Just Love
by Shy Violet
This little tale is a companion story to sailorstar0183's "Does age really matter?". She's a close friend of mine, and this is my humble tribute to her. Besides, who can resist a good love story? My companion world features the Four Sisters (from Sailormoon R fame)
Disclaimer: Do I really look like I own any of these characters? People, I'm a college student! I'm scrapping to pay tuition! The orginal characters are copyrighted to Naoko-sama and Toei Animation...not me. I'm just using them in my own little world! Major alterna time line here people...take heed!
June had to be the worst month of Patricia Petz's eighteen-year-long life. Nothing seemed to be going right at all! Her job opportunities had fallen through, her grades had bottomed out at school, and this new medication her doctor had put her on was wreaking havok on her moods instead of evening them out like they were supposted to. Nobody around home even bothered to use her nickname anymore! She preferred being called Prisma, taken from her multi-faceted personality and love of colors. At least Trish was even better than the annoying full-length version of her name everyone adopted here!
Life. It just sucked.
That, and the fact that she and her band of "sisters" had gone their seperate ways for the summer. She really missed the tall brunette known as Avery Karaberas, her extremely funny and wonderfully sweet best friend. That girl...she could cheer up even through the darkest moods and saddest times. The two girls shared similair backgrounds, and loved staying up late talking about absolutely nothing at all. Ave had decided to forgo the rest of her college education and enlist in the Navy as a nuclear engineer, so Prisma was going to be minus a dear friend the next year.
Robyn "Birdie" Beruche and Ekaterina "Catsy" Cooan, the last two members of their motley crew, were two very crazy girls as well. Birdie, the good Lord love her, was a total blonde, down to her platnium tresses. She sometimes forgot exactly what she was saying, and then just started giggling. That usually set off ebony-tressed Catsy doing the same thing, who Prisma secretly thought had been dropped on the head as a small child. The girl ran around campus barefoot in December!
But, her mind was wandering again. Prisma, dabbing her forehead with a towel after her foray into eliptical trainer land, grabbed a water bottle from her fridge and flopped on her couch, taking a minute to glare at her phone.
That was another thing awry...Eric Safiel, nicknamed Saphire by their whole graduating class. Prisma and Saphire were the dream couple: he was the tall and dark skinned star center of their basketball team, with dark ebony hair and amazing blue eyes, and she was petite with fair skin, with dyed golden hair and amazingly bright jade green eyes and a penchant for being stylish. When they had left for college, their three-year-long romance was blossoming like a beautiful rose. When they returned...
The rose was as wilted as a rose left in the sun.
Prisma sighed, picking up her black cordless phone, pressing the talk button, and hearing nothing but a dial tone. She groaned, set the phone back on the cherry coffee table, and picked herself back up off the couch. "No use just sitting here...doesn't look like Saph's going to call today!" she muttered, swiping at the insistant strand of darkened hair that kept wanting to interfere with her emerald colored eyes. Her Southern accent, thanks to countless years living south of the Mason-Dixon line, had doubled in the past few months (thanks to meeting more Southerners) to the equilivent of the Virginia breed of Scarlett O'Hara.
At college, she had given up her facade of perfect Valley Girl and let her hair go back to its natural dark auburn color and began to act more like the self Saphire had known for years. At this point in time, she had shorn her once waist-length hair to barely brushing her shoulders in a chic shaggy bob, the natural red and and bronze in her hair lighting glowing skin and her green eyes, hidden behind small reading glasses.
Her first year at Harvard had been a toughie. She, a pre-law studies major, had taken on being an honors student with the same drive that had made her be an ace student in high school: next to nil at times. Looks like good ol Buchanan High strikes again! she thought wryly, remembering what a breeze most of high school had been. She had breezed through with an almost perfect GPA, graduating high and getting killer scores on the SAT, enough to get her into her dream school of Harvard. Then, everything had hit the girl hard and her health had contributed to a downward spiral.
Of course, Saph studying medicine at Duke University had absolutely nothing to do with it, now did it? Prisma, by nature, was a very independent young woman. Her parents, Donovan and Audrey Petz, had only had one child, so she was accostomed to entertaining herself at home. She had also adapted to college life quite easily, pledging a co-ed music organization called Nu Delta Xi and getting involved with her church (Prisma was half Catholic via her dad's side and a practicing Methodist). The brothers had elected her Vice President within a semester of her induction, so that paperwork was keeping her plenty busy without having a paying job thankyouverymuch.
Prisma, shaking out the wrinkles in her black cotton jazz pants and straightening the dark hunter tank she wore, strode into her den and sat down at her laptop, logging onto America OnLine. The familair buzzing sound greeted her as the pop up screens came up and that well-known voice intoned "You've Got Mail!" as she clicked on the little mailbox icon.
"Junk, junk, forward from mom, junk, mail from Ave, junk junk...ah!" she said forlornly, clicking through the little icons dejectedly. Her eyes locked on a piece of mail from Serena, her friend from Harvard that was hard at work at a research facility during their summer break.
TO: PrismaAyakashi45@aol.com
FROM: SeaofSerenity@lunar.com
SUBJECT: hello!
Prisma,
Greetings from N'awlins! Life is pretty good here in the bayou country...interesting, but good. Met plenty of interesting characters...especially this one guy. His name is Darien, and he's the best thing ever.
"Well, Praise the Lord," Prisma said, fiddling with the ring she sported on her left hand. Serena had experienced an...interesting time in relationships of the past, so she deserved a good guy. She scanned through the rest of the letter quickly, stopping only when she read the final lines.
...everything is great, except for one thing. Darien...he's only 15. Pris, how can I fall in love with a guy who's four years younger than me? Help!
Love,
Serena
P.S. How are things going with Saphire? Or are they?
The girl, staring at the screen, just sighed. "Sere dawlin, love don't exactly always come in th' form we intend for it to," she sighed, clicking on the reply icon and poising manicured nails over the keys. Her fingers flew, typing out a short but meaningful message back.
TO: SeaofSerenity@lunar.com
FROM: PrismaAyakashi45@aol.com
SUBJECT: RE: hello!
Sere,
Dear, love doesn't exactly choose which person we're fated to fall in love with. I, of all people, should know. Just follow your heart, and everything will be alright. Besides, wasn't your *ahem* last boyfriend older than you?
Much Love,
Prisma
P.S. He's being a guy again...I hate that, don't you?
She immedietly hit the send button on the e-mail, then closed down the program. She then hit the play button on her newest song collection she won off of an auction, Japanese lyrics floating through the air and relaxing her frazzled nerves. The question from Serenity had her mind buzzing and senses reeling. "Why do I stay with Saph?" Prisma stated to the air, standing up from her comfy desk chair with a sigh.
"Maybe because love has this habit of reaching past all boundaries," a smooth, utterly male voice stated as the tall young woman turned around, a gasp caught in her throat. Standing in her door frame was the male in question, dark hair tousled by the hum of the air conditioner and lean physique outlined by a snug navy blue shirt and blue jeans. His eyes danced with mirth behind a set of small glasses, a smirk on full lips that even then, in all her rage, Prisma longed to kiss.
"What are you doing here?" she quizzed, acid almost dripping from her tone. She crossed the wide, sunny living room, almost toe to toe with the much taller boy. He smirked in that irritating, albeit sexy way of his as he looked down at the fuming young woman.
"I'm here to apologise for yesterday," Saphire said, eyes soft with affection. His hands went to her shoulders, but Prisma stepped backwards, hands on her hips.
"How in the name of Mary did you get in here?" she said angrily, tapping a sneakered foot in a stacatto rhythm, eyes narrowed. He held up the keyring that held his car keys, a silver house key among them.
"Remember...your mom has me feeding the cats while you guys are on vacation," he said teasingly, jingling them as he placed them back in his pocket. Prisma scowled, turning away from him.
"Remind me to change the lock," she said darkly as she felt his hands come back over her bared shoulders. Saphire sighed, feeling her muscles tense up under his touch.
"Prisma, you know I didn't mean to break off our plans yesterday. It's just my parents..."
She whirled around, fury contained within her dark green eyes. "Your parents forgot we had plans again?!?" she bit off, fists clenched. "Or...did they just think that seeing each other twice a week was too extraneous? For Christ's sake Eric, we're adults! AND IT'S NOT THE DANG 1960'S!"
Problems had slowly but surely risen between the Prisma and Saphire thanks to their drastically different parents. Prisma, the daughter of liberals who grew up in the late 60's and 70's in either a big city or a military base, had been raised to think for herself and basically given lots of freedom since she had proven herself responsible. Saphire, on the other hand, his parents were extremely conservative and very strict. They had gotten married later on in life, and waitied about ten years to have Eric, and then another five to have his brother Chris. So, it was liberal free-thinkers versus conservative dictators.
Didn't exactly make for a great relationship!
Saphire sighed, taking her face in the palm of his hand. "Prisma, I love you. They're not going to change that," he said quietly, watching as the look of anger melted away on her face.
Prisma sniffled, smiling slightly. "When you talk like that, I can never stay mad at you for long. Saph, I'm sorry."
"I am too...forgiven?"
"Forgiven if I am," she whispered, standing on tiptoes to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. They embraced, Saphire resting his chin on Prisma's head. He laughed as she pulled away, a quizzical look on her face.
"Pris, tell me why our fights are so stupid," Saphire sighed, hands resting on her waist. She just grinned, winking coyly and pointing at herself.
"Angel...your 'rents are pure Nawthern...mine are as Southern as cheese grits and collard greens!" Prisma said with a grin, tackling Saphire in a crushing hug. The music in the background colored the mood, Prisma's favorite song blaring away.
Just Love!
Ki ni kuwanai aitsu
Ijiwaru wo shichau no wa "suki da kara" yo
Just Love!
Ki ni naru kara itsu mo
Muri na koto itchau no
Chotto go-me-n ...Just Love...
Fin. Ch 1
by Shy Violet
This little tale is a companion story to sailorstar0183's "Does age really matter?". She's a close friend of mine, and this is my humble tribute to her. Besides, who can resist a good love story? My companion world features the Four Sisters (from Sailormoon R fame)
Disclaimer: Do I really look like I own any of these characters? People, I'm a college student! I'm scrapping to pay tuition! The orginal characters are copyrighted to Naoko-sama and Toei Animation...not me. I'm just using them in my own little world! Major alterna time line here people...take heed!
June had to be the worst month of Patricia Petz's eighteen-year-long life. Nothing seemed to be going right at all! Her job opportunities had fallen through, her grades had bottomed out at school, and this new medication her doctor had put her on was wreaking havok on her moods instead of evening them out like they were supposted to. Nobody around home even bothered to use her nickname anymore! She preferred being called Prisma, taken from her multi-faceted personality and love of colors. At least Trish was even better than the annoying full-length version of her name everyone adopted here!
Life. It just sucked.
That, and the fact that she and her band of "sisters" had gone their seperate ways for the summer. She really missed the tall brunette known as Avery Karaberas, her extremely funny and wonderfully sweet best friend. That girl...she could cheer up even through the darkest moods and saddest times. The two girls shared similair backgrounds, and loved staying up late talking about absolutely nothing at all. Ave had decided to forgo the rest of her college education and enlist in the Navy as a nuclear engineer, so Prisma was going to be minus a dear friend the next year.
Robyn "Birdie" Beruche and Ekaterina "Catsy" Cooan, the last two members of their motley crew, were two very crazy girls as well. Birdie, the good Lord love her, was a total blonde, down to her platnium tresses. She sometimes forgot exactly what she was saying, and then just started giggling. That usually set off ebony-tressed Catsy doing the same thing, who Prisma secretly thought had been dropped on the head as a small child. The girl ran around campus barefoot in December!
But, her mind was wandering again. Prisma, dabbing her forehead with a towel after her foray into eliptical trainer land, grabbed a water bottle from her fridge and flopped on her couch, taking a minute to glare at her phone.
That was another thing awry...Eric Safiel, nicknamed Saphire by their whole graduating class. Prisma and Saphire were the dream couple: he was the tall and dark skinned star center of their basketball team, with dark ebony hair and amazing blue eyes, and she was petite with fair skin, with dyed golden hair and amazingly bright jade green eyes and a penchant for being stylish. When they had left for college, their three-year-long romance was blossoming like a beautiful rose. When they returned...
The rose was as wilted as a rose left in the sun.
Prisma sighed, picking up her black cordless phone, pressing the talk button, and hearing nothing but a dial tone. She groaned, set the phone back on the cherry coffee table, and picked herself back up off the couch. "No use just sitting here...doesn't look like Saph's going to call today!" she muttered, swiping at the insistant strand of darkened hair that kept wanting to interfere with her emerald colored eyes. Her Southern accent, thanks to countless years living south of the Mason-Dixon line, had doubled in the past few months (thanks to meeting more Southerners) to the equilivent of the Virginia breed of Scarlett O'Hara.
At college, she had given up her facade of perfect Valley Girl and let her hair go back to its natural dark auburn color and began to act more like the self Saphire had known for years. At this point in time, she had shorn her once waist-length hair to barely brushing her shoulders in a chic shaggy bob, the natural red and and bronze in her hair lighting glowing skin and her green eyes, hidden behind small reading glasses.
Her first year at Harvard had been a toughie. She, a pre-law studies major, had taken on being an honors student with the same drive that had made her be an ace student in high school: next to nil at times. Looks like good ol Buchanan High strikes again! she thought wryly, remembering what a breeze most of high school had been. She had breezed through with an almost perfect GPA, graduating high and getting killer scores on the SAT, enough to get her into her dream school of Harvard. Then, everything had hit the girl hard and her health had contributed to a downward spiral.
Of course, Saph studying medicine at Duke University had absolutely nothing to do with it, now did it? Prisma, by nature, was a very independent young woman. Her parents, Donovan and Audrey Petz, had only had one child, so she was accostomed to entertaining herself at home. She had also adapted to college life quite easily, pledging a co-ed music organization called Nu Delta Xi and getting involved with her church (Prisma was half Catholic via her dad's side and a practicing Methodist). The brothers had elected her Vice President within a semester of her induction, so that paperwork was keeping her plenty busy without having a paying job thankyouverymuch.
Prisma, shaking out the wrinkles in her black cotton jazz pants and straightening the dark hunter tank she wore, strode into her den and sat down at her laptop, logging onto America OnLine. The familair buzzing sound greeted her as the pop up screens came up and that well-known voice intoned "You've Got Mail!" as she clicked on the little mailbox icon.
"Junk, junk, forward from mom, junk, mail from Ave, junk junk...ah!" she said forlornly, clicking through the little icons dejectedly. Her eyes locked on a piece of mail from Serena, her friend from Harvard that was hard at work at a research facility during their summer break.
TO: PrismaAyakashi45@aol.com
FROM: SeaofSerenity@lunar.com
SUBJECT: hello!
Prisma,
Greetings from N'awlins! Life is pretty good here in the bayou country...interesting, but good. Met plenty of interesting characters...especially this one guy. His name is Darien, and he's the best thing ever.
"Well, Praise the Lord," Prisma said, fiddling with the ring she sported on her left hand. Serena had experienced an...interesting time in relationships of the past, so she deserved a good guy. She scanned through the rest of the letter quickly, stopping only when she read the final lines.
...everything is great, except for one thing. Darien...he's only 15. Pris, how can I fall in love with a guy who's four years younger than me? Help!
Love,
Serena
P.S. How are things going with Saphire? Or are they?
The girl, staring at the screen, just sighed. "Sere dawlin, love don't exactly always come in th' form we intend for it to," she sighed, clicking on the reply icon and poising manicured nails over the keys. Her fingers flew, typing out a short but meaningful message back.
TO: SeaofSerenity@lunar.com
FROM: PrismaAyakashi45@aol.com
SUBJECT: RE: hello!
Sere,
Dear, love doesn't exactly choose which person we're fated to fall in love with. I, of all people, should know. Just follow your heart, and everything will be alright. Besides, wasn't your *ahem* last boyfriend older than you?
Much Love,
Prisma
P.S. He's being a guy again...I hate that, don't you?
She immedietly hit the send button on the e-mail, then closed down the program. She then hit the play button on her newest song collection she won off of an auction, Japanese lyrics floating through the air and relaxing her frazzled nerves. The question from Serenity had her mind buzzing and senses reeling. "Why do I stay with Saph?" Prisma stated to the air, standing up from her comfy desk chair with a sigh.
"Maybe because love has this habit of reaching past all boundaries," a smooth, utterly male voice stated as the tall young woman turned around, a gasp caught in her throat. Standing in her door frame was the male in question, dark hair tousled by the hum of the air conditioner and lean physique outlined by a snug navy blue shirt and blue jeans. His eyes danced with mirth behind a set of small glasses, a smirk on full lips that even then, in all her rage, Prisma longed to kiss.
"What are you doing here?" she quizzed, acid almost dripping from her tone. She crossed the wide, sunny living room, almost toe to toe with the much taller boy. He smirked in that irritating, albeit sexy way of his as he looked down at the fuming young woman.
"I'm here to apologise for yesterday," Saphire said, eyes soft with affection. His hands went to her shoulders, but Prisma stepped backwards, hands on her hips.
"How in the name of Mary did you get in here?" she said angrily, tapping a sneakered foot in a stacatto rhythm, eyes narrowed. He held up the keyring that held his car keys, a silver house key among them.
"Remember...your mom has me feeding the cats while you guys are on vacation," he said teasingly, jingling them as he placed them back in his pocket. Prisma scowled, turning away from him.
"Remind me to change the lock," she said darkly as she felt his hands come back over her bared shoulders. Saphire sighed, feeling her muscles tense up under his touch.
"Prisma, you know I didn't mean to break off our plans yesterday. It's just my parents..."
She whirled around, fury contained within her dark green eyes. "Your parents forgot we had plans again?!?" she bit off, fists clenched. "Or...did they just think that seeing each other twice a week was too extraneous? For Christ's sake Eric, we're adults! AND IT'S NOT THE DANG 1960'S!"
Problems had slowly but surely risen between the Prisma and Saphire thanks to their drastically different parents. Prisma, the daughter of liberals who grew up in the late 60's and 70's in either a big city or a military base, had been raised to think for herself and basically given lots of freedom since she had proven herself responsible. Saphire, on the other hand, his parents were extremely conservative and very strict. They had gotten married later on in life, and waitied about ten years to have Eric, and then another five to have his brother Chris. So, it was liberal free-thinkers versus conservative dictators.
Didn't exactly make for a great relationship!
Saphire sighed, taking her face in the palm of his hand. "Prisma, I love you. They're not going to change that," he said quietly, watching as the look of anger melted away on her face.
Prisma sniffled, smiling slightly. "When you talk like that, I can never stay mad at you for long. Saph, I'm sorry."
"I am too...forgiven?"
"Forgiven if I am," she whispered, standing on tiptoes to plant a sweet kiss on his cheek. They embraced, Saphire resting his chin on Prisma's head. He laughed as she pulled away, a quizzical look on her face.
"Pris, tell me why our fights are so stupid," Saphire sighed, hands resting on her waist. She just grinned, winking coyly and pointing at herself.
"Angel...your 'rents are pure Nawthern...mine are as Southern as cheese grits and collard greens!" Prisma said with a grin, tackling Saphire in a crushing hug. The music in the background colored the mood, Prisma's favorite song blaring away.
Just Love!
Ki ni kuwanai aitsu
Ijiwaru wo shichau no wa "suki da kara" yo
Just Love!
Ki ni naru kara itsu mo
Muri na koto itchau no
Chotto go-me-n ...Just Love...
Fin. Ch 1