A/N: Okay, who put the stuff in my Mtn. Dew? Either way I read some mushy stories then some agonizing ones and came up with this rather twisted plot that sort of fell apart. Hope it makes senses and explains itself. Please R &R. Always appreciated.

Disclaimer: Yue is mine, damnit! not really...sigh...Syaoran is pretty hot too...why does he have to be like only 14 at end of series...? Why, Goddess, why?

ONe Just LIke US

I lost my world today. It is the saddest day I have been misfortunate enough to live through. Yet, with all death and destruction, I must believe in hope and that yesterday will fall away as a dream and tomorrow will ripen to reveal my mistress is still here.

The morning was beautiful. Then again, every morning was beautiful as long as she laid next to me in our bed dreaming. I used to wake up early and stare at her as she slept. Her lashes fluttering and her lips trembling with her ivory hand pressed close to her cheek. Her hair was spilt about her...no, us...wildly and I slid my hand across the silkiness of it till I reached her face, which I then leaned down to kiss her sleeping mouth. She opened her eyes and smiled so deliciously like a flower in full-bloom.

She would get up and some mornings she would drag the sheet with her. So white was the sheet, it reflected her innocence personified. I smiled at this ripened version of the girl I had fell in love with when we were children. She would laugh as she combed out her locks that had long since grown when we were in our late adolescence. Sometimes I would wickedly drag the sheet from her half-hearted grasps and then pull her luxurious down with me back onto our bed. Her protests and squeals were lovingly as I entranced her to let us slip away and share our obsession with each other in day light. Let the world hear! I did not care.

She was the empress and goddess of my heart and I do believe, my very soul and life. Wherever she did desire to go, happiness was sure to follow her like sunlight. Sliding her bare, pitter-patter feet across the kitchen floor, she would slid on her heels and then beg me to dance like we had on our wedding day. Just the two of us, alone in a world anew for two. Our fingers intertwining and her own invitations as her eyes sought answers to needs she needed to know, I would let her lean into me, and everything was just us, always us.

Looking back, I stumble back in the darkness and wonder where life did pass after she smiled and vanished like the lover she was in enticing me? Scent of her hair and the warmth of her hands in mine, or when I had her completely, and she me, was there anywhere on Earth I would rather be? No...

She was laughing in the kitchen again today before dawn when it first struck her. Her eyes were a bit hazy as she stopped short and looked at me with the light of realization. I felt nothing as I helped her to our bed. Her eyes were shutted up to me as her voice grew weary from pain as she cried shamelessly into her pillow. She grabbed my pillow and her muffled sobs were nothing when I saw it happening again.

Her chest was heaving unconditionally as she tried to hold out for me. This was not of our design. This was not our plan at all. I felt betrayed by a fate that had caused me to give up everything just for her love. This is my life...but I feel nothing.

Her hands are so pale now as she drinks her black coffee and eats white eggs. She hated that food more then all else. Her eyes do not sparkle anymore as constantly looks me dead in the eyes, goes to say something, then the moment passes. I tried to seduce her into telling me what it is that drives her into those maddening moments where her heart can be heard shattering and her tumbling onto her knees to weep. My hands through her now limp hair prove nothing as she repeatedly rocks herself and sometimes will burst into a rage of screaming if I touch her.

I am frightened for her. Her voice goes thin at night from her continuous moments of weeping like she has lost her best friend. This is surely the way it goes when one is in mourning, I muttered as I shuffled through some photographs in the album...our wedding day. Our first time as we gave away finally, that photo was of her standing the next morning in the clear dawn with sunlight worshipping her body as I do still. Countless photos of us before we knew we loved each other. Long before I even dreamed that she would be mine. The day she found out she was pregnant...that was just last week...

I walk through our house silently and I see her in the big chair in the living room. Her legs are tucked up under her and her hair shines darkly in the dimness of the setting sun. I walk to her and lean down to kiss her awaiting red lips which deepen in hue whenever I am this close to her. She wants me even when dreaming. I trace her skin with my fingertips as I draw my lips down to hers...

I jump as the door opens and a little boy runs in. His hair stands up wildly as he rushes to her side and throws his arms about her neck. I stagger back at our ruined moment, wondering who the child is. She opens her eyes from her peaceful sleep and brings him into her lap and smiles up at me.

"Syaoran..." she whispered.

I turn my attention from the boy to her. Her eyes sparkled for a second before a tear made it down her cheek. The boy turned and threw his still chubby toddler arms about her when the first tear splashes on her collarbone.

"What is it, Sakura?" I return in the same solemn terms. Her eyes close as she inhales slowly and swallows.

"This is your son...the one you never met since you died right after our pregnancy was discovered... I know you're there...this is him...the one who looks just like us."