Disclaimer: all SM characters belong to Naoko Takeuchi, but this story belongs to me. So please don't steal it!
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You guys wanting to hit Seiya so much is starting to worry me... lol!
Faia Fire: although it is a sequel to Fiery Tales, I don't think it's fair to compare them. I mean, the first one was the begining, true, but it was more... raw? Ok, fine, horny. And this one is set a few years after that; their love grew strong over the years, and without that, all the pain and drama would just make no sense at all...
I so didn't know you liked "Life with the Outers", too. Yes, I came across that little post of yours in the forums. Why? 'Cause I know it all, that's why. Ok, not all. Wish I knew the wining lotery numbers... *sigh* but I don't...
petiyaka: you know, you can say you want Haruka to go back to Michiru all you want, but I know you're enjoying this! XD you faithful, crazy reader!
Bony: I'm sorry the last few chaps were annoyingly down. And no, I'm not depressed. It's just that kind of story, but I hope you can still somewhat enjoy it in all its sadness glory anyways.
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Anyway! Guess what? New chap!
I don't know what I felt
that afternoon, when I saw you.
I was thinking about other things,
but you meant a lot to me.
I believed in your words,
your eyes set me up.
Now I know you're not mine,
the blame is on me.
I didn't mean to hurt you,
that was never my intention.
We were victims of an impulse,
I was only searching for love.
And when I saw you in the street
I couldn't help the silence taking over me,
I was left speechless.
Now I know you're not mine,
the blame is on me.
You can leave if you want to,
There's only one thing that I ask;
if there's still a bit of love left
inside your heart,
don't look into my eyes,
because I die, I die in pain.
Do it for me.
And thinking about your eyes,
I can't smile anymore.
You can leave if you want to,
There's only one thing that I ask;
if there's still a bit of love left
inside your heart,
don't look into my eyes,
because I die, I die in pain.
Do it for me.
(Hacelo por mí - Attaque 77)
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9
He rested his elbows against the counter, mindlessly playing with his drink, making the liquid swirl around in the glass. The music was good and kind of catchy, but of course, he didn't know the song. He was slowly getting used to not knowing stuff. Didn't matter if he didn't remember, or if he honestly didn't know in the first place.
Taking a sip, he let his eyes wander around the dance floor. Not really knowing if it was because of her height or because of her happily drunken state, his midnight blues landed on a sensually, teasingly dancing brunette. Her hair was up in a carefully studied messy bun, leaving her neck bare and exposed. The black lace dress with the corset like bra marking her figure made her looked older.
He shook his head then, lightly chuckling to himself. She was older. They all were. All miniskirts and high heels, dressing tees and sexy tops.
They were out celebrating Makoto's birthday. Again. Minako had phoned him earlier that day, giving him a speech about being young and beautiful only once, and then informing him they were all going out clubbing to have a proper, official celebration of Makoto's twenty fourth birthday. And though he couldn't really find a valid reason as to why the one celebration they had at her place didn't exactly qualify as 'official', a good old night out couldn't hurt.
Yes, they were definitively older. And they certainly dressed as such, he noted, as he allowed his blue eyes to admire the more mature, more graceful body of one particular blonde. With her hair in her usual, trademark style, the endless pigtails cascading down her back and dancing behind her, she moved to the music, arms raised up and hips swinging to the sides.
Odango sure made one beautiful woman. Specially on that little light pink, one shoulder dress, kissing her every curve like that. But as he contemplated her dancing figure, a frown came to his features.
She was beautiful, and very, very attractive, yet... he wasn't exactly attracted to her...
And as he saw the black haired man he came to know as Mamoru going to the petite blonde and hug her, making her turn around and kiss the guy deeply and lovingly, he had to admit, the scene in front of him didn't exactly break his heart, as he thought it would. It didn't bothered him as much as it would have, eight years ago. The gentle, loving way he held her waist, the adoring look upon her face; it didn't make him jealous. It didn't make him wish he was him. But it did feed that nagging little feeling, deep inside him. That same feeling that has been keeping him awake half of the night -the half he didn't spend sleeping and dreaming of his Princess, to then wake up unable to recall his own dreams at all.
Seeing Usagi with Mamoru like that, like the couple they really were, didn't break his heart, but it made him feel lonely. It made him want that for himself. And even more strangely, it made him miss that...
Was it even possible to miss something he never had?
"A scofflaw, please," a female voice next to him said, taking him out of his own thoughts and making him turn to the lady in question.
Aquamarine curly hair pulled up in a low, stylish messy bun. Just a little bit of eyeshadow and mascara adorning blue eyes, and a cream colored, strapless ruffle dress that seemed to be painted over her body, Michiru rested her forearms against the counter, as she waited for the bartender to fix her drink.
"Oh, Seiya, hi!" she greeted him, smiling. "Didn't see you there."
"Hi," he greeted back, slightly nodding his head. "A scofflaw, uh?"
"The classy girl likes whiskey," she said, as her blue eyes went wide opened, faking a surprised expression. "Shock, shock, shock!"
He chuckled at that, amused at her teasing, joking attitude. "Indeed. Though I'm wondering if you can actually handle that."
"I'm a big girl," she assured him, now offering a softer, genuine smile. "But thanks for your concern," she said, again smiling, as the bartender gave her the requested drink.
Turning around, now resting her back against the counter, she took a sip, not particularly looking in a rush to get away from him. Taking that as a good sign -maybe Hotaru really wasn't the only one he was in good terms with-, he relaxed against the counter himself, taking a sip from his own kamikaze drink.
"So, how are you?" the violinist asked, tilting her head to a side and looking at him. "I know I haven't asked before, and I apologize for that," she soon added, smiling.
And that surprised him. She was being polite, and he already knew Michiru could easily be crowned the queen of politeness and impeccable manners. But it was the gentile, honest tone in her voice, and that genuine smile she gave him that he wasn't really expecting.
True, Michiru had never been anything but nice and polite towards him. Teasing, even. But he could clearly remember Neptune's deadly glares and her well placed -in her mind, at least- but still quite acid words.
"It's ok, I know you're busy and all," he said, returning the smile. "And I'm... you know... getting used to things, I guess."
A small frown that resembled a wince came to her features then, and Michiru smiled at him. "Still unable to recall anything?"
"Nope," he answered, shaking his head in denial. "Not a thing. Just one big black hole."
She tilted her head to a side again, in thought for a moment, before the smile came back to her features. "Well, if there's any way I can help you out... just ask."
"Thanks, I appreciate that," he said, returning the smile. "It's really nice of you."
She chuckled softly at that. "Why? Was I ever under the 'not so nice' tag?"
He had to chuckle too. Kinda... but not exactly..., he thought to himself. But out loud, he said instead, "Well, no, but... you know... tell me who your friends are and I'll tell you who you are..."
She frowned again then, wrinkling her nose in a disproving, yet kind of amused manner. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, raising her free hand up to her chest.
"I'm sorry!" he exclaimed back, chuckling again. "But, you know... you get what I mean..."
"I do," she agreed, nodding her head. "And I mean that. Ouch."
"I just don't understand what you see in her," he defended himself. "She's not exactly the friendly, approachable kind."
"See, that's where you're completely wrong," she disagreed with him. "She is. You two just started off with the wrong foot, that's all."
"Yeah, you can say that."
"And, for the record," she continued, smiling again, "and since you have this whole amnesia little thing of yours going on... we're not together anymore."
He blinked at that, honestly and utterly surprised at the news. And somehow, his reaction made her smile get a bit wider. Smugger, even.
"Haven't been, for years," she empathized. "But she's still very, very important to me. She's my best friend, and I don't take it lightly when people talk badly of her," she warned, smiling at him, yet somehow managing to sound kind of threatening. "So keep any unflattering comments to yourself."
Now, that was the kind of tone Neptune would use. Polite, charming even, but still deadly serious.
"Or in Hotaru's words, if you can't make it cute, keep it mute," she finished, as her soft, charming smile came back to her features for a moment, before taking a sip from her drink.
Again, he chuckled at her last comment, shaking his head. "I will, promise," he assured her, raising one hand, palm up.
"Good," she said, giggling now as she raised her glass in silent toast. "Because we're friends, and I kind of like you."
"Friends, uh?"
"Yes. And I'm not particularly fond of having to be mean to my friends," she joked, winking at him.
"Well, I'm not fond of my friends being mean to me, so we're on the same page," he joked along with her, chuckling lightly. "But I have to admit, I was starting to think Hotaru was the only one I'm in good terms with..."
She almost chocked with her own drink at his words. And he frowned at her when the violinist simply laughed, as if he had just said the funniest thing in the world or something.
"Oh, dear!" she said, calming herself down and placing a hand over her chest. "I think I really needed a good laugh..."
"What?" he asked, honestly lost and confused. "What's so funny?"
"Nothing," she answered, waving her hand. "Everything. Life, its ironies..." she trailed off, obviously still amused over something. But then she shook her head, composing herself. "Don't mind me. I'm just the classy girl with a drink in her hand and..." she joked, trailing off when a new song started playing, and a big smile came to her face, "dying to go in there and dance to this song!" she finished, obviously excited now, as she pulled from his hand.
But he stood his place, hesitating. And she pouted at him.
"Come on, let's dance!" she pleaded.
"I don't even know this song", he excused himself.
She tilted her head to a side, arching a mocking eyebrow. "That's a rather lame excuse, and you know it."
Yes, he did. But that feeling that attacked him a few minutes ago was still there, and it had pretty much ruined is party mood.
And as his eyes landed on the form of one tall blonde woman moving to the music in the middle of the dance floor, he came up with yet another reason not to take Michiru's offer up. Sure, she had just clearly said they were no longer together. But vividly remembering Tenoh's reaction on that dressing room, and her well known tendency to over-protectiveness, he just wasn't risking it.
The last thing he needed right now was to go back to that hospital. And though normally he wouldn't, not for the life of him, back away like that, the truth was, he wasn't fully recovered. The lack of proper sleep just adding to the equation, and he just wasn't stupid enough as to fuel any kind of fight when he knew he wasn't strong enough to face one yet.
"I think I'll have to pass," he said to the violinist, shaking his shoulder. "Thanks for the offer, though."
She pouted at him one last time, before finally giving up and just heading to the dance floor by herself.
He followed her with his gaze as the violinist made a straight line to the blonde dancing in there, taking her hand and making her dance with her. And as his eyes went from the violinist in the tight, sexy little cream dress to the tall woman now dancing next to her, he found himself contemplating her. Taking in her every detail.
Once again, he was surprised at her choice of clothing. A carbon colored swing tank, lose enough not to mark her figure, though the cleavage line clearly insinuated her rather generous curves, and a wine colored sleeveless sweater cardigan over it. Black pencil pants covering her toned, amazingly long legs, and low heeled, suede wine colored boots on her feet.
And once again, he found there was something different about her. And he was sure that black eyeliner around her eyes wasn't it. And it wasn't the way she was dancing either, rocking her hips from side to side, hands in lose fits and raised up in the air, eyes closed, and head swinging to the beat.
So what was it?
Though the rocking of her hips, the circular movements she was making, was kind of... enchanting... Alluring, even. In a completely, surprisingly sensual way.
The lights changed, following the music, from red to blue, and as his eyes were following Tenoh's movements as she danced, something else flashed in front of his eyes.
Hips moving. Slower. Sultrier. An under layer of pink covering the front, and then nothing but mesh black lace. A black laced bra with that same pink under layer covering round, generous breasts, as teasing hands cupped them.
And then those same hands, dancing in the air. Slowly. Sensually. Teasingly going down that glorious cleavage, and then lifting up wavy, raven hair up, leaving a long, soft looking neck bare and exposed.
And just as they came, the flashing images disappeared, leaving him blinking in surprise, as he was once again watching the tall racer's dancing figure. Not nearly as sensually as the mysterious woman, but somehow just as coordinated and gracefully.
He shook his head, clearing his mind. What the hell was he doing, staring at her, anyway?
"You ok?" came Yaten's voice from right behind him, and he welcomed the distraction, turning around to face the shorter man.
"Yeah, everything's cool."
Yaten frowned at him, arching an eyebrow. "You sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure," he answered, now a bit annoyed.
"You kind of zoned out for a moment..." Yaten pointed out, frowning rather worriedly.
"I was just talking to Michiru before she went out to dance," he said, as if that would explain everything. His eyes landing on one swinging blonde head again, and the frown coming back to his features. "She looks kinda drunk..."
"Michiru?"
"No," he answered, pointing at the blonde with his head. "Tenoh."
And she did. He knew she was too uptight and too stiff to ever dance like that, so freely. Gulping, he admitted her carefree movements, her twisting body, her rocking hips, the way she pulled her bangs out of her eyes, running her fingers through her hair and raising up her face, with her eyes closed, exposing her long neck and arching her back, insinuating her cleavage... the end result was a rather sensual looking Tenoh, dancing in the middle of the night club.
So, yes, she had to be drunk. Or maybe he was the one with the alcohol going up his brain...
"I hope not..." Yaten's whispered comment didn't escape him, and he frowned again, now turning back to look at his friend. "What?" the shorter man asked, noticing the questioning glare upon midnight blues. "You're not the only one I don't like to play nanny with. It's a general dislike to that kind of job."
He blinked a few times, trying to find some sense into Yaten's words. But when he couldn't find any, he just blinked at him. "Why would you ever play nanny with her?"
The lime green eyed man shook his shoulder at the question, pointing at the bunch of beautiful women dancing not that far away from the drunk looking racer. "Been around them for too long," he justified himself. "Their lovey dovey, 'I care for my friends and look after them' shit is contagious, ok?"
Not wanting to make sense out of that one affirmation and adding any kind of meaning that had something to do with the playing Tenoh's nanny part, he simply raised his hand, giving up on the task of trying to understand Yaten's words at all. Because they simply didn't make any sense, and he was simply too tired to put his brain into caring for such crazy talk.
Maybe Yaten had have a few more drinks than he should have, too.
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From the corner of her eye she saw some guy taking Ami out for a dance, and she chuckled. Even in the general dimness, she was able to see the bluenette's burning cheeks.
No matter how much time passed and how old they all get, she could still see the cute bunch of sweet girls in them.
She shook her head, closing her eyes and following the music with her body, trying to catch up with the general relaxed, happy feeling all around her. They were out partying after all, celebrating her friend's birthday. So she moved and danced, listening to the beats and wanting to get lost in it, if only for a moment, and enjoy herself.
But she couldn't. No matter how much she tried, she just couldn't. She was too aware of one particular black haired young man by the bar, and him standing there was making her nervous. Like a magnet, her eyes would advert his way every few minutes, and his mere presence was making it impossible for her to relax.
She was just too conscious. Too sober. And for once in her life she seriously wanted to drink herself senseless.
She shook her head again, dismissing the thought. That was just not an option. So she went back to her dancing, once again trying to lose herself to the world. But when, from the corner of her eye, she saw that particular black haired guy talking to her Princess, and the both of them laughing at something, she just couldn't take it.
Usagi wasn't really giving any sign to encourage romantic pursuing. Mamoru was standing right there, next to them, and she knew, not even teenage Seiya would be that bold, getting so out of place and even embarrassing himself and Usagi in the process. He knew when to back away.
And so did she.
It hurt too much for her to stay.
Eight years ago, seeing him this infatuated with her Princess had annoyed her to no ends. And bothered her too, considering how Mamoru was missing back then. But now the Prince was right there, and that alone made things different, though it still bothered her. Not because she was jealous -though maybe there was a little bit of that too-, but because it hurt to know he was completely oblivious to what they had. To the love they shared.
He just didn't know, didn't remember. And he couldn't stand her.
It just hurt too much, and it was suffocating her.
Not wanting to worry anyone, to see that pitiful look in their eyes, she expertly let herself get lost in the mass of dancing bodies. Slowly getting away from the group. And when she was sure no one was looking her way or searching for her, she took off. Getting away from that place as fast as her feet and the dancing mass would allow her to.
Remembering to get her coat on the last minute, and not wanting to go back on her path and risking someone spotting her, she went for the back door, opening it up and stepping out, finding herself in the open parking lot. The door closed behind her, and she stood there for a moment, resting her coat over the railing and taking deep breaths, welcoming the cold night air now hitting her face. The now muffled music still reached her, but she blocked it away, concentrating only in her current task.
Breathe, she told herself. The cold, gentle wind easing the turbulence inside her, but not making it go away.
Just breathe...
She didn't know how long she stood there, with her eyes closed and taking easy, steady breaths. Her arms and hands were cold. Her nose was cold. And she could only guess her cheeks were getting red, with the wind hitting her face like that. But she didn't care. She was cold, and it didn't matter, because it somehow matched how she felt inside.
Numb.
"You should put that on," came a male voice she could recognize anywhere from behind her, and she straightened her back, getting tense all over again, not daring to turn around and look at him. "People usually do that to avoid freezing to death."
A soft, sad chuckled escaped her, and she shook her head. He almost sound as if he actually cared.
Almost.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, frustrated.
This was just her luck. She was desperately trying to get away from him, and the entire universe was mocking her. Was it really too much to ask? To be left alone?
"Taking some fresh air," came the easy answer. "What are you doing here, besides just standing there and freezing your ass off?" he asked back.
Stupid, moronic, know it all asshole. Damned freaking alien! He just had to be everywhere, didn't he? He just had to make her love him this much to then just... forget about her...
"Since when do you care?" she asked, unable to keep the frustration, the annoyance, the pain, and every single vibrating emotion ranging inside her off her voice.
Knowing he would take her tone and read all the wrong sings in it, knowing he didn't remember how to read her anymore, and simply not caring, she just took off. With fast, resolute strides, she just walked away, spotting her car a good twenty feet away.
"Hey, you're forgetting this!" he exclaimed behind her.
And she didn't need to turn around to know what he was talking about. Her cold arms and back were, by now, a painful remainder. But she honestly didn't care. She just wanted to get out of there, as far away from him as humanly possible.
She just kept on walking, determined, but a hand on her wrist forced her to stop, making her turn around and meet midnight blue eyes.
And she just had it.
"What do you want?" she asked, practically yelling at him.
He just blinked, raising his hands up in the air. One palm up, the other holding her sheepskin coat. Offering it to her.
Why did he absolutely had to be so goddamned chivalrous? And he was so close now; those deep, midnight blue eyes looking straight into her green ones. It was all so painfully tempting...
Taking the offered item, she turned back around, knowing she needed to get out of there before she could do something she knew she'd regret. She could feel the world dissolving all around her, and he was just so close, so near...
To hell with it!, she told herself, turning around once more and facing him. He probably thought she was drunk, anyway. So what did she had to lose, besides herself?
One last time.
She just wanted to feel him. To savor the taste of his lips, one last time.
And so, before the darkness could take her, she reached out her hand, placing it at the back of his neck and bringing him to her. Closing her eyes to enjoy the feeling, even if he didn't respond. A single tear falling down her cheek, she did the one thing she was dying to do.
She kissed him.