaya wasn't so lonely anymore.
Coiling her fingers on a stray lock of her chestnut hair, Amaya waited for the other line to pick up. She was bored and Kyouya was away for a business trip. Right before he was leaving for his flight, she had asked if she can go visit home or if she was allowed to go out with her brother because she was feeling bored but he straightly declined her request, reminding her that she's a married woman, tied to him over God's blessing. Screw with that. She's not an ordinary married woman after all.
"Hello," Len's booming voice sounded ecstatic over the receiver. "Aya-chi! I knew you'd call."
"Eh, how would you know?" she asked quietly, trying to mask the loneliness on her voice.
"Nah, I just know. Is something wrong?"
Amaya heard a rustling of sheets over the line and added, "Such a sloth."
Len chuckled amusedly as he tried to picture her nose scrunching in disgust and her eyebrows almost touching. "I'm Okinawa right now; do you want me to drop by?"
Okinawa? She mused while wondering what the hell he was doing there.
"Honey, what's wrong?" Amaya jumped at the sound of another girl on the other line. Of course. Len's a guy with the same active hormones like any other twenty-seven-year-olds.
"There's no need, idiot," she supplemented hastily as Len chuckled once more. "Just do what you need to do. Bye."
And with that, she cut the line.
-+-
"Kyouya?"
For the eleventh time that week, she had broken her way in his room once again, this time; carrying a large stuffed bear Len had given as a present when she turned eighteen. A large lump was on the bed, still and pretending to be asleep. Nevertheless, she scrambled her way through the thick layer of blankets and poked her husband repeatedly on the side.
"Kyo-kun, can I sleep here?" she pouted innocently while pulling him up in a sitting position. Grunting disbelievingly, he forced his eyes to shut close, before she stabbed them painfully with her finger, and they instantly fluttered open.
"You can't sleep here. I'm a guy," he told her, in case she had forgotten. As much as he wanted to admit, he's a guy with darn active hormones. Regardless of the fact she was practically his, he didn't want to violate her.
"But I miss sleeping with Len."
That's not the point.
"Just go back to your room." He handed her a large pillow, twice the size of her own form. "Take this and pretend it's me. Have fun. Good night."
Kyouya turned his back on her and buried his face under the pillow, wishing the heavens to take and get her off his sight in an instant. After a total of two hours and seventeen minutes of uneventful slumber last night, he wanted to get his proper rest and his own wife ain't even helping. "Don't bother me."
Amaya, remaining persistent as ever, hugged the pillow and her teddy bear closer and let herself fall on the soft bed. "I'll stay right here."
"Can't you be more stubborn?"
"But you smell like Len. Let me stay her for a while. I'm feeling a little lonely."
-
"Why aren't you blaming him?" Kyouya bursted out after a moment of silence, suddenly enjoying the warmth she was radiating.
"Why should I blame him? He's my brother."
"Your mother died of depression because she found out about your dad's illegitimate son. Shouldn't you be blaming him?
"My mother was mentally ill. I don't think anyone should be blamed." It was a fact, that which Kyouya found difficult to argue with.
-+-
Kyouya woke up in a bad mood. Through the open blinds, he could tell that it was still freaking early morning. How can he be so deprived? Dammit. All he ever wanted is a nice, cozy slumber that could last for at least five hours and not magnificently glorified ninety-seven minutes.
A slender arm draped over his shoulders and he stiffened instantly. Right, Amaya was there with him. How lucky.
He shifted his weight and turned to face her.
Her hair was in a total mess, pooling over the side of the pillow they were sharing. A long lock of hair was spread over her eyes and Kyouya subconsciously brushed it away.
In his opinion, she looked like a cute, little kitten lost among the large crowd. Her face was devoid of any worries and she looked totally at peace. Kyouya wondered why he had been totally oblivious about it.
They've been married for over two months and not even once had he ever paid any close attention to his own wife. He knew she wasn't comparable to the other beauties of the whole world because she wasn't pretty. She was actually plain and if you wouldn't dress and decorate her with jewelries, she would simply look like any normal girl seen around the streets. In addition to that, she was annoying. Every time she'd drop by to 'visit' him, she'd talk about anything nonsense that would eventually tick him off. After that, when she gets into his nerves, he'd simply carry her out of his room.
He'd considered replacing the locks of his door but thought better of it. She had Fuyumi's side and he's one level out of advantage.
But somehow, in those two months that she'd known her, he had found himself attracted to a part of her personality. Whenever she'd turn into a chatterbox, sometimes, he would find himself stashing his laptop away and stretch his muscles, finally settling to listen to her stories, which all seemed unending. She'd talk about his brother and about their childhood together, or about the pony his dad had given her as a present and how Len taught her how to ride it, or how her mother would play the piano for her to lull her to sleep or how Len would tuck her in or how her closet reeked with the forgotten stack of cat food she had hidden inside, or how her cat, Kiki, ruined her favorite shirt. They never seemed to end. But Kyouya found that he was somehow enjoying how she would relate all of them. Sometimes, he would find himself laughing with her, or he would smile at how animated she would appear to be. It eases him a little.
But still, Haruhi was out of the question. In Kyouya's eyes, she was everything. She was incomparable, and she had a certain kind magic that dazzles and drowns him down to the pool of his own senses. It was simply painful to think that right now, the only person in her heart was his best friend, Tamaki.
He was in love with Haruhi and that was an unchangeable feeling, he was sure of it. All he simply needs to do is shut up, do nothing, just for the sake of her happiness.
Kyouya got distracted when Amaya stirred and groaned silently. He pulled away, blushing with the proximity of their faces. When had he leaned in?
"Hm? Kyouya? What time is it?"
She didn't notice the faint tint of red on her husband's cheeks. She didn't hear his erratic heartbeat. She simply lay there, closing her eyes once again and drifting back to dreamland.
-+-
The Suou-Fujioka wedding was all over the media. The press wouldn't be any minute late regarding the updates about the couple's arrangements--the wedding rings, the guests, the reception, Fujioka's diet, everything was detailed and nothing was left untouched.
When the official couple's interview was aired on television, Kyouya was watching. But right after the first TV commercial, he had fallen asleep on his own couch. After all, the inaugural party of the new branch in America was a successful blast as he expected it to be and a work-free weekend was too tempting to ignore. Plus, Amaya had drained all his energy from all the shopping and sightseeing they had done and sleep was something he would greatly welcome.
Fuyumi had visited them that afternoon. She was chatting up with Amaya on the balcony, questioning her about how Kyouya had done after their 'first night,' and how her fertility was faring. They had been together for over four months, after all. Kyouya's sister never found out that what her brother and Amaya did inside the hotel room that night of their honeymoon was simply watching a horror film, The Grudge Series.
When Fuyumi excused herself about missing an appointment with her gynecologist, she had handed Amaya a small, square envelope, telling her that Tamaki and Haruhi asked her to hand over. "They both want you to attend."
Amaya wasted no time and hastily tore the paper open. It was indeed an invitation for their wedding and Tamaki had made Kyouya his best man.
"Kyouya?" She had barged once again inside her husband's room by using the copy Fuyumi had given her. Striding across the couch, she was caught by surprise when Kyouya was laying face out, his head resting comfortably against the armrest. The television was shouting an ad about a new potion for breast enlargement and for a moment, she had to eye it with disgust before turning back to an unusually out-of-character Ootori Kyouya.
"Hey," she interrupted with a hard prod on his right cheek. Kyouya remained unmoving. Easily giving up, she sat on the carpet and watched the interview, hoping Kyouya would wake up any moment.
"...but before Suou-san, Fujioka was seen going out with Ootori Kyouya, right? Did things go well with the two of you after the break-up?"
Amaya's ears perked up and focused herself on the show.
Haruhi looked uncomfortable but still cute as ever with the Hitachiin dress she was wearing. Surely it costs thousands of yen. Who would have thought that a mere commoner like Fujioka Haruhi had changed from a Cinderella, to a real princess?
Tamaki took over. "Kyouya's my best friend. He's actually my best man for the wedding so I guess that explains everything, ne?"
Such issues arise. Such lies. Deep down, Ootori Kyouya was hurting.
But of course, they wouldn't know. Only Amaya knows how much pain he was going through. Because in spite of everything, he remained his cool and tried to pretend. Just for the sake of his best friend, and his own love's happiness.
Amaya turned to look at him with deep apprehension. He was holding a small book, she had just noticed, and out of curiosity, she pulled it out of his grasp.
It was a mini-album she had never seen before. Haruhi's large brown eyes looked up to her happily and she was wearing a boy's uniform. Each page contained the same photos. It was all Haruhi.
"You really love her, ne Kyouya?" she tossed the album to the center of the coffee table and shoved the opened invitation on the trash bin before leaving the room.
-+-
Kyouya made a lame mental joke that it was his turn now to barge in his wife's room. She had trustingly handed him a copy, and about seven or so maids she had taken a liking to.
When he opened the door, classical music filled his ears. A familiar scent of exotic flowers lingered on his nostrils. It was Amaya. She was sitting on the bed, flipping over a large, leather-bound book. He didn't bother to close the door before deciding on sitting beside her.
"What's that?"
Amaya looked up to her husband with an acknowledging smile. "It's a yearbook. Just skimming through. What brought you here?"
"Why aren't you dressed?" he asked as he readjusted the knot on his tie.
"Why are you so dressed up?"
"Didn't you check the date today?" he asked her, pointing over a calendar with large letters of J-U-N-E 17, Wednesday on the front page. "It's Tamaki and Haruhi's wedding today."
She blinked once, trying to register his words. "I thought we weren't going?"
"Who told you that? Besides, I saw the invitation on my trashcan. Say, who could have thrown it in there?"
Twitch. 'I was doing it for you, idiot.'
"It starts in an hour," he reminded her as he looked at his diver's watch. "As much as possible, I want to avoid that idiot's whining for being late, so if you please...?"
"All right," she gave up exasperatingly while throwing the yearbook against the pillow. "I'll be over in a minute."
-
"Kyouya, are you ok?"
Amaya had approached her husband who was out in the veranda, looking over someplace she couldn't tell what. Right after they had reached the reception hall, he had separated himself from the rest of the group and acted as cold as ever. And now, he was in a daze and he had just consumed his eleventh flute of champagne.
"I'm fine," he replied coolly while grabbing another glass from a passing waiter. He drained the flute at once. That was his twelfth.
"Aren't you drinking too much?"
This time, Kyouya turned to face her. "I can handle myself."
He was leaning in, slowly closing the space between them. Amaya couldn't tell if she was even breathing. He was so close that she could feel his warm breath tickle her nose...
And then, he fell unconscious, his face burying on the crook of her neck. The empty glass broke with a tinkle on the marble near their feet.
Attending the wedding was indeed a bad idea.
-+-
The problem about Ootori Kyouya was his stubbornness. When he said he didn't want to, he means it and when you go against him, you'll be in deep trouble. Kyouya's attending nurse barely missed a flying bowl of porridge when his wrath exploded. He was in a severely foul mood that morning and he wouldn't give a damn. He wanted to be alone.
"Shitsuka-san?"
The poor nurse was clutching her chest, trying to fill her lungs with oxygen. Amaya had approached her, with a questioning look on her face. "Is he all right?"
Breathing in, Shitsuka told her that her patient, young master, had skipped his meals yesterday and until now, he refused to eat anything. He didn't even let her check his blood pressure or his temperature and he simply scared her off. It was terribly terrifying.
When Amaya got up to his bed, the look on his face was incomparably bloodcurdling. He looked like a homicidal massacre killer, ready to strike at any moment. You wouldn't even want to witness.
But even so, she didn't flinch. She simply closed her eyes and pretended not to feel his negative aura. What the hell is wrong with him anyway? When Kyouya finally spoke, she took it as a cue that it was already safe and opened her eyes.
"What are you doing here?"
"Your nurse told me you skipped your meals. Is there anything wrong?" she voiced her concern, her tone full of sudden apprehension.
"I'm fine. You can leave now."
But she didn't budge. Instead, she held her hand to his forehead and down to the side of his neck. "But your temperature's--"
She was cut short when Kyouya suddenly pulled her to a tight embrace. He buried his face on her shoulder, seeking attention as he brushed his lips against the soft fabric of her blouse.
"Kyouya?"
"Just for a while," he said, his voice slightly muffled. "Let me just stay here for a while. I'm feeling a little lonely."
-
Later that afternoon, Kyouya had resumed to eating his meals--Amaya-made. He was too amused that a rich heiress of a large conglomerate knows how to cook.
Amaya was left in the kitchen with four other servants, trying to clean up her mess, when her eyes darted on an old newspaper by the microwave. It was dated a day before.
'Fujioka-Suou Haruhi, Pregnant for Two Weeks.'
She read the headline three times over and skimmed over the article. After three months of their marriage, they were finally having a child.
There was a reason for a two-day-smug Kyouya Ootori after all.
-+-
It would the Amaya's first time to celebrate her birthday with someone else. Normally, it would always be with Len or her father.
But this time, as a married woman, she had to understand that it wasn't everyday that Len and father would always be there to burst inside her room and yell "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" at the top of their voice, freaking the hell out of her at the middle of the night.
Her husband was cold. And she knew that there wasn't anything to expect. Heck, she wasn't even sure if he knew she had just turned twenty-two today.
So after wishing herself a happy birthday, she went back to sleep.
-
The digital clock blinked 7:30 when Amaya jumped out of her bed to wake her husband up. She wanted to celebrate and in spite of doubting that he knew how important this day was to her, she didn't care. She'd simply beat it off him and have him do what she wanted. It was time for him to spoil her away.
But Amaya was left disappointed (and quite surprised, really) when his bed was left empty, and his room deafeningly quiet. She raided the bathroom, and his walk-in closet but she wasn't even close. Her eyes darted across the room, finally landing on a small calendar atop the hardwood drawer.
October 10
Friday
Meeting with the board
8:00 a.m.
Right. How would he have known?
Her shoulders dropped when she left his room. Moments later, she found him aiming instructions to Tachibana who was nodding vigorously after every sentence. And then, he spotted her standing by the threshold, unusually quiet.
"Why are you up so early?" he asked as he readjusted the knot on his tie.
'It's my birthday today, Kyouya.'
"If you're dead bored, you can ask Tachibana to accompany you outside. I'll be going now."
"Take care."
"Hn."
'Happy birthday, Amaya.'
-+-
She didn't know where she was going. She had just escaped Tachibana when they rounded around the corner and she asked him to buy her a pint of strawberry ice cream (yes, she can consume all of that).
Her feet brought her in front of a large game arcade.
Pulling her baseball cap further down to her eyes, she braced herself and walked in.
-
"What!"
Kyouya was furious. Nobody even told him, as he buried himself in his office, mulling over a meeting, that his own wife was missing. He didn't want to admit but he was darn worried. What if something happened to her? What if she was kidnapped? What if she got hurt? Or ran over by a large truck? His mind was in World War III.
He rounded on Tachibana who was bowing so deep, apologizing for his stupid mistake. Then, he wasted no time and jumped in front of the wheel and drove off, without any idea where to look first.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched the speed dial.
"Kyouya?"
"Where are you?" there was authority and anger lingering on his voice and Amaya didn't argue back.
Moments later, he was barging inside the arcade, with everyone else freezing on their tracks, alarmed as a menacing Ootori Kyouya marched his way up to the machines. Amaya smiled at the sight of him (in spite of the look on his face) and held up a small stuffed owl with large yellow eyes.
There was a choking silence where Kyouya took the time to stare and Amaya simply smiled back. "This is for you, Kyo-kun!"
Grabbing her wrist, he dragged her out and pushed her to the passenger's seat.
-+-
"Now, what are you going to say again?" Kyouya asked as he leaned on her door. His anger had not dissipated over the short ride back home, and she was starting to level it up with his temper. She crossed her arms stubbornly and avoided his eyes.
"If you want to hear my apology, eat dung."
"Amaya, you're being stubborn."
"Just get out of my room, you jerk!"
She didn't want a husband who didn't even remember that it was her birthday today.
"Fine. I'm not going to talk to you until I hear you apologize."
He slammed the door behind him, which almost made the hinges give away.
-+-
"I wouldn't apologize," Kyouya told himself moments ago but his feet were shouting otherwise. He suddenly found himself in front of her door, his knuckles suspended mid-air, waiting to land on the door.
He had just realized that it was darn October tenth today, and aside from that stupid meeting, it was her birthday. So, that's probably the reason why she was so rebellious today? He had just realized.
Curse it.
Without even knocking, he hauled the door open.
"Aya."
The lump on the bed didn't even bother to look up. "I thought you weren't talking to me?"
"I'm sorry."
What the--again? You heard that right. It was the first (and would probably the last) time he dropped his pride and apologized. Because most of the time, he was always right. But just this time...
"I didn't realize--happy birthday."
"What?"
"I won't say it the second time. Go get dressed. I'll treat you out." It was a firm order. And it was damn 11:30 p.m.
Well, at least he wasn't a minute too late.
-+-
Their wedding anniversary was just another simple day. It was the weekends and they were both home. Kyouya was, as usual, sleeping in and Amaya was trying to occupy herself in the kitchen. The servants were out for the day and she sent them off, without Kyouya's consent.
She was perched on the kitchen counter when Kyouya entered the room with a grim look on his face. She was wearing one of his shirts she had rightfully stolen from his drawer, while swallowing a scoop of ice cream directly from the container after giving up on making an omelet. She couldn't flip the egg without breaking.
"Where are the maids?" he asked while scratching the back of his head after noticing it was unusually quiet.
"I sent them on a day off. Honestly, they need a break sometimes."
Kyouya simply glared. What the hell is she thinking? Sometimes he sought to wonder how that brain of her actually works. It was real mystery, indeed.
"Why are you wearing that shirt anyway?" he asked, wanting to change the topic while internally complimenting how good it looked like on her as much as it did when he wore it before.
"Hm? I love your scent. It reminds me of Len."
Kyouya coughed, trying to hide the blush forming on his cheeks. Did she just say it out loud?
Jumping out of the counter, she made her way up to him and offered her ice cream. Kyouya asked a, "This is our breakfast?" before taking the spoon away from her from her.
It was wasabe flavor. Amaya didn't like the taste but still, she had no other choice because she was hungry and ice cream was the only thing that came up to her mind when she opened the fridge.
Kyouya watched her intently as she took the liberty of making him coffee. Great. Now, they looked like a real husband and wife. He quite smiled at the thought, liking the moment of quietness and peace between them. At least she wasn't Aya, the girl with a loud mouth for the moment.
"Do you still love Haruhi?" she suddenly brought up as she settled the cup of his black coffee beside him.
He leaned in to her ear with a smirk. "It's our anniversary today. Can't you think of something else to be a rightful topic of conversation aside from her?"
She pouted childishly when Kyouya took the cup up to his lips and said, "I was just curious."
And then he found himself thinking how cute she looked like at that moment.
"Can you give me a present? We've been married for a year after all."
And without further ado, Kyouya leaned in and pressed his lips against her and smirked when he heard Amaya's breath hitch in shock. It was a chaste one and she sighed quietly, her eyelids fluttering to close and her lips slightly parting.
"Mmph!"
Kyouya took the chance and slipped his tongue inside her soft cavern, tasting every bit of her. It was their first kiss as a couple, in spite of being together for over a year as husband and wife.
Amaya melted with it and let herself give away. She somehow enjoyed his warmth and it made her forget everything else. It was only the two of them for now. Kyouya's hands traced up to the back of her neck, brushing her hair slightly while pulling her closer to deepen the kiss, as he settled her between his thighs.
When he pulled away, Amaya was left breathless and silent.
"Ootori Aya," Kyouya started after his breathing evened out. "I've decided that I'm going to try and forget. You're my wife and I want to start something new." He brushed the stray hair out of her face. "I want myself to trip and fall in love with you. Can I do that?"
With the coffee forgotten and the ice cream slowly melting, she fisted the collar of his shirt and pulled him again into another kiss.
-+-
A/N: I know... (dodges over a shoe) I thought there were only tomatoes!!! (clears throat) Anyway. I gravely apologize for the crappy ending. (dodges over another shoe) Hem. Hem. And I think I'm gonna take a short break. Classes start by Tuesday and I don't think I'll have enough time.-_-" Well, I hope you like it! Constructive criticisms are more than welcome. Please, just don't flame.