DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sailor Moon
Chapter Three
Serena watched as Darien applied paint to his canvas. He was concentrating, a tiny furrow in his brow, and bit his lip as he carefully dabbed the canvas. She turned back to her own canvas and sighed. Why did Darien have to be so good at everything and she so inadequate? Even his simple touch was enough to set her on fire. She wondered if there was some special trick to it or if he was just special. She longed to feel him pressed up against her again. She was beginning to think of him as an addiction, because the more time she spent with him the more she craved him afterwards.
"Serena, you're going to have to do better than this to pass the class. Stop daydreaming," Mr. Brown said from directly behind her.
She jumped, a blush staining her cheeks at his reprimand. Everyone was looking at her now. When she glanced at Darien, her blush deepened.
"What is it you're painting, anyway?" the teacher asked.
Serena stared at the indistinguishable lines and colours on her canvas. She didn't even know what it was supposed to be.
"It hasn't revealed itself to me yet," she answered the teacher.
Mr. Brown made a sound in the back of his throat and ambled away, off to terrorise the next unsuspecting art student. Serena let out the breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
Soon after that, the class dispersed. Some students stayed back to talk to the teacher and others were socialising near the classroom door.
"So, what is it supposed to be exactly?" Darien asked as he joined her at her canvas.
"Not you, too!" she exclaimed, already mortified from her earlier encounter with Mr. Brown.
"I don't mean it in a bad way," he soothed, his storm blue eyes showing his sincerity.
Serena relaxed. "You tell me."
He was silent for a moment. "We'll just have to wait and see."
Serena was grateful for his support and had an overwhelming urge to reach out to him. They were standing behind her canvas so no one could see their movements. Serena touched his hand to show her thanks.
For one too-brief moment he linked their hands together. And then as if he'd suddenly remembered where they were, he pulled his hand away.
"I'll see you tonight, yeah?" he asked as he prepared to leave.
Serena smiled and Darien found himself caught in that tiny movement of her perfect lips.
She winked. He nearly laughed at how cute she was.
The arcade was particularly busy that afternoon, being a Friday. Kids from all different schools were playing the games or indulging in a milkshake. When Darien arrived his favoured seat at the counter was swarming with thirteen-year-old girls all vying for Andrew's attention. He shuddered at the thought of getting any closer to them.
Instead, Darien decided to brave the swarm of sixteen-year-olds that were Serena's friends.
"Hey Darien!" Raye called as she caught sight of him heading their way. "It's hectic, isn't it?"
"I didn't even know there were this many kids in the area," he remarked.
The only available seat was next to Serena. He was unsure if he should take it and risk blowing their cover. Serena gave him a knowing look and he decided to chance it. He slid into the booth next to her.
"So, Darien, do you have any plans this afternoon?" Raye asked, desperately trying to engage in conversation with him.
He smiled, which was a bit surprising to the girls. "Sure do." He felt Serena's amusement next to him.
When the girls tried to probe further into his vague answer he refused to answer them. He felt Serena's hand grip his fingers tightly under the table.
It felt nice to be touched, even if she was only doing it as practice.
When Andrew appeared with a round of milkshakes, Darien was disappointed that she let go of his hand.
He was sure she was going to be the death of him.
That night, Serena appeared wearing a tiny pair of cut-off jeans and a pink singlet. She was so young and pretty that she took his breath away. He could see a sliver of skin between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her pants and marveled over how smooth and creamy it looked. He wanted to run his tongue over it.
"What are you thinking?" she asked as she opted to sit on the dining table while he was finishing up in the kitchen.
"Your skin," he blurted, instantly regretting it. He felt the tips of his ears burn hot.
She only smiled. "What part of my skin?"
He walked over to her and ran his hand over her midriff. "This part," he murmured.
She placed her hand over his on her stomach and started to lift the bottom of her singlet up. He nearly let her take the whole thing off but stopped her at the last minute.
"Wait, we haven't even practiced kissing yet," he told her, halting her movement.
She frowned. "I thought we were still at the touching stage. Don't you want to touch me?" she asked, her eyelashes fluttering. He gulped, looking over the dips and curves of her clothed body. He would give anything to see it laid bare before him.
"Hmm, it's tempting," he said and she grinned, ready to take her shirt off. But he stopped her again.
She slumped back on the table so that she was propped up on her elbows and sighed in frustration.
"Then what are we going to do?"
He stepped up to the table so that he was between her spread legs and yanked her towards him. She sat up, startled by his actions, and watched as he studied her face. His attention shifted to her lips and it felt like a decade before his lips finally met hers.
As soon as they did, she exploded. His mouth was warm and inviting and everything she'd imagined her first kiss to be. She melded into him, his warmth encircling her. She never wanted to leave his embrace again.
He must have realised that this was her first kiss, because he began to lead her with his mouth. He showed her how to deepen the kiss, how to use her tongue to dance with his. He coaxed her into different paces. Soon she was lost to him, to his mouth on hers. She didn't know where she ended and he began.
When they finally pulled apart, she was a mess. She could have happily melted into a puddle right then and there.
"Mmm, you taste like honey and bubblegum," he commented. She lazily lifted her hand to his lips and gently touched them.
"You're dark chocolate," she said without any embarrassment.
He kissed the tips of her fingers.
"Dare?" she asked.
"Mmm?" he mumbled, immediately liking his new nickname. It hinted at the intimacy between them.
"Do you think we can do that again?" she asked.
He chuckled, but obliged her quickly enough. He lifted her up and her legs wrapped around his waist tightly. Then he moved them to the couch, where they could get more comfortable.
They pressed together, seeking out each other's warmth. When Serena got the hang of kissing, she was soon so passionate that they both swore they would have bruises the next day. She couldn't get enough of him, his mouth, his taste, the sounds he made into her mouth. No matter how hard she tried to get closer to him, it wasn't enough. She could never get enough of him.
When things looked like they were about to move to the next level, Darien pulled away. He surveyed Serena, her swollen lips and mussed hair, and felt satisfied at having done that to her. He took pride in giving her the best kisses she would hopefully ever have. He wanted to leave his mark on her, even though it wasn't fair to the guy she liked. But he couldn't help his need to possess her.
"Sere, it's really late," he told her. She looked at him with sleepy eyes, but sat up when his words registered. She checked her phone and laughed.
"We've been making out for an hour and a half."
He smiled at her. "It didn't feel like that long."
She climbed up off the couch and made her way to his bathroom. After fixing her hair and trying her best to disguise her swollen mouth, she reentered the room.
He walked over to her and pulled her into his embrace. He leaned down and gave her a long slow kiss. This kiss was so intimate that her toes curled.
"Goodnight," he whispered.
She reached up and gave him one last peck on the mouth before she was gone, leaving her scent behind.
He breathed her in and smiled.
