"So I sneak out to the garden to see you. We keep quiet 'cause we're dead if they knew, so close your eyes. Escape this town for a little while."

--"Love Story" by Taylor Swift

Chapter Eight: Forbidden

Sakura smiles at me and spins around, the skirts of her summer dress brushing against the wooden floor of Clow's summer home, which the Shiyu family and I have been invited to spend the warm weather. "You look lovely," I say, returning the smile.

"'Tis Miss Ichihara that does all the work," she laughs. "I simply have to wear it and somehow pull her magnificent designs off."

Amaterasu has also brought Kamui, and Kamui brought Fuego and Nieve at my request. We have been at the summerhouse for nearly a month. The July weather is already sweltering, but come August, I do believe I shall wither away into ashes. The Kinomoto family invited their own close acquaintance: Yukito Tsukishiro. But the guest list did not end there; Tomoyo invited along one of Kusanagi's apprentices, Syaoran Li.

But Clow Reed is known for his generosity and graciousness, meaning that all were welcome as long as they were friends of his friends, friends of his family, or simply just his friends.

There are certainly more than enough rooms to suffice for this crowd. My room is fortunately located directly across from Sakura's in the curve of the upstairs level and beside Touya's. Touya never comes from his room after we sup, and Sakura is always outdoors until Souma or Tomoyo drag her back in before sundown. But that isn't even near why I am so fortunate to have the room I have.

The room I have has two windows, both which face the back of the house, and therefore, face the forest. One of the windows is directly above the window of the kitchen—which is nearly never used, as the slaves and maids prepare food in the smaller house across the main one—and that same window happens to have a rather thick, and tall ledge coming out from the top.

A ledge easily used as a step.

Even in the dead of the night, it isn't difficult to locate the step, perch one's foot against it and swing oneself down. 'Tis even easier when one must only lightly touch the ledge before dropping down onto a horse, saddled and ready.

"The dress does not outshine you in anyway," I say amiably, offering her my arm. "But you look wearied, darling. You didn't eat much supper, either. Are you turning in for an early night?"

She wraps her fingers around my elbow, and allows me to walk her up the stairs and we stand in the doorway of her bedroom. "I suppose I am. 'Tis the heat, you know," she widens her eyes. "It's so dreadful. I must wear all these skirts—and even the lightest cannot bring anymore breeze, lest I appear indecent."

I try to look understanding of the mundane matter. "Of course. Well…" my heart is already beginning to thump. "I wish you a good night and sweet dreams."

The moment she has finished smiling and has closed the door, I walk quickly into my room, and lock the door—bolting it shut, tightly. I step to my bed and begin undressing, until I'm in my barest clothing, and place the clothes I've just shed beneath the sheets of the bed. I then lie bend down and swipe my hand underneath the bed until I touch the hard coil of rope, and pull it out. I look at it oddly. I could've sworn it'd been three feet longer, as I stretch it out.

But there is no time to waste, as I can already hear him approaching out the window. I secure the rope around the bedpost and hoist myself slowly over the ledge of the window, with my foot firmly on the upper edge of the bottom window's steeple-like roof. I glance below me and shove the rope back into the window at the same time I let go and place one foot on the hard, leather of Fuego's saddle.

Kurogane has Fuego's reins in one hand, while he himself is seated upon Nieve, whom I've never seen so content in all the time I've owned him. I look at Kurogane and my eyes aren't given anything short. Just looking at him is a novelty. I myself in my barest clothes would only serve to emphasize on how I, as Souma phrases it, "need fat on his bones and color in his skin". Whereas the sleeves of Kurogane's shirt are rolled up to emphasize on the deft fingers and contoured arms that came with his trade, and his breeches are strained all the more by how he saddles Nieve.

Please forgive me Father, 'tis been…a while…since my last confession…

I jest. Although, I shouldn't. There is nothing remotely amusing about looking at another man's crotch. It isn't only vulgar, but it is unnatural, wrong, disgusting, loathsome, against nature, a sin…and so many, many others.

But help it…I cannot.

I settle myself onto Fuego, and wordlessly gaze at Kurogane's face. In the dim light of the lantern, I can just make out the expression on his edged features. He holds up the lantern to illuminate my own face, and his eyes search me. He raises his eyebrows just the littlest bit and I smile. "Let's."

I allow the feather of my quill to tickle my chin, as I pause and tilt my head, looking thoughtfully at the paper. I've contemplated how best to bring about this scene. It's the most crucial scene—the most critical part—of the story. I never was a writer. That was never I. Drama…shock…I could never instigate those feelings in another person unless it is caused solely because of their reactions to me. But I think I might know how to craft this one into something resembling what it felt like—what it was.

But for that, I need assistance. And inspiration.

I turn the pages of the diary until I find the respective date, and I reach in to extricate the next piece. A silver star of the exact shape and precise size of the one before it. I remove it from it's fitted cushion and place it beside it's companion—the thin, little silver arms click into place like puzzle pieces. I look at the two stars linked together. The star that I just put in also has a letter engraved upon it: the letter R.

Just outside of Williamsburg. July 28th, 1774.

Clow Reed Kinomoto's Summerhouse.

The Forest behind the main house.

Yukito stands against the tree, his eyes focused on the man before him—the shadowed figure outlined by the lantern at his hand. The night is pitch black, and the insects are buzzing in the high grass that reaches to their knees. Yukito raises his own lantern to illuminate the man's face. Touya Kinomoto's raven eyes stone back at him.

"I apologize for calling you out." Yukito says quietly. "Will you speak to me?"

Touya only continues to stare pointlessly. "Give me a damned reason why I should, and I'll consider the matter. But I advise that you not raise your hopes. Just as you raised mine, and then ran away to New York."

Yukito's eyes close behind his glasses. He sighs and brings the lantern down from face level. He doesn't want to see the emptiness—the disappointment, hurt and anger—in those eyes. He doesn't want to see it and know that it was he himself who brought all of this about. He just wants to make Touya understand that if he hadn't left Williamsburg…he…he just wants to make Touya understand that with Yukito gone, both Touya and Sakura would be able to have a chance a real future.

He himself always knew what he wanted to be when he became an adult. But he also knew just as well how Touya never had anything particular in mind. Yukito hoped that those words Touya said to him were just something thrown out in the heat of their trysts. Yukito never thought that those words were true, and even when they were, Yukito doesn't want them to be. He loves and hates those few sentences—those tiny sentiments once said to him more than he could imagine.

"I thought I was forgiven," Yukito murmurs. "Wasn't that what you last said to me? That you forgave me for what I had to do."

Touya looks up at him incredulously. "At the very least, you chose to leave. I was the one that was left. I was the one who didn't have a choice at possibly never seeing you again before I died. You left me. You weren't moving. You left me. I don't know what I could have done to you—said to you—that made you want to leave except for one thing. One thing, Yukito."

"And pray tell, what is that one?" Yukito has a childish urge to clamp his hands over his ears and pretend he isn't listening.

"Intercourse." Touya says, teeth held tightly, "And those words. The ones you asked me to take back. The ones that I now believe started those errantly, foolishly, ridiculously, stupid, selfish thoughts to leave Virginia in the first place."

Yukito's mouth hangs open. He cannot believe this. He cannot believe that Touya thinks so low of him as to suggest that he believes Yukito ran away because they warmed each other's beds. But he couldn't deny the words. Those words were precisely the thing that alerted him to leave. "'All my life, I wanted to stay a boy and never decide what kind of man I want to be,'" Yukito quotes softly, "'Or what I want to be as a man. But you…and this…you made me think…made me know and consider…that…'" Yukito takes a deep breath, "'That maybe becoming a man wouldn't be so terrible.'"

"You recall them better than I, the one who said those words, could," Touya's mouth pulls up into a half-smile. "But enlighten me. I don't understand how those words alone could have made you believe you needed to leave."

"I knew that you never wanted to stop being a child," Yukito says, closing his eyes and not opening them. "'Twas your personality—your character. 'Twas simply you. But…me…for me…for me as a man…a man…to have changed one of the most permanent, defining aspects of you…for me to redefine such a certain part of you…it frightened me. Terrified me out of my sane mind. And so I fled."

Touya reaches out to touch the closed eyelids behind the spectacles—to remove the glasses with his teeth and run his lips over the span of Yukito's forehead. But before he could do so, there is an audible echo—an audible male human sound.

Yukito's eyes snap open and he meets Touya's eyes, horrified. If anyone saw this sight…if anyone found out…both would be hard pressed to conjure an excuse…something to veer them from finding out…

But the sounds are not voices talking.

Touya jerks his head to one side, gesturing for them to trace it to its source. Yukito nods, and covers one side of his lantern just as Touya does—to avoid the light giving them away as they walked near. Their steps are muted by the grass and slightly damp earth. It is easy for them to dodge the near invisible trees in the dark. They are more than used to keeping quiet and unfounded.

However, the two men they discover apparently are not used to it at all.

I stare at the small black velvet box Kurogane has placed in my hand—once we dismounted from Fuego and Nieve and had tied them to trees and kept them silent. Within the box is a star precisely like the one he gave me before. Only on this one the letter 'R' is engraved. There is a small slit in one of the arms. Kurogane sees me observing this. "'Tis to fit into place with the one I gave you before. They'll fit like a puzzle piece."

"There are more?" I ask. "Where will you get the expenses to pay for this? A project for yourself shouldn't cost you so much. You'll need ever bit of money for when you finish your apprenticeship."

"Kusanagi gives me enough," he says, stepping closer until he and I are front to front. "Just…just take it. You have to."

I laugh. "Oh, so now I must? 'Tis not even a choice anymore?"

"No," he responds in a lofty snarl. "Take the damned star." He puts his hand beneath mine—the one I'm holding the star with—and closes it into a fist. He uses that same hand to pull me in and crush our lips together. I inhale from his mouth, and he takes the opening to slip his tongue in.

I couldn't have refused. It would have been rude.

He slides his mouth from mine to my throat, his fingers in my hair, moving my head aside so he can brush his lips messily up and down the pale, white column. The lantern lies forgotten, aside. Somehow, the dark makes it that much more thrilling—heightens the sense of foreboding.

But at the time, neither Kurogane nor I knew that things were usually forbidden for good reason, and then when some scenario had the sense of foreboding, it was most likely not just a sense.

We didn't realize that until that night, when Kurogane straightened away from me slowly, only to have me look in the same direction he was:

Touya—my future brother-in-law—and Yukito Tsukishiro, the ex-fiance of my future wife stood there watching, their faces stupefied, and a lantern held up to glow straight into our faces.

A/N: Sorry it's been a long time. Intrigue is easier to update than this one here because it's way easier to write the way people in the 21st century do than in the 18th, especially if you're from the 21st. 0_0 Anyhoo, if you haven't already, check the update on my profile: It's good news for those who like Intrigue better than Rule (like I do, because even though its fun, it's still...challenging to write this, which I suppose is good for me). And guess what. My high school placement tests have come back. They're...okay to me. I scored all high in the National Percentile....but my actual scores ranged from below average to high. Most of my maths were above average to low average, and all of my vocab and writing and languages and grammar were high. Gee. I wonder what that says about me. Lol.