Almost Had You
Summary:
Passion was something they both possessed in abundance, along with intelligence, grace, charm, loyalty, rebellion, dastardly good looks and the ability to piss each other off to the point of oblivion. So why the hell, were they so stupid to keep coming back for more? Simple, it's because the laws of attraction defy the rules of habit.
"Can you hear it?"
"Hear what?"
"My heartbeat...it gets like this when you're around. So fast and hard, I can hardly breathe, I get so dizzy."
TA-DA
"For once in my life, I don't know what to do with him…He makes it so hard to insult him! Nothing bothers him! And what's more, why don't I want to insult him?! Why?!"
-Tsukino Usagi
Chapter 2
drowning in essence
People pass me by, sometimes brushing against me unavoidably in the crowded space of the reception room as they make their way onto the dance floor now that they're finished with their eating.
The thought disgusts me, remembering how no matter where you go—catering companies really suck.
The food was so bland that I wish I brought a burger in my purse with me to eat.
Salad was all good and healthy sure, but even the dressing didn't taste good.
It was such a rip-off paying them at least one grand for this…crap.
But maybe that's just the meat-lover in me, or the frustration talking. And no, I'm not going to tell you why I'm frustrated...It's bad enough that it's even effecting me in the first place, but if I even think about thinking about it...well, I just...better not think about it.
Whoever said all artists were vegetarians must've been completely misled in their stereotypes because that's not even close when it comes to me…and to be blunt? I really didn't care about the whole weight thing for dancers…maybe I would though, if I weren't blessed with such an awesome metabolism.
The alcohol the bar serves doesn't even seem all that worth it to me either.
The drinks are labeled with fancy and pretty names that are meant to trick you into thinking they sound good when really, they taste horrible. And let's not forget the inevitably impending hangover waiting for you in the morning if you do choose to fall for the fake advertising.
Stupid advertisers screwing around with your head—I mean, it's just like how they used to use subliminal messages in the 1940's or whatever year it was on the freaking television—maybe it was more recent, since I'm pretty sure they used radios and that televisions weren't invented yet—to get you to sign up and join the army...and possibly die for a lost cause or petty dispute. I blame the politicians.
Just like I blame the people I see walking tipsily to the bartender asking for another hit right now.
I shake my head at them unsympathetically.
God bless their poor misguided souls.
But I hardly know them… so it's none of my business.
Although they really need to learn what's good for them or not.
But maybe I'm getting myself worked up over nothing.
Maybe I should just lay back and relax.
And what's there not to be relaxing?
For example, the soft sound of the waltz washing over the vicinity of the room is relaxing…
I have to admit, the bass player is pretty good at least and the singer's got a pretty rich voice. Past experience let's me know that the drummer is good at what he does, but observance let's me know he's bored out of his mind. I completely sympathize, but I don't feel so bad anymore thanks to the song. It's slow, lethargic tempo soothes me into calm serenity once I force myself to listen carefully enough and I close my eyes for a moment to relish in this momentary feeling of solitary refuge.
Lights blind me from behind my closed lids and the music hums softly in my ears, yet I still feel my eardrums pulse at the loudness the DJ is dishing the music out with the equalizer and the floor shakes with the blaring speakers under my feet where the band's music is amplified to a louder sound.
Speaking of which, these heels are killing me and the floor pulsing under them isn't really helping either.
I open my eyes when I wince, and I take in the scene on the dance floor dully as guest couples, young and old, silently retreat from the dance floor to make room for the leading man and lady of the night.
I grab a glass of wine from a caterer walking by and I take a desperate sip as soon as I bring my arm back from the large circular tray the caterer had been carrying around.
They really went all out on this…
I scoff.
I don't know what I think I'm doing as I'm standing here, like I'm really a part of this picture perfect movie, where alls well ends well.
Because it doesn't work that way for some people.
It's never worked that way for some people.
People like me.
And over the course of the whole day the event took place, I had my moments where I felt like I never should've come—like I didn't belong here…
The wine in the glass I'm holding with my right hand looked mighty tempting when that caterer walked by, but I forgot that wine's never really been my thing.
The bitter aftertaste in my mouth reminds me of that little fact.
Licking my lips trying to get rid of the bad taste, I gently place the glass down on a table nearby. I notice that the number the table had been deemed had already tipped over and landed in some spilt beverage until the ink of the number blurred, no longer readable to anyone.
Glancing back at the source of everyone's attention, I see his hand draped over her pale one and he leads my best friend down the steps of their raised table in the front to walk down the mine stairwell together.
Walking the rest of the way to the center of the floor, he wraps a caring arm around her hourglass figure in a sweet embrace, holding her against him while she wraps her own arm around his neck.
They glance at each other before looking to the side to link hands, slowly entangling their fingers to savor the feeling before he leads them in a graceful dance and she willingly follows.
I cross my arms behind my back, linking my hands and fingers while I'm at it, and then I lean back against the wall once more to gaze across the floor and examine the scene better through cobalt orbs, ignoring how my wrists dig into the lower back of my dress' cool material.
I sigh.
As usual, she looks beautiful.
Stunning.
Mesmerizing under the light and glory of the cameras and attention.
After dealing with chatty guests and picky cameramen—while they're making their way around the dance floor, sometimes saying short greetings to the guests they waltz by—it's nice for the room to be quiet for the moment as people watch, star struck at the couple's unity.
The strobe lights shower the room in a mass of dotted colors of the rainbow and spot my vision as though I'm looking through rose-colored lenses when the colors silhouette their figures in backgrounds of sienna or scarlet and fuchsia.
Everyone marvels over her surreal beauty with soft smiles on their faces and I bet they're thinking that they were made for each other.
That they fit in each other's arms so well, and that the looks in their eyes are right out of that fairytale of Cinderella or Snow White.
It's just like the Disney channel movies with all those happy endings and the shining knight in armor and the lovely distressed damsel.
It feels like I'm not really here experiencing this as a maid of honor to the blushing bride.
But that's what I am.
And I'm standing here, watching this play out before me—the pause button not really working the way I want it to in my mind like it does on the tapes or dvd's—as the maid of honor to my best friend no less, who was currently being serenaded by the wedding band and preoccupied with her groom like she has been the whole night...more like the whole day actually...and if we wanted to get technical then maybe it'd be more like three years...but hey, who's counting?
It feels like I'm melting into the walls for once instead of choosing to stand out in the crowd this time, and I can't do anything to stop it. But I guess I don't mind. This is her day after all, it's not like I want to steal her thunder.
I bring my right hand from behind me, letting it twirl the ornament on the silver chain around my neck absently while the bracelet she gave me as a gift lightly rings in my ear and I purse my lips in thought.
My best friend's married.
And she's happy.
She's happy.
That's all I've ever wanted for Minako.
All I've ever wanted was for her to find her number one and live that fairytale she was always telling me about, always trying to convince me with so that I would let myself fall with her.
But I couldn't let us both experience bliss when one of us needed to stay practical enough to protect the other.
Life hadn't exactly been that kind to me or her—not counting her good luck in marriage—so why would I want to let someone into my inner circle when I had all I needed with my best friend, a few other close ones, my aunt, my uncle and my baby brother?
You're probably wondering why I think like this, but Minako had been hurt one too many times in the past.
I'd always been protective of her because of that.
I often remember chasing off some of her suitors with clever and anonymous pranks where they never found the culprit until soon, they would leave Minako and their diabolic plans with her alone in the dust for good.
I was quite the guard dog when it came to people I cared about and Minako was definitely no exception in my book…
Each time Minako met a guy, they would date a while before she would introduce me to them and I'd always be the one staying polite and tolerant of their presence around her just because she liked them.
But even though sometimes she would really care about the guy, my gut would scream danger and warn me not to let that guy get close and I would end up doing something about it before things got messy.
Other times though, I would leave them alone because she seemed really happy and the guy seemed decent enough…
But don't worry—that didn't mean I didn't keep my guard up.
Quite the contrary.
Because high school was quite dramatic for the two of us to go through since Minako and I were equally popular with the opposite sex.
While others were smart enough to know that I was off limits with my dangerous temper and protective streak—many guys in our high school were still stupid enough to try and play with Minako even though she was notorious for having a loyal, protective best friend with a good right hook.
Me.
It was a day after she stormed into my room while I was doing a random guitar rift with tears running down her face, unashamed as she threw herself on me in a hug, hiccupping on my shoulder as she told me how her now ex had cheated on her with another girl…
I remember going up to him the next Monday after school and punching him square in the nose.
I never did tell anyone how much my hand felt like it hit a brick wall after...and I didn't care about the crowd I attracted on the football field when the players all stepped back and watched their star quarterback drop down with a bloody face in the middle of practice squad drills.
I commend them for being smart enough not to try and stop me.
Because the jackass didn't even have the guts to tell Minako the truth when he lied and said he was sick.
Frankly, he deserved more than just a broken nose…
He already had it coming with Karma on the way though.
But seriously—it was the first time I did something about one of those jerks openly.
Because I had really had enough of this shit with people playing with her heart.
And it pissed me off royally when time after time Minako still experienced different degrees of heartbreak with different guys even after the scene I made in front of all the 'big guys' on campus. Honestly speaking, I was just a little surprised when she managed to mend the broken pieces—again—and then she went and dated again with resilience.
Hell, Minako dated lots of guys.
Some good, some bad, some nice, some mean, some extremely good-looking and some…well I guess I could at least be thankful she wasn't shallow when some paled in comparison to her in looks.
So anyways, yes.
Minako dated.
She dated a lot.
But that was because she was looking for 'the one'… because she definitely was not a player.
She wasn't even close.
She was too naïve and trusting to lead the life of a player guiltlessly without concern or regret of the poor hearts she would have had to step all over…
And she wouldn't be the best friend I cared about if she was.
I just felt bad that she went through all those pointless break-ups—sappy movies, tear-a-thon, fattening junk food galore, included—when those exes really weren't worth her time to begin with since while she still cared they had already completely forgotten about her and probably banged the next one. Of course, I never told her that.
It was hard being her constant pillar sometimes because it made me highly snappish and angry at the world every now and then when my best friend couldn't get her fair share of happiness that—in my eyes—she was so completely deserving of.
To put it simply though, we went through hard times together.
Because yes, I had my fair share of problems too—I just don't feel the need to talk about all of them right now.
Because it was time to be happy for Minako.
Because that's what friendship entails.
Because throughout the years we grew up we experienced different levels of trauma and tragedy but we had always been more than enough support for each other with the way we were so easily able to make each other laugh and forget our trivial problems with optimism that life had more to offer.
Like for instance, preschool had been innocent and ignorant with our crayons and that boy who ate the liquid glue when the teacher told him not to.
Elementary was not only secluded but sheltered, since the supervisors often held us back from socializing with the 'older' kids.
Junior high was just a wanna-be version of high school…
And high school?
Well, high school was just an overrated four years filled with queen bees, cliques and rules of the superficial.
If I had to go back and make a speech in place of the valedictorian I would've made sure that future students were there to see the ceremony.
And I could truthfully say, that if I said 'welcome to the dark side', I wouldn't be joking.
I'd really mean it…and I'd feel bad for those freshmen that were suckered into believing that high school was going to be the 'best four damn years of their life'.
Because that was just bull and I knew it, the cheerleaders knew it, the jocks did, the loners definitely did, even Minako's cheerful outlook wasn't enough to keep her from knowing it.
We both were more than happy to have graduated high school and to move onto adulthood in the city where we pursued our childhood dreams and promises to each other, entering the same University together.
The only downside to leaving was leaving behind our families who didn't have enough income to pay their way into moving into the city with us, but it was okay.
We had each other to make it through.
We'd been close since day one and nothing was ever going to change that.
That part was established long ago and it had remained concrete solid in its certainty through time.
Sometimes I wonder how she stuck by my side through thick and thin for so long when I was so complicated though…
But I'd rather not question what little good fortune God bestows upon me.
It really was no surprise that we ended up being roommates in the same dorm.
It was to be expected that we had completely different schedules though—other than our lunch and free blocks—since we shared wide ranges of different interests.
School years had been easy for the both of us with our academic prowess and enjoyment of sports—our social life was nothing to worry about either—so we figured University would be no different other than people would be more mature.
And University wasn't different.
And neither was Minako's habit of loving and flirting with boys.
Here's where the juicy details start coming in.
As we worked our way through the first few weeks of University settling into the routine, Minako had gone off to the café to buy us some food and our favorite coffee when we didn't have any groceries at home to provide ourselves a small dinner.
I gave her some money so that we split the bill equally even though I wouldn't be with her since I was cramming for once in one of my rare bouts of forgetfulness that I hadn't had since I was a kid.
However, after half an hour, I started getting worried.
It usually didn't take her so long to order when she knew both of our favorite things to eat down to the last sprinkle of spices or sauce.
I told myself that if she didn't show up soon I would call her cell phone, and if she didn't answer then I was going to go over there for her.
With that decided I had spent the next fifteen minutes doing the final touches on a project…
And just as I finished counting down the minutes until I would call her, she came through our dorm's door—blushing a bright cherry red and looking dreamy even when she accidentally bumped into a chair, and didn't complain for once—I was more than just suspicious and reluctant to hear about her latest bumping into a 'cute' guy.
I was more than mortified to have to have sat through at least fifteen minutes of her straight rambling on this guy with his light hair and dark eyes and skin and sense of humor and blah, blah, blah.
Don't get me wrong, I've had more than plenty enough practice learning how to tune Minako out when she got into her unalterable state of wistfulness, about the latest guy she was attracted to—but something about the way her voice sounded when she said his name told me that this was it.
This was what Minako had been waiting for.
The next two months would decide whether this guy she randomly met would be up to par with her expectations enough for her to decide whether or not to come bring me down to meet him.
And really?
I have to say that I was more than relieved...and also just a bit cautious to comply with her request via cell phone, to come meet her in the courtyard when she told me she was going to introduce me to him as soon as I got out of class and had the rest of the night free.
You have no idea, how crazy she was about him already at the time…and it had only been two months!
Things were already heating up between her and this mystery guy after three weeks of casual dating and I couldn't control my instinct to roll my eyes every time she gushed about this 'Mr. Right' who I didn't even give a rat's ass about.
Because it was difficult having a migraine of frustration when you were trying to compensate for a missed seminar with one of the biggest senile jerk professors ever—who just so happened to have the power to help decide your future.
And I'm sorry, but I really didn't feel like having my best friend go into a fit of tears when her relationship didn't work out again…
I inwardly frowned.
Wow, you probably think I just sounded like a bitch saying that but don't take it the wrong way because I just…I really wanted my gut instinct to be right about this guy.
I was hopeful this time.
I wanted to believe that Minako would get what she deserved and that she finally had someone who deserved every bit of her as much as she deserved him making her happy.
I wanted to be able to relax and trust this guy with my best friend's heart, because I wasn't sure how many more disappointments she could take before she turned out like me.
Not that I'm a terrible person—I'm not saying I'm great either, to set the record straight—but I wasn't your average cheerful and optimistic female when it came to men.
In fact, I'm probably the most unromantic girl you'll ever meet, too. Some might even go so far as to call me a manhater, and that really wasn't the case. I was just...hesitant to bother giving the opposite sex a chance considering my ugly experience with them. God, I shouldn't even have to feel the need to explain myself to you but whatever.
That's not the idea.
The thing is…I wanted Minako to find what she was looking for…
So when I met him…wow.
Wow, because did she ever find what she was looking for.
She found Motoki.
And I couldn't approve more.
He was a great guy.
Fun, loving, smart—he's like a brother to me now, too.
And I trust him wholeheartedly, with Minako.
So those weeks of having Minako's incessant rambling about how great he was didn't seem so pointless or unproductive in the end after all, because I realized that everything she had ever said about Motoki was right.
Accurate, on point and on the dot.
Deep sandy blonde hair and even more bottomless sweet bottle green eyes, Andrew was a heartthrob who was a package complete with an easy smile and an even easier laugh.
They made the perfect couple, complimenting each other terrifically and each of them good people.
If I could say something to describe those two, I'd say they were going to be the ideal family with the whole white picket fence and kids running around the house, playful and ignorant to the troubles of the adult world.
To me—as corny as it sounds, to my displeasure—they were two hearts in one.
Ever since Minako met Motoki, she's learned to be loud and outspoken, to be bold again when she needs to be instead of being silently insecure due to past heartaches…but she's still the same sweet and caring girl from my childhood.
And Motoki?
I see the way he looks at her.
He looks at her like she's the only one in the room, like she's the only one he'll ever love for now and forever… and I know that that's exactly the reason.
And I had been more than just happy for her that day I was first introduced to Motoki because I approved completely this time instead of fifty percent.
I was happy for them.
I am happy for them.
I massage my temples with my fingertips tiresomely.
…Except for the fact that I had the displeasure of being introduced to him.
So here's where things get complicated and where things start making sense why I've been going around in circles with my thoughts.
For as long as I could remember, there have always been twists and turns in my life, teetering perilously close into throwing me into the oblivion of the unknown.
My life was full of enough curveballs as it was, with the fact that my parents died while I was still just a kid and worked double shifts at thirteen—lying about my age, duh—just to help my aunt and uncle pay the bills while helping them nurture my baby brother in the unstable environment of a less than ideal city.
But I survived that constant rain cloud hanging over my head.
And life was pretty good.
Except for some of the events that have happened during my life that I rather would have not had to deal with…which brings me back to the issue of those curveballs that were regretless when they decided to become the bane of my existence in life at an early age.
They were a pain in the ass, is what I can say, a real nuisance that I couldn't ignore when they were constantly nagging me at the back of my mind…
Yet no matter how much they irritated me, Fate just couldn't resist throwing me another one.
One that was more persistent than the rest, and not so easily deterred or outsmarted.
I'll be honest.
I had little experience when it came to guys because I'd never been one for relationships.
At least relationships in that way…
I thought they were stupid and unreasonable.
It wasn't logical to let someone know your deepest, darkest secrets and to expect them to accept you without a question and without a doubt. It wasn't logical to give someone the ability to break your heart while blindly trusting that they wouldn't just to reassure yourself you weren't making a stupid decision.
Which if you ask me, I would say that I thought you were making a stupid decision—but that's just me.
And I wasn't particularly fond of guessing as to how much I meant to someone either.
Because relationships were based on chances, and I didn't like not knowing what was going to happen to me…
I didn't like those kinds of chances.
The ones where it relied on what the other person did to help you bridge the gap until you shared the burden fifty-fifty.
I guess you could say I completely agreed with that whole 'down with love' notion, because I had no intention of letting my happiness rely on someone else.
And here's where Motoki's best friend came in…
He was the most insufferable and egotistic asshole I had ever met…!
And when I was irked by the first thing that came out of his mouth, I wasn't placated when Motoki tried to vouch for his friend by saying that he wasn't so bad once you got to know him because he and him had been friends since they were young.
It just made me incredulous that he managed to be in the presence of…him…for that long.
Dear God…!
There was just something about him that pissed me off and rubbed me the wrong way!
It had to have been the first time I'd ever felt such a strong urge to kick someone in the shin before because I got to say—he was something else.
Something bad.
And there was my gut kicking in, telling me that he was not good for me.
So not good for me…
With his compelling charm, ridiculous wit and strong conviction in what he wanted—he was dangerous.
And when he seemed to get that knowing look in his eye, like he already knew that I didn't trust him in any way…
It gave me the go to let my distaste for him known that first meeting because I was past pretending being tolerant—because this guy wasn't the guy that Minako was mad for so I wasn't obligated to be nice this time.
For crying out loud, how the hell was someone as sweet and caring as Motoki the best friend of some slick, smooth talker with the ability to make girls swoon out of weakness in the knees…?
And yes, I have seen it happen before, no matter how hard those girls tried to hide it from him.
Because while Motoki was the boyish sweetheart with the impressive ability in anything intellectual or athletic…his best friend was some kind of suave embodiment of tall, dark and handsome—who was just as good at anything intellectual or athletic as Motoki was…if not more.
It really didn't comfort me when even the brainier feminists fell for his tricks.
Maybe I should've counted my graces and been glad that Motoki was his best friend though, because who knows how much worse he could've been without Motoki to balance him out and try to discourage him from his little game of fooling around with love and lust.
But that wasn't what I was concerned about.
I was concerned with the way that after I so gruffly shot him down a notch, he took a sudden interest in me and I was suddenly left with some kind of shadow that puppy-guarded me wherever I went.
And what made him seem even more pro in his tact of trying to play me was the way that it didn't seem like he was stalking me.
Not at all.
It was like I was just…constantly running into him through coincidence.
And I know that he didn't think I was stupid enough to believe they were actually just coincidences.
It really wasn't that great when I started being able discern exactly when and where I was going to see him pop out of nowhere to bug me.
Because it meant I had developed a sixth sense when it came to him.
And it pissed me off that I was that aware of him around me.
I'd finally had enough of it one day when I had the predictable premonition that he was going to be right around the corner I was about to pass, and I made it a point to shove him against the wall in my ire.
Because I was sick of his flirting. I was sick of his compliments and I was downright ticked off with his fake smiles.
I was tired of avoiding him like this when I knew that he wasn't going to let up anytime soon…
And I didn't even want to know what was going on through his head when I slammed his back hard against the wall with my hand on his chest wrinkling his shirt.
It was probably something kinky.
I was beyond logical reasoning at that thought and I struggled for calm when the words just spilled from my mouth and he swiftly knew out loud that I thought he was a jackass for thinking I would ever like him like the rest of the female student body.
And I swear to God, it didn't feel half as good telling him he needed an attitude adjustment as I thought it would because the insult didn't seem to faze him.
I wasn't thinking when I demanded he tell me why he thought I was so goddamn special.
And this is why I don't like taking those kinds of chances…because what he said next…
Man, I knew it was not good for me.
How he managed to observe so much out of my character when we barely even said a word to each other, fascinated me even though he told me that I did the very same with him by knowing I should be avoiding him at all costs and trying to douse his attention on me—in his own subtle way, of course.
And see?
I even knew what he was thinking and what he was trying to say!
My only comfort was that he was so freaking obvious about it, or at least that's what I told myself.
I think I inwardly slapped myself for being reckless when I said it, because I really hadn't meant to voice it out loud, but it was done when I told him that he should try dropping the flirting and try talking instead.
And the look of surprise on his face when I said it was enough to get me going and I left him there in the empty halls as I made my way to Physics with that old hag.
…He never failed to engage me in a conversation after that.
Whether it was arguing over who should've won the guy or girl of the year award of Japan—and I was surprised he actually managed to get me to talk about that kind of stuff—to arguing about the idiocy of our government, I was stunned when he was slowly drawing me out of my guarded shell to let him in.
It was unexplainable how we would have fights with our equally fierce tempers and how it was easy for us to forget about why we were so mad and to just hang out again like before.
And I really couldn't understand how I suddenly came to look forward to seeing him and talking to him about whatever came to mind.
He unexpectedly became considered a… friend to me.
I actually cared about him.
And I felt like such a hypocrite for being so close to him when just not too long ago, I had hated his womanizing guts…
But I noticed that after a while, he didn't seem so interested in getting laid anymore…so I figured that maybe…he wasn't so dangerous after all?
Over time, he became someone important to me and I overlooked the fact that he had made mistakes that had it been anyone else, I would've had a hard time accepting.
It was just hard not to with him!
Because he made me laugh at such incredibly stupid things and it was remarkable how easily he did it.
And I wasn't stupid…I knew there was something going on in there.
And I knew that he was aware of it too, but I could tell he was in denial.
So was I.
But I knew that I wouldn't be able to avoid it forever, because smiles came easy and unbidden around him and laughter was loud and constant…the fact that I even realize that wasn't good for my part because I didn't know how he felt.
And I didn't like not knowing.
I was a curious little thing, I know, and I couldn't help but question how he would sometimes come to mind whenever I was outside…course the color of his eyes flashed through my mind every time I saw that shade of ocean.
After that, I knew I should've never given him that hint before.
Because the one time I asked him for help with that old hag—who was a high supporter of favoritism—he helped me out patiently after having his laughs at my expense where I couldn't say anything back and when we took our break, our conversation was light as usual.
He made me laugh again and I remember the sound of his deep, rich laugh flowing through me soon after, warming me on the inside with a tingling sensation…but there was something I remember more.
I remember how I felt his laughter die down gently until he was silent and my own chuckles faded with my smile when I slowly noticed where he was looking and how warm I was starting to feel on my right side where I could've sworn he was getting closer to me. I swallowed at the contrast of his dark hair against the innocent sakura petals falling from the tree we sat under.
His eyes were searing into my own with unflinching attention, and it was like we were breathing the same air for just a split second…when he suddenly stood up and bid me goodbye with an excuse moments later.
This…was bad.
Very bad.
The way I was suddenly all too aware of flashbacks when he stuttered around me or suddenly zoned out and felt like fire under my hand…
I left the tree we were sitting under only seconds after him and I was afraid.
Because I knew that he cared about me…in that way.
And that he had just realized it.
And what he had almost done back there…
I couldn't believe how I had been anticipating it, and I didn't like the way my heartbeat tripled for a reason I didn't understand or how my senses had zoomed in on the moment until it felt like it was literally happening in slow motion.
And that's how I knew that I cared about him that way, too.
It was decided.
My heart had set its sights on the unobtainable.
But even as I realized this, I tried to find reasons why I shouldn't let this happen.
The way he held himself in the beginning was what instantly probed my attention with how he held himself together with pride and dignity, with a casual air and I think that I had been annoyed with him because I had been drawn to him.
He wasn't like anyone I'd ever met before.
He wasn't, with the way he was so popular with ladies that they strived for his attention or how he devilishly managed to subdue them with one look or smile.
…You really don't find a guy like that very often.
He was rare because he was wildly untamable and entirely unapologetic when he was faced with consequences of his thoughtless actions, but you couldn't be mad at him because there was something so admirable in how he was fearless when it came to punishment.
And I knew that Motoki was right when he said that he wasn't as bad as he seemed, because there was a human being under that bad boy playing front he put up.
Because he really did care about things, and I found that he was just like me.
We were two of a kind, so guarded and protected by our own versions of tediously built walls to shut people out from reaching into the part where feelings resided in our hearts.
He didn't want to bother with it either…
And that's when I found he got me.
You know, as in when you understood someone.
And that was strange to me because my own best friend had never fully been able to understand me like I could with her… yet here was this jerk that barged into my life uninvited and made me feel like I couldn't remember what it was like before he came in.
I admit, there had always been something about his unruly jet-black hair with that even more rebellious lock that fell into his eyes sometimes, his tanned bronzed skin from enjoying the outdoors like I did, and his slightly callused hands that had brought me comfort.
Even if it was subconsciously.
And when I remember how I started being able to discern whether his smiles were sincere or not…I grasped the fact that I liked when he did that—when his smiles were real.
Because underneath his lustful and casual outlook on life, he was actually a really…great person…definitely not an angel or anything but the world was full of sins, so who could resist their own fantasy version of temptation?
I know that he didn't…
But things were different after that day.
Our friendship became a little strained underneath the pressure of our attraction towards each other…but somehow…
I let out a breath.
I'm dumbfounded that we managed to last so long without cracking under desire.
That didn't mean that those accidental touches and lingering gazes never occurred though, because they did.
Quite frequently, actually.
And I think that the reason why we never did anything about it was because we were both afraid of what would happen…so our mutual attraction for each other stayed hidden under close wraps of our iron wills and it became a normal part of our uncommon friendship…as twisted as that may be.
Because the one reason why 'us' shouldn't happen that I managed to find, was that we didn't want to jeopardize anything and make it so that we would never be able to comfortably talk again.
I forgot to mention that when I said we lasted so long without cracking—there's a hint in there, saying that we lasted…which means it happened sometime later.
It being the situation where we cracked.
We were just lucky that we found a common ground to agree on during this wedding…a truce that nothing would happen during the planning of this wedding between our two best friends joining in matrimony.
I look back at Minako and Motoki just as the song ends and Motoki brings her down in a perfect dip, her back arched gracefully against his hand supporting her and their audience whoop and cheer in approval while rapping their forks and knives against their champagne glasses urging them to kiss…
I look away.
I didn't want to see how things could've been for me, because it was a definite that Minako and Motoki's relationship was completely different from ours.
The thing about us … was that neither of us have ever been one to follow anyone's orders…much less each other's…
And in my defense, you really couldn't blame me for not listening to my head instead of my heart this time…Besides, it's not like you could have expected me not to love him sooner or later especially if you were face with drowning in Mamoru's endless oceans for eyes of his. Don't snort at me...you know you would've done the same.
It could take a while for you to understand the full story…but what the hell?
This thing wasn't about to end till at least five in the morning anyway.
TA-DA
I really hope this is worth continuing…I'm having fun writing it so far anyways…
Oh, and just a heads-up, I'm not completely aware of Japanese traditions or anything like that so bear with me.
And Usagi seems a bit different here because I don't really enjoy seeing her klutz out and cry so much because people tease her for that—and she's a really good person, so I thought I'd show the stronger side to her that I see.
Mamoru's different too, so yeah his family is still alive, because I've decided to switch their roles a bit just to play around so don't worry.
ser3ne eternity.
aka;;azuresass22.