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A Card Captor Sakura Fan Fiction
"Heiresses Have No Fairytale Endings"
By Bloody Priestess
Summary: With the disclosure of her arranged marriage, fashion designer Tomoyo's fairytale dream to fall in love shatters… And meeting the mysterious Eriol Hiiragizawa in her self-imposed exile to Singapore, she finds herself picking up the shattered pieces…
Author's Note: (1) Hello there, my dear readers... Has it really been a year plus since I last updated? Ohhh, anyway… Welcome back~! There's a bit of smut here. Yes! Finally, the M-rating shall be now justified. (2) Here's a little guide for you: read the time/date carefully.
Uhmm... Finally! Here is chapter 4! Ü
Chapter Four: Wishin' and Hopin'
"That won't get you into his heart..."
1:13 a.m., Tuesday
She peeled off the constricting black lace shirt she wore over her dress and threw garment on the empty seat like a gauntlet. She tossed bespectacled man one last contemptuous glance before mounting the elevated platform which served as the lounge's stage. She was going to show him! She is still in control of her person, by Jove! The heiress walked purposely across the platform where the band was, and positioned herself on center stage.
Eriol, knowing that he could save her an embarrassing scene by playing along, hasten to the piano. Just as Tomoyo counted herself into a beat by rhythmically snapping her fingers...
An unsuspecting on-looker would think that this lovely lady was none other than the lounge's singer. With a careful, covert eye he kept on Reed's intended all though out the last hour, Eriol know for a fact that Tomoyo Daidouji was now soundly intoxicated. Damn, Eriol thought, she can be quite a baggage! In this state, she doesn't even bother to sheathe her claws... But for some reason, this did not displease him as much as he thought it would.
Tomoyo lifted her chin and propped her hand on her waist. She was not going to back down, despite this "infirmity". She was here to prove to them that she was still here and able. Well, I am taking charge, no more, no more. And here to weather out whatever life, in general, has dealt her!
The stage lights bathed her lovely, pale skin in an almost ethereal glow.
She looked up from the floor to the audience in the old style of the early Hollywood classic movies' with a beguiling expression.
"Wishin', and hopin',"
The band, perplexed for a moment glanced at one another, resignedly they started to join in.
"And thinkin', and prayin',"
Some people's drinks stopped mid-way to their mouths as they watched the young lady singer and her delightful rendition a familiar song. She had unique spin to the song with her appealingly light, melodic voice.
"Planning and dreamin' each night of his chaaarms."
She leaned vintage microphone and stand to a precarious angle as she classily tipped her body did the same as she held the last note...
"That won't get you into his arms..."
Alerted, he was half an inch off his seat from the piano, when Tomoyo sharply righted herself and mischievously winked at him.
"So if you're looking for love you can share,"
Relaxing a bit, Eriol sat back down. Partly amused, partly goaded, he pounded his fingers into the next string of ivory keys and she continued to sing...
"All you gotta to is hold him,"
In a timeless, graceful movement Tomoyo wrapped her arms around her and whirled captivatingly.
"And kiss him..."
In time with the line, she blew a kiss to the audience... Not too coy, but the action did definitely create a rippling effect, most notably on the male audience.
"And love him,
And show him that you care."
The girl's a really something, Eriol thought. After that little spectacle with the four men (he could not help but watch and admire how she 'took care' of herself), then that whole business of drinking herself to a tipsy state (he wasn't too proud of this) and passing out (he sweat dropped)—she sat right back up and insisted to get on the stage to sing, Wishin' and Hopin'.
Tomoyo sashayed around the stage, appealingly dragging the mic stand with her in a manner that reminded him of those old Hollywood films and "the innocence" of burlesque.
"Show him that you care, just for him.
Do the things that he likes to do."
Tomoyo was now singing pointedly to a pretty, young brunette dressed in pale olive, frilly baby-doll dress with fashionable black tights, who just came in sometime in the middle of her 'performance'. The Miss took the table in the front row with her date.
Tomoyo sang to her: "Wear your hair just for him, 'cause,"
The heiress tossed her long, raven hair with flourish and waved an index finger at the brunette, like she would admonishingly advice a dear friend while the other hand graced down the length of the mic's stem in rather unconsciously sensual motion. Eriol's eyes smothered.
"You won't get him, thinkin' and a prayin',
Wishin' and hopin'."
The young woman in the pale olive dress smiled, raising her drink to Tomoyo. The Miss nodded in a half-serious, half-joke-indulging manner to the heiress. And the singer beamed.
''Cause wishin', and hopin', and thinkin', and prayin',"
Tomoyo made a series of charming dramatic faces for each of the previous line—a beseeching countenance, a hopeful air, a thoughtful face, a dreamy look...
"Planning and dreamin'," At the end of that prolonged note, "His kisses will staaart." Tomoyo wiped off that dreamy look on her face and distinctly glanced at Eriol— "That won't get you into his heart!"
Eriol, confident with his mastery of the ebony and ivory keys of his piano, was ogling her almost missed a note. He gawkily tried to cover it up.
Tomoyo saw that and smiled smugly at him.
"So if you're thinking how great true love is
All you gotta to is hold him, and kiss him, and squeeze him, and love him."
"Yeah, just do it!
And after you do, you will be his."
She turned to her audience. Thus, unable to see her piano player trying to get his face back to its natural color. Unfortunately for Eriol, the audience did~ And they smiled knowingly at the adorable display of 'boyishness' by the serious-looking, bespectacled young man on the piano.
"You gotta show him that you care just for him.
Do the things that he likes to do.
Wear your hair just for him, 'cause,"
It was clear that the audience were captivated with her performance. On that stage, she had an unaffected allure which was sweet and sassy. The audience found her positively brilliant.
For the lines that followed, Tomoyo lowered her voice to a near whisper. And, she had the people visibly leaning forward, eager to hear what she had to say.
"You won't get him, thinkin' and a prayin',
Wishin' and a hopin'."
Tomoyo was a real artiste. Eriol thought. On stage, she had presence... it was NOT an immediate and commanding presence. But something in the way she rolled her dark eyes at a clever line and the sweeping movement of her trim arms when she emphasized a point that caught and held one's attention and actually made people care what she was saying.
"'Cause wishin', and hopin', and thinkin', and prayin',"
That, Eriol thought, will make her quite valuable to Reed Publishing and Advertising Co. She could be the "voice" and face of the company. With her splendid PR-relations, the possibilities were limitless.
"Planning and dreamin' his kisses will start.
That won't get you into his heart!"
"Reed would like that." Broad shoulders tensed involuntarily, "Reed would like that very much."
"So if you're thinking how great true love is!
All you gotta to is hold him, and kiss him, and squeeze him, and love him."
Thinking like the heir, the young man's thoughts were of the pro's and con's of the match... Something, he knew, the heir would very much like to hear of.
"Yeah, just do it!
And after you do, you will be his."
Sapphire blue eyes settled on the Daidouji heiress, his attraction to her was palpable. With her most recent lines echoing in his head, he whispered most dangerously, "A challenge, angel?"
"You will be his.
You will be his ~ !"
A corner of this mouth curled slightly. All right then. Bet on it, love... for it will prove to be extremely profitable for both.
8:54 a.m., Tuesday
Sunlight steamed through the small cease of the heavy, drawn curtain and slanted its concentrated rays down unto her face—forcibly clutching her away from sweet slumber... In retaliation to the offending light that did nothing but its job of announcing that it was time to awaken, Tomoyo sleepily pulled the deliciously body-warm, heavy comforters over her head upon rolling to her side. Then, burying her face into a soft, fluffy pillow, she tried to relax and find her place back in Sleeps arms...
But something was not quite right...
Slowly, she was becoming aware that her current pillow had a certain spicy, masculine scent to it and NOT the vanilla scent of her shampoo that Tomoyo vividly remembered clinged to it just the night before when she last laid upon it. Sleepy blue-violet eyes snapped opened to the sight of the bedside table... but instead of seeing beautifully arranged white lilies, blue-violet Japanese Irises and exotic yellow orchids in crystal class vase on it—there lay, instead a rather scholarly leather-bound book.
She was wide awake now. "Heavens!" Tomoyo shot up from the bed... which she shouldn't have! For her still-marred head protested by pounding hard against its confines most excruciatingly. This what you get when you don't eat AND drink heavily.
Tomoyo brought her legs up to her chest and rested her head on her drawn knees to steady the nauseating shifting line of vision. What in the world. That is… if this is still earth!
And as if she was not already horrified upon realizing that she had spent the night in someone else's hotel room—the bathrobe that she (somehow) change into slid off her shoulders and settled below her bosom and elbows revealing her in a strapless lacy crème Victoria's Secret number.
Where were her clothes? "Heavens!" She repeated, yanking the robe over her exposed shoulders. Clearly, she knew very little profanities.
Her head pounded painfully against her skull. But she needed to think and assess her situation, or die trying! With her mouth dry, her eyes darted about the room. It was a pleasant affair. A deluxe single room, with a queen-sized bed and the other amenities of a hotel room—a handsome wicker recliner (slept in, A good sign, she decided) with matching table set near the drawn curtain that if opened would lead to a sliding glass door bring one to the small balcony.
Seeing the Carrion-Whitmore Park Hotel emblem on the complementary stationery pad on the desk, it was safe to assume she has not been kidnapped and carried off to some desolate place... She was still within the hotel premises but the question is...
Whose room is thi—?
The doorbell tinged, distracting her. Despite the new shot of pain to her already-throbbing head, Tomoyo pulled the robe over her shoulders and headed for the door. After checking through the peephole, she opened the door for the hotel employee with a trolley filled with —obviously, breakfast underneath that overturned silver covering.
She followed the man in. Her cheeks burning as if they were on fire, realizing what this (she unconsciously gripped her robe's neckline tightly) must look like... Setting the trolley by the coffee table, Tomoyo noticed again that the two settees were facing each other in such a manner that it was made into a makeshift-bed the help, lifted the lid with a flourish.
"Here we are, miss— a—"
Tomoyo paled as the prepared food's aroma filled the room. Her stomach did a complete 360 and a rather putrid taste traveled upward from her churning stomach and up her throat. She cupped a hand over her mouth and bolted for a closed door she assumed to be the bathroom—but before she could reach the knob, the door swung backward—and in the opposite side stood a fresh-from-the-shower Eriol in a white towel around his waist.
"Angel?"
She had no time to admire the magnificent male aesthetics that stood in display at the bathroom's threshold and that towel. Tomoyo ungainly brushed past him before practically hurling herself to the marble floor before the toilet. She flipped her wrist at him— in a gesture to pardon her as she bowed her head and retched.
Eriol wiped the disparaging look from the observing hotel employee with a curt nod which the later took as a dismissal. Stooping beside Tomoyo, he drew her long tresses away from her face and gently rubbed her back as tremors of nausea hit her again and again.
With her face adverted, she thanked him and then asked, "Can you please leave spare me some time to compose myself and gather what's left of my dignity?"
Eriol nodded, struggling not to unashamedly gawk at the lovely pale skin of her legs tucked underneath her. "Come have breakfast when you're though, alright love?" He said and closed the door behind him soundly as he tried to assure himself that the physical distance would be enough.
It had to! Blast it... it's not even 9 o'clock in the morning and you're already thinking about... Eriol threw his hands in the air, somewhat frustrated before her got up and practically jogged out the door.
After cleaning up after herself, Tomoyo propped herself on the counter and rinsed her mouth and splashed some water onto her face. She searched and found an extra hotel complementary toothbrush and toothpaste and began brushing furiously.
"You brought this upon yourself, you know?" She rolled her eyes at the young woman in the mirror. "There's nothing more you can about what occurred… You can no longer take back what you have done to make Eriol and anyone for that matter think of you so lowly. After all, whatever your actions were last night was, without a doubt, shamefully abominable! What you CAN do, is control what will occur from this moment on. You behaved abominably, Tomoyo. And that is the reason you deserve to feel and bear this shame uncomplainingly."
She brushed her teeth with a vengeance, before spitting unto the black-marbled sink. The heiress straightened, and then starkly met her own eyes on her reflection, "What you need to do now is redeem yourself. From here on out, you will conduct yourself appropriately—as you have been taught. You may not like it... but, shame is shame. You must be now... Cool, polite, detached."
Her spine straightened, her chin angled determinedly—she ripped the door from its frame and purposefully strode right into Eriol bare back. He was already in his worn jeans, Tomoyo tried not to be so apparent in closing her mouth after it had involuntarily dropped at the sight of his torso of rippling muscle and sinew.
"Whoa, girl!"
Tomoyo too stunned at his remark that it did not even register in her conscious, stimulus-overloaded brain to protest to his indecent exposure. "First, you likened me to a dog... now, a horse! What next? A LION? Goodness! I am a woman! Not some silly animal!"
Belatedly, she thought. So much for… 'Cool, polite and detached'.
Eriol recalled the quip: I am a woman, hear me roar. His smile deepened, and with it, the flare of something hungry in his eyes. "Well, with the way you're roaring—you could have fooled me, angel-face."
"How dare you!" She began but when Eriol countered by menacingly stepped forward and she backed and backed in effort to escape him.
Bracing a hand on the wall beside her head, he caged her between his warm body and the cool wall. "Dare?" Eriol began strangely, his head bent down to her upturned face, "No, angel. Not… yet."
He was too close. Eriol radiated sheer amount of male sensuality was making Tomoyo inwardly shiver with... could it be? Pleasure. And then, a memory — Muddled it may be, it was a memory nonetheless, of something similar to this burned to her mind and heated her cheeks.
1:22 a.m., Tuesday
She shouldn't have done that.
That last drink Tomoyo fetched from the young brunette in the pale olive-green dress was the final straw; for after draining the said drink, her knees gave way.
Eriol was off his seat before he realized what he was doing. He gathered her plummeting body into his arms and steadied her to her feet. She 'stood' next to him with her head bowed as if in modesty at their applause.
To the audience, he smoothly said. "Thank you for your kind attention, ladies and gentlemen. Please enjoy the rest of the evening with Martin Kesse's Jazz and Blues band." The band leader— stepped forward and resumed his post on center stage.
I'll explain later. Eriol mouthed to Martin, the bandleader as he assisted Tomoyo to her feet.
Firmly, he said breathed into her ear. "I believe it is time for you to retire, miss."
"Retire?" Tomoyo pulled back from the security of his 'embrace'. "I'm only twenty-one! A true woman of the world, I most certainly am NOT!" She flailed her arms in exasperation. "And what is this? You TOO? You want me to retire? Retire from what, Hiiragizawa? I barely lived my life."
The indirect reference to her 'maiden' status sent the bolt of feral need and pain old lust through him. Eriol swallowed and kept his tone passive. And so he managed to say pacifying, "Miss Daidouji, I believe you have had enough... I'll take you back—"
"...oh no, you don't! You're not taking me anywhere! I won't let you push me to things I don't approve of! I won't let you not without a fight, buster! Besides, who do you think you are to me? Ahh. 'Tis silence, I hear. So... Do not tell me what to do!" She tenaciously protested.
They both knew that it was merely the liquor bring her to such an abrasive temper... if she was sober she knew she would diplomatically hold her tongue and act "as expected". But, she had to admit or else she'd be lying, getting the chance to say what you really want to say is quite... liberating!
"Very well then, I will not tell you. I will make you act." Eriol hid an amused smile as he seized her arm and purposefully guided her out the lounge, into the vacant hallway and they kept on walking.
Tomoyo grumbled inebriatedly but mimed his pace. "Well, I never been—"
"Oh," Eriol quipped, playfully sarcastic. "So, that explains why you behaved so inanely. You've never been rein in!"
He is absolutely right. Tomoyo thought doggedly. Quite livid that he should point that out because it meant she had to face the facts... now. Mother always gave me freedom to do as I wish. And I've always been so sensible. Most of the time, we compromised—met in the middle and the like. This is betrothal business is the only thing I had no chance to exercise my privilege as citizen of the world. He was dead-on. "I have nothing more to say to you, sir." The truth, generally damages the ego the most.
"Good." He replied good-humoredly, undeterred. "Now you have more opportunity to take action instead of talking too much."
Tomoyo started to open your mouth to rebuke but immediately closed it, refusing to prove him right. She said nothing as she haughtily jutted her chin in the air. He continued to guide her along and finally to the where the elevator access was, barely managing to keep his amused face neutral.
"So… you're a singer, huh?" He began, after lighting the elevator's Up-button.
"Yes, I sing—if that's what you mean to ask."
The elevators' polished silver-hued doors swung open. Eriol laughed derisively. "Ask? It was more of a statement than an inquiry." He gestured to the open doors. "After you, miss."
"Well," Tomoyo drew herself upright as she strode inside like a proud queen into the enclosed opera box. Resisting the childish urge to jab the Close button in his face, she stated instead. "Forgive me for poorly phrasing my reply. You see, Mr. Hiiragizawa, such ghastly responses results only from pitiable initial exchange."
"Stating a slightly modified Law of Physics, I see." Eriol noted, while the metal doors shut behind him.
Mischief and liquor made her eyes light up. Tomoyo recalled about all those male acquaintances she encountered in the past that were positively annoyed with an intellectual female. That'll show him! Then maybe he'd go away... and stop prompting questions about mother and, indirectly, to this marriage-business that I don't want to face right this moment! By heavens, she had a moment to feel so free and unbound by the persistent decisions to be made—she intended to keep it a while longer.
"Newton's Law of Interaction: an equal but opposite force exerted by a body when a force acts upon it! Simply put, Every action results to an equal opposite reaction!" She declared knowledgeably. It has been her experience, thus became a known fact that most men were put-off with intelligence in a woman.
"Why, Miss Daidouji…" Eriol's voice was deep and husky with meaning.
The wicked flash in his dark eyes finally penetrated into her liquor-sodden brain and an alarm went off in her head. Tomoyo tried to fight off the creeping uncomfortable turn of his boldness by aligning herself against the closed doors—she knew that once she'll reach her floor, she'll be the first one out.
"Is that a dare?" He brushed a lock hair off her upturned face. Tomoyo moistened her dry lips. Why does she have a strong feeling that he does not fall of the 'most men' category?
Tomoyo did not allow herself to react even as he propped his hands on a position above her head and leaned ominously down to her five-seven height from his own six-one feet. And her subtle retreat was blocked off with the elevators doors behind her back. "I like to see you try, Eriol."
Eriol's eyes smothered, he purposely ignored the sarcasm in her tone. "With pleasure."
The sharp taste of liquor in her lips was sharper than he expected, he was fairly surprised. Eriol decided that he liked it. His tongue lightly traced the upturned corner of the side of her mouth. Her lips soften and began to move with his, stimulating the the desire flaming between them. And for some absurd reason, Eriol thought himself to be intoxicated as she. Only that… she was his heady wine. He tilted his head and gently nibbled her lower lip, tasting her resistance slowly crumbling away. His conscience told him to stop this at once—not only was this girl helpless, she was also off-limits.
It was the latter thought that made him want her more. Although every inch of his starved body screamed for her, he told himself not to roughen his kissing… any… more. But his hardened body was telling a different story—he ground the lower half of his toned, eager body to hers, letting her feel him.
His achingly aggressive motion to sent her skin on fire. A flash of awareness lit and widen her eyes.
The suggestive contact made her half sigh, half moan into his right ear. And sound was utterly erotic, but what really broke his control was when she grabbed the lapels of his dark suit, roughly pulled him to her. A long, slim, milky white leg wrapped around his waist locking him in place to her arched body.
He yanked the spectacles off his face and tossed them to the opposite corner of the elevator. "Bloody hell." He groaned pleasurably, hands deftly slid to and fro at her the wonderful womanly curves of her sides, her spine and finally down to garb her lush bottom. He could tell that all this was possible because of the liquor in her system... it made her inhibited. Tomoyo Daidouji has always been a good, sensible, well-bred young woman.
He liked this rather uninhibited woman too.
After following her for these past few days. And learning about her life, education, family and friends gave him an understanding that Miss Daidouji (she never even bothered to personally give him her name) was NOT 'that' type of girl who shacked up with mysterious men— Even if, ehem, he was extremely desirable.
Tomoyo's hands wandered. They experimentally traced the powerful lines of his shoulders before finally entwining themselves around his neck. When Eriol mouth left her lips to nudge the sensitive area where her neck and shoulders met with the tip of his aquiline nose, her long fingered hands unconsciously shoved themselves into his dark hair and began deliciously kneading the strands on his nape.
That was the last straw. A hand slid languorously down from her toned shoulders, past the soft mounds of her breasts, the curve of her trim waist, before he scooped the back of her other leg's knee. With both her legs around his flank and against his obvious , he backed her hard against the elevator's closed doors.
"E-Eriol."
He silenced her with his parted mouth. Finding her already parted for him set a surge of electricity to all his extremities. His fingers tightening on the flimsy material of her dress' hem, pulling slowly, deliberately and agonizingly slow up her thighs... His hot breath on her throat forced her to match his breathing, his steadily quickening pants.
He was engrossed in parrying with her soft tongue that he did not notice his shirt coming loose from its tuck-in his pants until she lightly touched her hands to his bare skin of his tampered back. Eriol burned.
Never in a million years, Eriol would have guessed that she would respond this way— So sweet, so uninhibited, so... Her lips parted beneath his and unknowingly admitted his tongue to the warm, liquor-flavored recess of her mouth. Heaven help him... She was so naively seductive. It almost made him guilty of the charade he was playing on her for Reed. 'Almost' guilty. If he was to lose this opportunity... He could not think of a better compensation than... this. A small sample. And he would only take as good as she gives...
He kissed her, her lips parted; his tongue slipped between them for on sweet taste, then withdrew... then hungrily, urgently, plunged again and again. And then, it was out of control...
Suddenly, the wall that they have been leaning on for support gave away and the pair of them fall through. Eriol reacted instantly, he cupped the back of her head a split second before they landed half on the elevator's interior and to the carpet floor.
Seventh Floor. A cool voice announced. Eriol gently laid her head before popping to his elbows. The distance between their overheated bodies brought back some of Hiragizawa's ability to think properly. Sapphire blue eyes avoided her face in that passion glazed expression. And most of all, the manner she was unintentionally sprawled in that inviting spread beneath him.
Interruptions! Interruptions! Eriol thought wryly, very disappointed for his lack of control and how his mind immediately leaped to rationalizations to justify his actions while he was still warm and heady. Why does this always happen to me? Gods, help this girl... for once I have a taste of something I like...
Eriol could not help himself. He smiled like the devil himself.
9:11 a.m, Tuesday
Tomoyo eyes widen beautifully as the memory dawned on her. A thousand words of protest and indignation leaped to her lips but immediately checked the impulse. She knew that nothing happened between them... save for that scene in the elevator. The tell-tale signs were in the room (his make-shift bed, for instance). But that was all.
...redeem yourself. From here on out, you will conduct yourself appropriately—as you have been taught. Cool, polite, detached. She had told herself.
Tomoyo mulled the thought over. Losing her temper at the loss of her 'face', will not help redeem what has already been lost. A cool smile tugged the corners of her mouth as she lifted her eyes to his amused, mocking ones. "Thank you for rescuing me, Mr. Hiragizawa." She will not allow the huskiness quality of his chuckle distract her and continued, "I know I could not have made it through the night if you did not take me in."
"Tomo—"
She cut him off, afraid that she would lose her resolve if he would try to appease her in this state of 'distraught'. "I'd like also like to apologize for being such an inconvenience to you. I realize that it is not your job to take care of me. And for that, I am sorry."
"Believe me, miss. It was no trouble at all, so there really is no need to apologize. Matter of fact," His turned and poured a steaming cup of something from a tea pot brought along the breakfast trolley. "I consider it was my 'good deed of the day'." He handed the cup to her.
She took a sip of the steaming brew. The warm milk settled wonderfully in her empty stomach.
Reading her expression correctly, he selected a bland slice of wheat bread on a small dish and offered to her. Feeling heaps better after a nibble or two, she flashed him a genuine, grateful smile. "Oh, I see. How noble of you. In that case, I'll thank you again... for watching over me."
Eriol paced to a small closet, where he took out a freshly laundered and pressed outfit that Tomoyo recognized as the one she wore last night/dawn. Wordlessly, he handed it to her. She tried not to ponder the possible scenarios that warranted him to send her clothes to the laundromat, It was too humiliating to even contemplate. She suddenly felt doubtful that she could never live last night down and keep up this whole 'Cool, polite, detached' scheme she planned.
He seemed oblivious enough as he shoved his arms into a gray knitted turtleneck and pulled the garment over his head. She thought she heard him say, "It's my job. That's all."
Her smile did not falter... but she thought rather sadly. "How impersonal".
Little did she know, that prompted her set her heart against him.
End of Chapter Four
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Author's Notes: Finally got that one out! Whef! My first really smutty-ish chapter... Please be nice... And, and... Almost six thousand plus words! Haha, this is the longest chapter in Heiress Have No Fairytale Endings to date! Ü
(1) Thank you for your limitless patience in waiting for this chapter to be posted!.
(2) Did anyone get confused with the whole "time/date" thing to tell which scene went first, second, etc. ? I was experimenting on the concept, you see. I hope it was all right.
(3) Feedbacks, please... Do drop me a line. Tell me what you think, where I went wrong, where I did not explain too well, et cetera (be specific, a'ght?)…
Until the next chapter, you guys… See (or read) yah! Ü
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