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Chapter Two: A Perverted Fiancé

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It was a hard day of doing almost nothing. I'd practiced my cooking skills for hours today, with my own spare time, and still I was terrible. I couldn't whisk the mixture to something fluffy and light. The teacher had already given up on me months ago, telling me to study a cookbook or something.

So here I was, months later, depressed. I untied the back of the blue and white apron, and hesitated. Should I stop already?

It was at that moment I couldn't smell the burnt oven, but sweat. Was I being too anxious? Had I increased my panting without noticing? I rubbed my head with my hands, and heard the apron drop.

"Ah!" I bent down to pick it up. I twisted it around in my hands, while trying to calm my breathing down. But instead, I heard my breath in my ears grow louder. I felt so uncomfortable; I quickly went to tie it at the back. I was struggling to tie the knot. My hair was getting caught near the waist, and down my back.

It happened so swiftly at first, in my lazy, sleepy movements, I thought I was really in a dream. But I thought it was so real. Strong, but graceful hands reached around my waist, and a chin rested on the back of my neck.

"I love Rima," he mumbled, now massaging my shoulders. "You smell so good."

I screamed, my instincts trying to turn me around, and get him off. But another part of me actually enjoyed having someone love me like this. But I knew it almost instantly, it was a pervert. Do I like perverts?

I pushed and pulled, still not fully understanding the situation with my fuzzy mind. I'd had a sleepless night as a wandering thief. I shook my head violently, getting a firm grip on reality. I was alone, in my bedroom, trying to cook. The window was open, and a pervert was hugging me tightly around the waist. He had just confessed his love to me.

"Gross!" I kicked my leg wherever possible. I know, like most situations like this, the heroine has unexplainably good aim, hitting the pervert in the privates. But I was terrible at fighting or whatever, so I hit air. "Shit!"

I fell backwards, flailing my arms while struggling to grip something. I found hair; purple, long, silky hair. I pulled towards it, using it as something to be 'stabilized' with. Of course, in the heat of the moment, I was even stupider than usual.

This time, I was a stupid, clumsy heroine, without any good looks, brains or skills. But now, thanks to this situation, I'd pulled him over me. It was hard not to get a good look at his face, because it was only a few centimeters away from mine. His arms pinned me down, hands at my wrists. My legs sprawled along the floor, and it looked like he pounced on me.

I went to shout for help, my lips barely opening before…my worries came true. My first kiss, which I never thought would happen, happened. He saw my eyes widen, and his head leaned away from me. He just smirked. It was that same, grinning face, that wild purple hair, big yellow honey eyes. Tarzan boy was still here? He still cared about me? Wait, did he still care about me? Did he ever care for me at all?

Tarzan boy smiled at me, pressing a finger to his smirk. He muttered to me, "Don't make a scene, alright?" Of course, I'd screamed so many times today, because of ingredients exploding, so nobody came rushing to see the 'commotion' anymore.

He rolled off me, and let out a huge sigh. I looked at him quickly, scared and cautious for anything suspicious. I sat up straight away, patting my hair down. Then, taking a little of the anger off of my accusation I would rant at him, I breathed out deeply.

My eyebrows furrowed, and I bit my bottom lip. Here it comes. I spat, "You stupid freak! Stalking me while I was cooking! You know I can't cook, after the numerous attempts to help me when I was little! Leaving me half-way through your lessons didn't help either!" I couldn't stop now; I was a train, at full speed, down the tracks of my life. There he was, jumping aboard my train, even though he didn't have a pass, or better yet, permission.

He looked surprised, not even flinching like the other boys', as I shouted some statements from my heart, all planning to hurt his feelings. Well, that's what they usually do. It seemed, in this situation, it was only drawing him closer. This boy, who I had called Tarzan, because of his wild ambitions, and never telling me his real name, was opening his arms wide. Did I really get to hug someone? Do I even deserve to?

"I missed you! My parents were just ranting about stupid things! Everything is worthless! Everything was worthless! A hug! Are you serious? Nobody really hugs anymore at the palace. Do you see anyone hugging? No. That's because nobody loves anyone, especially me," I lost my steam; the train was coming to a halt. This boy had found his way to me, the conductor of my life's train, and was keeping me from going any further. "…Nobody loves me…" I sniffled.

Why did he stop me? Well, because Tarzan boy just gave me a hug. He didn't give me a disgusted, forced smile, it was real. The most heart-warming thing one could possible give me right now, would be a smile. So that's what he did. How he knew to do that? I'll never really, truly know. When his hands gripped my shoulders very tightly, he leaned back, still on his knees. He was kneeling in my kitchen mess, just to give me some love.

I whimpered, tears streaming down my face. Were they useless? I can't really tell because I never cried like this for a long, long time. I didn't feel anything, any pain or happiness. I was too emotionally unstable to fully comprehend this feeling. But somewhere inside me, something had opened up to new ideas, new feelings, and new people. Along with this, however, came unstoppable tears.

Tarzan boy smiled, as he spoke, his hands tightened on me, "My name is Fujisaki Nagihiko! You're Mashiro Rima, the girl 'I' fell in love with." He seemed so much more real, not just a past memory. He was as perfect as I remembered him.

A gentle smile that comforts you, stands bravely in front of your river of tears; long purple hair, it was silky and smooth to the touch; large, curious eyes, the color of a waning yellow moon; and last but not least, in fact the best part, was when he grinned. It was so full of happiness, a wild, teasing, possibly even a smirk, but it sparked you up, made you want to jump around and be wild, like him.

He made me feel complete; the last piece of the puzzle was found in a completely different box. He looked like he had all these extra pieces to go around, and once he'd found yours and put it in, he'd forget about you, then move on to the next one, the next, clumsy or beautiful puzzle. But that wasn't true, right? If 'Nagihiko' was a playboy…I don't think I could handle it.

I suddenly noticed, around his neck, a huge pair of headphones. This made me notice his clothing, it was strange, he wore huge baggy pants and an oversized t-shirt, but how did he get here unnoticed, wearing something so bright and noticeable in a palace?

Wait. I heard footsteps rushing down the hall, coming closer, growing louder. They stopped outside the door. I turned quickly to face him, blushing, as I wiped away my teary mess from my face, "You got here unnoticed, right?"

He laughed awkwardly, his arm rubbing his shoulder, "Maybe…?"

Nyaw: Well, to clear things up, it is rated M sorta from this chapter, xD and for chapters-to-come. :O

Rima: D: TOO PERVERTED FOR ME. . I ISH NOT LUBBING SOME PERVERT.

Nyaw: But he's your tarzan boy. xp (note my fail name)

Rima: I was young and rebelious. DX

Nyaw: o3o ........ o3e;; Sureee...

Nagi: Haha, me a pervert? XD No way!

Nyaw: -________- Uh.

Nagi: Ha... :U ;;

Nyaw: Pervert~ ^^

Nagi: FRAWK.

Rima: That whole puzzle thing... D:

Nyaw: Cheezeh, I know. FYI: I HATE CHEESE. sorry. -makes fun of rima- I have "rebelious" tastebuds.

Rima: GVY*%R)^F)R**$)*#*)*$^-!!!

Nagi: ... ^^; Please R&R... I guess.