Just wanted to say thank you for your reviews. I hope this chapter will be just as good as the others.

Hehe, took me a while to find the right words for the title, but I feel haunted is perfect, don't you?

Tell me what you think after you've read this chapter.

I Do Not Own Sailor Moon And Her Counterparts

You Have Officially Been Warned

Chapter Four

She was just one of the girls in his class. Skinny. Studious. Nondescript except he couldn't ever remember hating her for being either a tattletale or a shrieking idiot all through grade school. He'd hated every other girl––useless creatures who liked to laugh and whisper and slide looks at you. Darien had spent his youth certain that girls were some kind of punishment guys just had to endure for strange, mystical reason that began with the dawn of the human race.

She was a freshman before he took a second look. By then hormones were raging, and he spent half his time desperately trying to ignore girls, and the other half devoted to sports. Of course the occasional studying helped. But sports saved him, in fact, because they kept his mind focused and his body exhausted.

But even sports couldn't control his every waking moment, and it was to his everlasting joy and despair that girls found him attractive. He had his pick, really, and maybe because of that he chose no one.

He remembered her in science class. He watched the way light glinted off those golden strands shot with silver. Daydreaming was a dangerous occupation, however, and not just because Mr. Tindel glared at him when he lost track of the discussion. No, examining Serena Tsukino's lush hair brought on other thoughts that played havoc with his body––an embarrassment he could really have done without.

She wasn't part of the popular crowd, but the popular crowd was full of well scrubbed, bright faces and shallow dispositions that could easily disintegrate into downright meanness. The only girl in that group worth knowing was Caroline who seemed somehow impervious to the churning nastiness around her.

He hung out with Caroline and the other groupies who seemed to constantly be circling around like manic satellites, but he watched Serena Tsukino. He liked the way her eyebrows drew together when she was reading. He liked the curve of her cheekbones and the fullness of her lips. In fact, those lips drew him as much as her silver streaked hair. She rarely wore lipstick. Maybe never. But she was a Chap Stick freak and watching her slide the waxed tup over her lips was almost X-rated in Darien's mind. He remembered groaning aloud once in class and his best buddy, Andrew Hansford, had asked him what was wrong. He blamed it on exhaustion and pretended to collapse on his desk.

After that he fought even glancing Serena's way.

He thought he would get over his physical attraction. Everybody else went through women like candy, and he certainly dated a few and made out with even more. But Serena Tsukino went from being just okay, with nice hair and lips, to outstanding with long, toned legs and breasts that clothes seemed to want to hug.

Darien looked around at the other guys in his class and wondered why no one else saw it. Okay, she was still a little gawky, slower to develop than some. But he could almost watch her daily and predict what was going to happen. Beauty and unconscious sensuality were heading her way like a freight train.

The coming transformation was enough to leave him weak at the knees.

Yet she was still Serena Tsukino whose family was a source of head shaking and lip pursing to the adults. She had to be loose, he'd heard more than one old biddy pronounce. Father a drunk. Mother a weak and weary woman. No money. No family honour.

It was a wonder Serena had gotten as far as she had. For the remainder of his freshman year she circled his fantasies. Once, he seized an opportunity to talk to her. She was with her two friends, Molly and Amy, but Serena seemed disassociated from them. There was a faraway look in her eyes, a haunted yearning for something that touched as answering chord inside Darien. He approached her as she was leaving school, her two friends chattering her wake. They shut up as if someone had slammed a door in front of them as soon as Darien approached Serena.

"Hard to believe school's almost out, isn't it?" he said, mouth dry. He heard his voice as if her were an outsider and cringed. What a dork! As a pickup line it left much to be desired.

She slid him a glance. Her eyes were a baby blue beneath long, thick lashes––and they shimmered with hostility. Darien was taken aback.

"Hard to believe," she agreed coolly.

"I just meant it's gone kind of fast. Freshman year."

"Uh-huh."

He'd been frozen out by girls before. Julie Lawrence had treated him like he had the plague when he dumped her after they made out in eighth grade at Caroline's fourteenth birthday party. But Julie's kind of freeze was different; she turned up her nose when she saw him, then cried gallons of tears to her friends and made sure he knew it. She'd been kind of fun to hang out with but he'd sensed a desperation beneath her cool-girl exterior and warning bells had sounded.

At a tender age he's learned about girl's manipulations and sometime-clinging ways, but Serena Tsukino didn't fit the pattern. And so she intrigued him.

School let out for the summer and Darien spent his time surfing or bored to tears in his father's real-estate office, learning the ropes. Thoughts of Serena faded as those summer nights turned warmer. Tourists arrived, an influx of nubile girls with bodies just starting to curve. He lost his virginity the night before school started with a girl who possessed huge blue eyes and even huger breasts.

Stacey Sanderson. A transferee from Los Angeles who'd practically thrown him down in the sand and made love to him. Darien had gone through the motions, slightly detached, and then had suffered acute embarrassment and annoyance at himself. He tried to explain to her that he wasn't interested in some kind of serious relationship, but Stacey wouldn't listen. She followed him around school, waited outside the gates of his house, broke into his BMW, called him incessantly.

It was psychological hell, and Darien didn't know what to do.

Enter: Beryl. The ultimate Mother Bear.

"Who is that girl?" she demanded, while Stacey strolled along North Beach Road. "Did you give a ride? You've barely got your license. You shouldn't pick up strange girls."

"She's not a strange girl." Darien refused to talk about it with Beryl.

No problem. His mother called up the school and talked to the teachers, counsellors and principal. Then she phoned the Sandersons and they packed up and moved back to Los Angeles.

Darien thought that would be the end of it, but his first conquest called him long distance from Los Angeles three nights out of seven and started saying things like she would commit suicide if he didn't love her. Beryl grabbed the phone and warned Stacy that she would institute legal action if she didn't stop harassing her son.

Embarrassment! Humiliation! That one night of love-making became the talk of the school because Beryl made no secret of the fact that her son was wanted by the feminine gender. It was some of kind of badge of honour for her, like having him be the captain of the football team or pitcher on the baseball team.

But worse was the fact that Darien was glad Beryl had stepped in. It sure as hell made things easier. Stacey finally stopped calling. He'd wondered about her over the years and found, to his astonishment, that his mother knew all about her. She'd made it her business. To date, Stacey had married twice, born a child by each husband, and was currently fighting an alcohol problem.

Obsession. He swore to himself he would be more careful in the future. And when one night he discovered one of the most outrageous, on-the-edge senior girls in his bedroom, he nearly freaked. It was all he could do to maintain his cool and pretend the reason he wasn't interested in a little recreational sex was because mum and dad were right downstairs.

When Darien complained about the girls, his friend Andrew spoke plainly. "You've got it all, buddy. Money, looks and athletics. My dad always said it'd be a problem someday."

"Yeah, some problem," Matt snorted. "Hurt me some more." And he and Andrew both howled with laughter and envy.

Darien gave up confiding in them, but the situation nearly scared him off girls entirely. He spent most of his time hanging out with Caroline and her wholesome friends. He grew to appreciate Caroline in a way he hadn't before, and he became aware that her fondness for him was blossoming into romance and better yet, sexual desire. But his previous experience had made him cautious. Fooling around with Caroline would be prime disaster.

Wasn't there any girl who just wanted a good time, no strings attached?

He was pondering that very issue in biology class one afternoon and when the bell rang he was so turned on he could scarcely think. His flock of admirers waited outside the door but they just made him feel tired and frustrated. Any one of them could be another Stacey Sanderson.

He wanted something else, something fresh and exciting. Something to think about while he lay on his bed at night. Something to look forward to every morning and let his thoughts touch on throughout the day.

His group walked with him down the hall, chattering like magpies and grabbing at his arm and letterman's jacket, generally being a royal pain in the butt. Briefly he flirted with the idea of taking one of them to bed, but no, that was disaster in the making. He couldn't just blow them off, however; it wasn't in his nature. So, he put up with their attention.

And then he saw Serena Tsukino by her locker.

He sighed. Every time he noticed her he'd been subjected to a frigidity that could have ended global warming for all time. She clearly hated him. And she'd come out of her cocoon to zing him with some sharp remarks that had left him feeling confused and angry and certain he was missing something. This time was no different. She made some remark about the way he spoke.

What the hell was her problem, anyway? He turned to stare at her in surprise. This was the first time she'd dared to challenge him overtly. His admirers glared at her and made rude remarks, but she kept packing up her bags with unhurried regality and suddenly he wanted to crack that icy façade once and for all.

Before he had time to think, he was in front of her, crowding her space, and although a hundred comments flashed through his mind, he said only, "My dad and I are going to Pullman tomorrow to the Cougars game."

In fascination he watched the flush creep up her slim neck and burn her face. She wouldn't look at him, however, so he stayed where he was, waiting, secretly glad this moment of confrontation had arrived. He'd been longing for it, he realised then. Biding his time. Hoping for an opportunity.

The other girls faded from his sight as if they'd magically disappeared. He saw no one but Serena. Her head was dipped down, her eyes focused with studied concentration on the pile of books she'd stuffed into her bag. Eventually she half turned, lifting those clear, vulnerable eyes, to meet his gaze.

He couldn't remember the rest of the conversation. He'd accused her of always making snide remarks, or something, but all he saw and felt was her––those eyes, that pert, slightly freckled nose, that lustrous skin.

For an instant they connected. He felt it painfully, breathlessly. It startled him but he managed to keep it hidden. At least he hoped he did, but then she slammed her locker and tried to leave but the stitching on her bag gave way and books flew everywhere.

Automatically he bent to help her, his arm brushing hers. It felt like the proverbial electric current and he barely had the time to marvel at this when she jerked away, nearly overbalancing herself. So he reached out and grabbed her arm.

It seemed so perfect. He wanted her like none other and now he was holding her and, well, his own youthful cockiness rose to his rescue. He was, after all, Darien Shields, and heretofore women were as available as the air he breathed. Smiling, he simply waited for her to recognise that they had something here––chemistry or magic or just plain old sexual energy. He forgot all he reservations about getting too involved with a girl. He would sleep with her.

But Serena Tsukino didn't respond like he'd imagined. Her eyes narrowed and she slowly and deliberately pulled her arm free. For an awkward moment he expected her to say something, but she merely hung on to her bag and waited for him to leave.

"I'll try to speak better," he told her. She didn't respond, so he was forced to return to his hovering group. Confounded, he refused to look back, although it killed him to walk down the hall without her.

Months passed, the end of sophomore year came, then summer, then football season once again. Junior year and he was with Caroline. He'd gotten over that weird thing with Serena Tsukino, or so he told himself and although his antennae seemed to twitch whenever she was around, he made a pact with himself to stop thinking such dorky, romantic thoughts about her. He'd been a kid last year. Stupid and eager and somehow attracted to this girl who wasn't even in her league. Besides, all he'd wanted was sex, wasn't it? No strings attached. Serena Tsukino possessed a sexy body and time had only added to its desirability.

Enclosed in this self-protective fog, Darien wandered around clueless for weeks, certain he knew how he felt. But slowly he realised that he wasn't the only one who'd noticed Serena Tsukino's various attributes. Other guys slid her surreptitious looks, only now she slid them looks right back!

What had once been Darien's secret passion was suddenly everyone's newest crazy: Serena Tsukino, Babe Extraordinaire. He heard her name on his friends' lips. They spoke of her in terms of body parts: eyes, legs, breasts, butt. They repeated clever things she'd said to them––not the cold remarks she'd tossed his way, but nice words and compliments that made his friends' eyes glaze over when they were recounted and enjoyed anew.

Even Andrew was particularly smitten. He babbled on and on about her. About how he hoped she would take a job at Crown Fruit Parlour. About how he was working on it.

Darien could scarcely stand it. Time and time again he felt a passionate rage lick through him when some guy mentioned Serena. Andrew was bad enough, but other guys weren't as nice about it. Once Darien nearly picked a fight with Diamonde Campbell, the team's wide receiver, for making a crude remark about what he would do for Serena Tsukino when he got her into bed. Bets were placed on when that would be.

Darien ground his teeth and reminded himself that he didn't give a hot damn about any of it.

Homecoming came and Darien threw a dozen passes into Diamonde's waiting hands. They were an awesome team on the field, making mincemeat of the other team and showing up the lazy seniors who were big on bragging but small on talent. Off the field Darien and Diamonde couldn't stand each other, however, and that was a battle that had begun long before Serena Tsukino.

Still, for that night they slapped palms like old friends and grinned deliriously at their success. It was great to be on top. To be the best of the best. To be Darien Shields, all-star quarterback.

He went to the homecoming dance warm with satisfaction. People paid court to him, and he ate it up like any other teenager who was the centre of attention. But somewhere during the evening he realised he felt vaguely dissatisfied. Checking around inside himself. He couldn't come up with an answer to his problem. Here he was with the brunette, popular Caroline Newsmith on his arm, his buddies, Andrew Hansford and Matt Dalton, hanging nearby, and Diamonde Campbell, his worst rival, a friend for tonight at least, as they basked in their shared triumph.

It should have been perfect.

"Hey," Caroline whispered, reading his mood. "You were great tonight."

"Yeah?" He tried to pay attention. She smelled good, her hair shining rich chocolate beneath coloured lights. Inhaling deeply, he wondered with a certain amount of alarm why she didn't stir his blood. Maybe it was a good thing. Sexual involvement with Caroline would be a major problem. She just wasn't that kind of girl.

But why not? Why not feel just a little healthy lust?

"I swear I'm hoarse from cheering," Caroline continued, resting her head on his shoulder. "Did you hear us? Susan and I were screaming at the top of our lungs and some older people told us to quiet down. We didn't, of course." She giggled. This was the height of true rebellion for Caroline.

Darien dragged her closer until the contours of her body melded to his. Inside, his own rebellion seemed to be heating up, burning like molten steel. He hadn't slept with a girl since Stacey, and he was beginning to feel angry and frustrated.

He thought, I want a bad girl…

Caroline squirmed at the pressure, but she tried not to let him know. Instantly he eased up, mad at himself. Just as instantly she relaxed against him again, peering at him sideways, searching his expression.

"You want to leave?" he asked abruptly. "This is so boring."

"I'd kind of like to stay." Her brows knit in confusion. She was totally at sea about his feelings and that bugged Darien too.

"Well, I'm going. I can drop you off, or somebody'll take you home."

"I can catch a ride with Susan," she responded frostily, and although Darien should have felt remorse, he was too anxious to feel much of anything but relief.

He drove for house, the car window down so that the bite of fall air cleared his head, the radio up so that music throbbed and deafened. He circled Crescent Bay in erratic loops, passing by all the hangouts, consumed with an urgency that was almost violent. For the first time in his life, he wanted to drink and fight and indulge in meaningless sex and damn the consequences. He yearned for relief from this nameless demon that rode him.

What the hell was the matter with him?

With a screech of tires he pulled into a viewing sport at the end of Mariner Lane, at the edge of the beach. Tearing off his letterman's jacket, shoes and socks, he tromped down to the ocean and let the water numb his feet and ankles. Flinging himself into the surf nearly stopped his heart; the water was glacial. Dragging in a choked breath, he didn't back down. It was as if he were on some nameless, self-destructive mission, like lemmings throwing themselves into the sea.

He bobbed aimlessly, sometimes floating like a dead man, eyes opened to a black cold sky; sometime swimming against the tide until his arms felt like lead weights and his breath rasped in his throat. The sky had few stars dusted in it, but the moon clearly shone through the city's light pollution. It somewhat calmed the inner turmoil within Darien, but he could still feel that yearning for something, lurking, for now, subdued by the frozenness of the waters.

He was so cold by the time he fought his way back to the beach he could scarcely stand. His own foolishness finally penetrated his dull brain, and he marvelled that he could have tempted fate this far. Was he trying to kill himself? No. Was he stupid enough to put his life at risk because he felt frustrated and disconnected and unhappy? Yes, apparently.

At the car, he couldn't manage getting the key into the lock. His fingers were yellow-white with cold and whole body shivered uncontrollably as if it were in its last death throes. He couldn't move his lips even to swear; his jaw was frozen half-open. Unable to perform this one tiny task that would save him from freezing, he wondered if he would actually die of exposure outside his BMW, his key in his hands.

At first he didn't feel her presence; he was way too immersed in more physical problems. But suddenly she was there, her coat flapping against her legs, her hair lifted by the wind and moving seductively against her shoulders like sea foam. He stared at her like the village idiot, unable to move, speak or think.

"You went swimming," she observed. "Probably not the choice I would have made on a night like tonight."

His teeth chattered in response. The keys rattled in his palsied hand.

Serena hesitated for the length of one heartbeat, her brows drawn together in alarm and understanding. Extracting the keys, she made short work of the lock but when Darien couldn't climb inside, she put her arm around his waist and half hoisted him onto the seat.

"What in God's name were you doing out there?" she demanded, puffing from exertion. Her luminous eyes caught a glancing beam of moonlight. Darien felt faint and light-headed and wondered if he was going to pass out.

"Do you need someone to drive you?" she demanded.

He shook his head. Fine, bright lights seemed to dazzle his eyes.

"Are you certain?"

Darien fought his shivering but hypothermia had grabbed him in a death grip. He was going under and part of him didn't care.

He didn't feel the slap; numbness overrode everything. But he was suddenly blinking and awake, and Serena's open palm explained it all. He thought she might hit him again, but when he looked her way, she ordered, "Stay awake, Darien, do you understand?"

Oh, he understood. He was in big trouble. He nodded.

"You've got to stay awake."

"Okay," he mumbled, but it was just a whoosh of sound from his lungs that didn't form words.

"Move over," she commanded, pushing him until he fell over the gearshift and against the passenger door. He felt so brittle he thought he might break into a million pieces. Climbing behind the wheel, she stated calmly, "I don't have my license, but I figure this is something of an emergency."

With that she twisted the ignition and with a cautious expertise that Darien appreciated much later when he was finally warm and safe again, she drove him home. She made noise about taking him to the nearest hospital, but he adamantly refused and so she drove him up the hill to what she referred to as Shields Manor.

The house was dark; his parents were in bed before ten every night. Serena helped him from the car, through the gates and back door into the kitchen.

He fumbled with his clothes. There was no hope for it. Serena hovered by the door, wanting to bolt, but he heard her mutter something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like a string of obscenities, and then she was helping him while he stood by, passive as a sleeping baby.

She undid his belt and dropped his wet jeans to the floor. His boxers were plastered to his legs. She pulled his shirt and undershirt over his head in one swoop, then said calmly, "You need a shower or a bath or something."

He shuffled down the hall, and Serena followed slowly behind, unwilling, he supposed, to abandon her patient until she was completely assured he would live. He was glad she was there. He needed someone, and he realised vaguely that he needed someone all night. There was a guest room and bathroom––more like a maid's quarters really––beneath his own wing of rooms. He led the way, Serena behind him. The shower had been redone in a curve of translucent glass brick and Serena briskly turned the taps. A rush of hot, moist air filled the room.

A moment later, she said, "I'm going to leave it on the barely warm side or you won't be able to stand it."

Darien was hardly in a position to argue even if he wanted to. Still numb, he hobbled into the shower with his boxers on. Through the glass he could see her wavy form move toward the door. "Wait!" he croaked out.

She stopped. Silently. Darien's gaze stayed on the distorted colours that were Serena as the heat from the shower hurt his frozen feet and limbs. It seemed as if the water were boiling hot until his flesh began to warm and he realised the shower was barely lukewarm. Slowly he turned up the hot tap, but it seemed like hours before he felt his blood heat. The whole time, his gaze stayed glued to Serena who hung by the door as if waiting for someone to open it from the other side and free her. Darien chafed at the delay. What if she left too soon? He didn't want her to leave. He wanted her here, with him; and with growing insight, he realised that she was what he'd been waiting for all night.

Eventually he stepped from the shower. She still hovered by the door, looking oddly scared now, although earlier she'd been in such maximum control. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his waist and wished he could peel the wet boxers off without spooking her into running like a deer.

That was what she looked like––a scared fawn. Gone was the steel-voiced woman who acted with such cool determination. This was a new, vulnerable Serena, and he could tell by the way her lips pursed that she didn't like it one bit.

"Thanks," he said, wiping wet hair from his face. He was glad his voice was back.

She nodded. "You probably would have frozen to death if I hadn't come along."

"No kidding. I must have been out of my mind."

"It looked that way."

He snorted in agreement. Now that the initial crisis was over he felt like a moron. God, what did she think? He practically owed her his life.

"What possessed you to go swimming in the ocean tonight? I mean, what's the water temperature? Fourty degrees? Are you crazy?"

"Yeah…" He half laughed. "I guess I am."

"Do you have some kind of death wish?"

"Not usually."

"Was this some kind of macho dare?" she asked her starch returning.

"No, I was just thinking that wanted to get away from everything."

"Rather drastic measures."

"Hey, it wasn't a suicide attempt, if that's what you're thinking. I just wanted everything––to stop"

The words came from somewhere inside himself. What had been eating at him all day, all week, maybe all year, suddenly seemed so clear.

"Thanks for saving me," he said quietly.

"Oh…no." She shrugged that off, embarrassed. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Don't tell anybody, all right?" He half smiled. "They wouldn't understand."

"Who would I tell?"

"Your friends."

"I don't have those kind of friends," she without rancour.

"Neither do I," he said, because it was the truth. He didn't have the kind of friends he could really trust. But he didn't see how Serena could take it. However, Darien didn't realise how condescending he might sound until Serena's face flushed pink and hey eyes glittered.

"Oh excuse me. Darien Shields doesn't have any friends. I didn't realise that."

"I didn't say that."

"Yeah?" she arched one disbelieving eyebrow.

"I said I don't have those kinds of friends. That's what you said, and I agreed with you. That's all."

"What about Andrew Hansford? Matt Dalton?"

"Look I just said––"

"Don't feel sorry for me, okay? I can handle myself. I don't need you telling me you understand my problems, or that you can feel what I feel. You don't have a clue!"

"Hey." He lifted his hands in surrender. "Stop being so defensive. I guess I made a mistake. Sorry. I didn't mean it that way."

Silence pooled between them. He was truly baffled by her prickliness. Okay, so she hadn't been born with a silver spoon stuck firmly between her teeth like he had. Big deal. Some people were just born with inner class and she was one of them. He could appreciate that. Too bad she couldn't.

"I've gotta go," she said abruptly.

"Wait."

This time he put his hand on her wrist. That was a mistake because he could feel her recoil from his touch. But it was a mistake he was glad he'd made because he wanted to touch her, and he was also glad in a perverse sort of way that his touch affected her.

"What are you doing?" she demanded suspiciously as he leaned toward her.

"I don't know," he admitted honestly. He was just reacting. Reacting to a long, hard night and a brush with death that had made him light-headed.

She was rigid as steel but warm. She'd tried to freeze him out so many times he'd half believed she was made of ice. But her skin was smooth, supple and hot beneath his hand and because he wasn't thinking quite clearly, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her full on the mouth.

If she'd truly believed he was going to kiss her she would have pulled away; she told him that later when they could laugh about it. But at that moment she was so stunned that he'd actually dragged her into his arms that her lips were parted on a gasp of disbelief. The feel of her half-open mouth was an invitation. Darien thrust his tongue inside its heat and groaned with desire.

And she bit down with all she was worth.

"Goddammit!" he howled, shoving her away from him. He could taste blood.

"You bastard," she whispered. "Touch me again and I'll kill you."

And then she was gone. Darien was left to nurse his injury and thank his lucky stars that she hadn't tried to bite off his tongue in earnest. In reality, it was a minor wound.

Later, lying in bed, reviewing the scene, he was embarrassed at his strange and inappropriate boldness. For a moment he'd believed she was his, that she wanted him. For a moment there'd been no question. For a moment…

With a groan, he shoved his head under the pillow and vowed to forget her, but even as he made the pledge, he knew it possessed no strength.

He was going to do his damnedest to have Serena Tsukino. She was the one and only thing he'd wanted in a long, long time.

Now, Darien blinked awake like a sleep walker. The waves still roiled toward shore outside his windows and the piece of paper with Caroline's hotel number still lay in his hand. Only he'd crumpled it into a minuscule ball.

Emotion sang through him. So long ago yet so powerful. It could have been yesterday. First loves were impossible to forget, but he wondered if others still felt them as keenly as he sometimes did. It bothered him a bit. What if this was some irreparable flaw in his character that would haunt him forever?

A moment later he chuckled. Then he threw back his head and laughed. Good grief, he was going mad! So Serena Tsukino had materialised in Crescent Bay. So what? It wasn't like she had the power to turn his life inside out again. That was a symptom of his teens years, and he'd been cured of this illness long ago.

No, as far as he was concerned. There was nothing Serena Tsukino could do or say that would make any different to him now. There were no ties between them, apart from a few bittersweet memories.

With a renewed sense of control he picked up the phone to call Caroline.

So...What do you think?

Review and tell me your opinions! Honesty is the preferred method.

A bit long yeah, I know. I wanted to fit Darien's flashback in one chapter instead of dragging it over 2 chapters.

I will try to update soon, maybe in a week or so?

*~*Adieu*~*