DIFFICULT, DAUNTLESS DARLING

CHAPTER 11: MOUNTAIN SLIDE

MONDAY : MORNING

It's been a week since Tomoyo Daidouji's engagement. It was unnatural for college students to be married so early in their lives, but Tomoyo and his beau were hardly normal. Sakura understood that securing their families' businesses played a major role in their arrangement. Weddings are supposed to be merry, but this one seriously feels tragic.

That September morning, Sakura has done a quite uncharacteristic thing: she spiked her orange juice with soju. Attending class inebriated was something she knew she shouldn't do but –

"LI-SAN!"

She needed the drunken bravado.

Syaoran Li, accompanied by two men in matching grey button-down shirts (and those earphone thingies bodyguards always seem to have on), was ascending the steps of a campus building. Donned in a faded cotton denim button-down with sleeves folded on his elbows and jeans, he mildly turned in a refined motion. He watched Sakura run up to him like she was still a teenager.

The bodyguards sternly examined her, and before they were able to make a single step, the heir had already lifted a finger to warn them. It wasn't their first time seeing a chick approach, and said chick usually came from a wealthy family, generally an acquaintance, a daughter of a politician or an entrepreneur. This one was quite… ordinary… with an extraordinary face. The duo looked at each other and playfully smiled, they would have to grill their young master for cheesy details later.

She was wearing a rainbow striped tee with sleeves that ended above her elbows and a blue cotton skirt that stopped mid-thigh. She had her hair tied in a ponytail. The freshman cheerleader in high school – she appeared to be reliving those days. When she caught up to him, she was panting moderately, but her heart was beating erratically.

"I, um," she had her emeralds locked with his ambers. COME ON, she yelled in her mind, forcing her to say the words she prepared for.

Syaoran, in his tall stature, simply gazed down at her and a shadow of pity swept across his eyes. He had seen her try twice already, maybe it's time he assisted her with some encouragement. After all, she's not going to be here for very long. He began to walk slowly, entering the building, and Sakura followed suit. When they stopped in front of the lift, he told the guards, "Why don't you take the next one. I'll meet you up there."

They went inside the elevator – him with his poised, careful steps, and her slow, tensed ones. "We take the same class this morning," he gave her a brief glance before he focused on the buttons and pressed fifth.

"W-we do," she clasped her palms together and simultaneously fiddled with the fabric of her skirt. "I, uh, I am deeply sorry for last time. I truly am –"

She couldn't finish her poor rambling, he cut her off with his toneless question. "Why didn't you call me after?" His gaze was glued to the lift's metallic doors, as though he was avoiding eye contact.

Sakura pressed her lips together. She knew it would come to that. They were friends, or perhaps a bit more than that. He rightly deserved a proper explanation. "I…" her voice was no longer edgy, instead it seemed defeated. "I was too embarrassed to call you. You were so nice to me, and I should have told you what your mother sent me." It was easier, much easier, when she was practicing. It didn't sound disorganized. "I didn't know how to say sorry. I mean, after over a year, I still haven't found the appropriate words to –"

For several seconds while the young miss was searching for the fitting terms to complete her apology, the silence was almost deafening. The elevator was suffocating, and Syaoran had begun to wonder if this rubbish box was the suitable location to commune this subject. "Okay," he said, like his old teenager self. It was neither cold nor rigid. It was… simply okay.

"Okay?" Sakura gaped up at his face, confused.

He let out a relaxed sigh, as if consoled by the removal of the thorn from his system. He waited a long time, and even surprised himself that he hadn't given to his impatience and demanded the explanation out of the girl. He turned to look at her and smiled ever so gently. "Okay," he repeated.

She mirrored the sigh, hers was of relief. FINALLY! "Okay!" she cheered, effervescence bouncing back in her emerald orbs. She has finally apologized, and he accepted it! They can be friends again!

Her grin was so genuine, Syaoran couldn't help but tease her a little. He tilted his head to the side, and said, "Did you drink?"

"!" Sakura almost hopped in surprise; her right-hand fingers covered her lips. She stared at him in sheer humiliation. "I, um, put soju in my juice. My, uh, roommate's Korean and she had a bottle in the fridge!"

He chuckled softly. Her panicky flushed face brought Syaoran a sudden feeling of nostalgia. She was the same one in his car when he teased her about dressing up for him. He believed she took alcohol to be able to approach him, he swore it to be true.

They walked out of the lift when the doors slid open and were shocked to see a ton of students roaming about. Being seen together would cause talk, right? "I'm sure the team would appreciate your inputs. Thank you, Li-san!" she said loudly, so people who might be eavesdropping would assume they were together for professional reasons.

"Syaoran," he corrected, his face deadpan as he stared blankly at the hallway they were about to take. "And I said no such thing."

"!" Sakura's face grew hot and red with embarrassment. Seriously, every time she's with him, he's always adding color to her skin! "You could have ridden along," she muttered through gritted teeth as she tried to keep up with his pace. Syaoran ignored her.

They walked to class together and were automatically seatmates. Having resolved their issue, she had seen it fit to inquire regarding his welfare. "So, how have you been?" she asked in a chipper tone.

While organizing his things, Syaoran, in the same reserved air, answered with a single word, "Friendless."

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair whilst taking a quick glance around the room. Since it was still half empty, she estimated the safety of their closeness. "Well," she brightly smiled at him, "I'm here! You have one now!"

Syaoran crossed his arms on his chest and let his full weight fall on the backrest of his chair. He gazed at her sideways and raised a brow. "I don't know," he responded, utmost doubt in his voice. "Sometimes, I sneak out and employ myself in scandalous revels," he lied. "I'm not positive if I want you aware of my whereabouts knowing where loyalties lie."

"!" Sakura's jaw dropped, finding it difficult to believe what she was hearing. "That was one time!" she whispered loudly, strong enough to assert her words, but reduced enough so as not to land on prying ears. "It's not like I've spoken to your mother since!" Pause. She didn't want to continue this conversation. "So, why are you friendless?" and gave way to curiosity instead.

He trained his eyes toward the classroom board, "I'm busy, obviously. Work, school, I barely have time to go to the gym. I would rather my old life – reckless and knee deep in parties. My youth wouldn't be like this if I…" he trailed off, and gave her a pressing glance, "you know, if I were still in Japan."

"!" If he was trying to get under her skin, he was winning. "Okay, are you going to throw that in my face every time we talk?" Guilt trickled through her, somehow being accused of making his life miserable. "I do deserve it," she muttered, a pout sprouting from her lips.

Syaoran, once more, wore his customary smug. Teasing her was so easy. "Yes," he answered her question. "Until it gets old."

She had succumbed into a childish sigh. After half a minute or so, she asked about something that bugged her: "Should I… call you by your first name in front of the others?" She recalled the way he corrected her in the elevator.

"Hmm…" he pondered. "I don't see any problem with it." He smirked at her again, "If anyone asks, just say you forced familiarity on me."

"!" Aghast at his suggestion, his responses were more startling than the last. "Nah," she composed herself. "I think I'll just call you Li."

Syaoran shrugged, "Suit yourself." He continued, "But don't expect me to call you Kinomoto."

"!" Isn't this an exceptional situation!? Back in high school, it was already nerve wracking whenever students would poke their noses into their business. He was the apple of every eye, and Sakura never wanted to be sucked into his spotlight! "What!? Why!? The other interns would –"

Before she was able to finish her sentence, the professor walked in, and took his place on the platform in front of the class. "Sshh," Syaoran looked at her at the corner of his eye and had his index finger against the tip of his nose. "Time's up."

An hour later, the two bodyguards were found outside the classroom and they rejoined their young master and his miss when they walked out. There would be an idle time of two hours before their next class, and the concept of hanging out hovered heavily in the air. Neither one prepared to vocalize a reason to stick around.

"Li xiansheng," a woman in perfect diction appeared when they arrived at the entrance of the building.

"Wong xiaojie," Syaoran gave her a curt nod, his tone marked by the occasional doubt. "Aren't you supposed to be in New York?"

Sakura didn't realize it, but she was staring at her. She carried the confidence of being his perfect match. "Oh, I'm just visiting for half a month," Dandan Wong said in practiced warmth. "Oh, hello!" She greeted the auburn-haired lady as if she just saw her. She turned to the heir, "Aren't you going to introduce us?"

Syaoran exhibited an exasperated sigh. He honestly didn't see the point, and her tricky charm seemed shady. However, he felt he had no choice. "This –"

"Kinomoto-san!" Syaoran was interrupted by an innocent, buoyant voice. It was Nao Yokoyama, he recognized her as one of the interns. Next to her was a South Korean gal.

"Let's gooooo!" came a whiny voice. More interns showed up and Syaoran was delighted to see them. Maybe he could hang out with everyone? Get to know them! "I'm starving!" continued the same whining tone.

Sakura, smiling, peered at her wristwatch, and directed her question to the crying boy. "Isn't it too early for lunch, Fu-kun?"

Shang Fu took a step closer to her and his left palm instantly landed on her shoulder. "Didn't you hear me, Kinomoto?" he mildly shook her. "I'm starving!"

"Li xiansheng, please join us," amiably said by Chia-yu Kao, the female Taiwanese. Syaoran seemed surprised to be addressed, he didn't notice that his ambers were glaring at Shang Fu's hand on Sakura's shoulder. He opened his mouth to respond, but Dandan beat him to it.

"Oh, dear!" she feigned a gasp. "I'm so sorry. We have plans," her hands, then, snaked around the heir's elbow, possessively claiming him. Sakura slightly threw her head back, obviously astounded by her boldness. Girls back in high school did that to him, too, but that was before – when he was still a major party boy. Syaoran, in his hometown, was different – he was esteemed, like a prince of sorts, as though only a selected few were allowed to touch him.

Chia-yu maintained her dignified smile. "We understand," she said, before turning to Sakura. "Shall we go, Kinomoto?"

The twenty year old nodded in response. She gave Syaoran a friendly glance, and swore she saw the hint of screams in his eyes. Her lips formed a half smile, hoping to comfort him, "I'll see you in the office." She bowed in respect, a customary gesture for the Japanese.

A minute later, all interns present exited the campus grounds. Shang Fu didn't speak of anything aside from food, but the others were itching to ask who Dandan Wong was. Kang Ju-eun, the Korean, was the one to break the ice. "She almost looks like a foreigner, huh? Is she Li's girlfriend?"

Sakura replied with an apologetic smile. "I wonder so myself," and then she laughed nervously.

Missing you comes in waves, and tonight, I am drowning.

TUESDAY : NOON

Every muscle in Tomoyo Daidouji's body seemed to tense with a heavy mix of agony and panic. She gripped her glass and poured it with water. Her dainty, mildly shaking fingers clenched around it, and in one decisive motion, she drank every drop along the pills she had. There was a need to take painkillers – she just got her period cramps. Today, her mightiest foes would be her bundled nerves and her agitated emotions that seemed to ricochet from sorrowful to outraged.

She was donned in a plain, sleeveless navy blue dress designed with a high hem at the front and low hem at the back. She was rushing in the campus courtyard, yet unsure on where to go. Her next class wouldn't start within the next two hours. Her recent days have sprung much unrest and she wasn't even certain of the source.

"Sorry!" she accidentally bumped into someone, and all the papers clutched in her chest scattered on the ground. She knelt on the stone floor and hastily gathered them, as if she was running out of time. The person she crashed into aided the collection of her things. When he was done, he didn't utter a single word, and just simply handed them to her.

For a tiny moment there, Eriol Hiiragizawa had thought Tomoyo was actually glad to see him. They stood in front of each other for a long moment, neither spoke. He wore nothing of extravagance, just a simple black tee and jeans. He observed her rough posture, her disheveled bangs, and her eyes… her eyes were glassy, as though she was on the brink of tears. "You… okay?"

Ever since they broke up, she never had a decent conversation with him. He has been trying to reach out, in his own way, and she had shunned his efforts every time. She was too heartbroken to accept anything nice from him, she was too bitter. Today, though, when nothing was going right, she dared to be honest with him, just once. His question was so soft, it almost made her cry. "Not really," she furrowed her brows and looked away.

She stared at the grass, the passing students, the sky, anywhere but his eyes. That was when she felt a warm hand on her back, and he directed her to a bench nearby. She was seated under a weeping willow – its long, hanging leaves would shield her from the snooping crowd. They would have their privacy.

Eriol stood in front of her, he didn't enjoy seeing her like this. His gaze dropped in the middle of her collar bones, and she was instantly conscious. She wore her engagement ring in a white gold chain, unable to withstand it embracing her finger. Since she felt his eyes on it, she held it protectively, as if she didn't want her secret to be known. She saw his jaw clench, and he said, "stay here, I'll get you something to drink." His voice betrayed no hint of emotion.

"Hiiragizawa-san," she called him just before he went too far. "Can you… please… get…"

"Chocolates?" he guessed. Tomoyo cherished the smirk on his face, and then she nodded.

When he returned with a cold beverage and a chocolate bar, he had no intentions of asking about the ring on her neck. The fact that it wasn't around her finger meant he already had his answer. They sat quietly, and to her, it already felt like a really long discussion.

"You know…" his focus was fixed on the greens in front of them, and beyond them was a ton of passersby, unaware of their existence. He held a small curve in his lips and continued, "Even if we didn't break up, we would still be here… where we are now."

Tomoyo stopped munching on her chocolate to observe his wistful expression. She fully understood what he meant – they did plan to go to an impressive university in Kyoto, and they would probably be sitting together all the time. The fact that it wasn't their reality brought her varying degrees of anguish. The ache that seemed to follow her like a shadow overwhelmed her. "Being here with you now is quite ironic, really," she was sad, she was angry.

Eriol turned his head to face her and met her gaze. They were only a foot apart, but it felt more than that. He wanted to disagree but decided not to put it into words, instead, he chose to push her to talk more. "So, what's with the face?"

She didn't appreciate him changing the topic. She was only in this situation because he ended things with her. Her parents would have accepted him, then it's the two of them who would be in a long or short engagement, planning a big or small wedding. She cared not how he wanted it, so long as he vowed never to leave. Still, his last sentence made her mindful of her appearance. He was asking how she was, but nevermind. She squinted her eyes at him before she took out a hand mirror from her purse. Specks of chocolate marred her mouth.

The half-European lad watched her in amusement, how her amethyst orbs widened when she saw how disgusting she looked. "You haven't realized until now how you ungracefully devoured the –" her hand playfully slapped his upper arm. "Ow."

Before he could give her a handkerchief, he felt her head's weight on his shoulder. She hid her face behind the curtain of her unruly, thick, purplish black hair. "It's rainy season, Eriol, but why is there no rain today?" she whispered. "I want a storm to match my rage."

He didn't feel it was the proper time to ask every detail of her mixed emotions. She probably couldn't decipher them herself. He was satisfied just by hearing his name from her lips. Hence, they stayed still for a long while. When she got up, she wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands landing elegantly on his back. Her cheek was beside the nape of his neck. Eriol was shocked with the gesture, and what came after were words of desire and heartbreak. "Let's see each other again," she said, continuing to trap him in an embrace so he'd never have to see her face, "before I am married."

SATURDAY : AFTERNOON

Peizhi Peng, their guardian, beside a male mountain ranger, stood atop a clearing, looking out onto the mountain path down below. The interns were busy gathering samples from various plants and trees under her watchful eye.

"Excuse me!?" Shang Fu exclaimed in a seemingly offended tone. "This is my spot!" He was kneeling next to a small body of flowing water when Kang Ju-eun materialized at his right side and began amassing her own set of samples.

"You can have my previous post," she replied, not even bothering to give him a single look. When all she had for a response was threatening silence, she added, "Alright, I'll treat you to dinner."

Shang Fu crumpled his brows and scowled. "Dinner with you? No." A small smile, then, crept into his mouth. "Dinner with Kinomoto – yes."

Kang Ju-eun gave him a brief glare. She knew her roommate was pretty, but he didn't expect this guy would actually try his chances. She turned her head to take a glimpse of Sakura who was occupied with her own task. She was right beside her a few minutes ago and grew bored of the repetitive things she had seen. She grinned, "Deal!"

Sakura, donned in a blue tank top, and black and blue leggings, accidentally had her finger cut by a twig. "Ow," she whispered in surprise, and immediately attempted to suck the wound. A strong hand interrupted her, swatting her finger away from her face. She gazed up to see Shang Fu shaking his head.

"Nasty," he teased. "Clean it first," he said, and assisted her in rinsing it with the water from his bottle.

Fifteen minutes later, Peizhi Peng called the students, requesting all of them to climb to the clearing. Shang Fu, and the rest of the males, positioned themselves next to a tricky slope, ready to aid whoever might slip. Chia-yu Kao was the first to step on the slippery mud, and Guanlin Chen, a male Taiwanese, served his elbow for support. Followed suit were Nao Yokoyama and Kang Ju-eun. When it was Sakura's turn, Shang Fu extended his arm for her to reach. Just as she was about to grab it for an easier climb, her left hand was stolen by another, effortlessly pulling her up as if she was lightweight.

"Not gonna end up in the infirmary again, are you?" Syaoran whispered in her ear as soon as the two walked towards their guide.

Sakura abruptly gave him a fierce look before she turned her head to check if anyone was watching them. There was Shang Fu who stood behind the path, confused. She paid him no mind and returned her focus on the heir. "Jealous again, are you?"

"HA!" Stunned by her comeback, he was forced to exert a laughter so blunt, it sounded like he was insulted. He flicked the tip of her nose like he used to, and said, "Quit your nonsense. There was never a time like that." She rolled her eyes while she rubbed her nose, thinking him a liar.

In an organized circle, Peizhi Peng and the mountain ranger discussed the same safety protocols they taught this morning. Since their trek had come to an end, it was best to remind these students on how to alight the mountain properly. It would be best if they all end the day with no injuries.

SATURDAY : EVENING

At the foot of the mountain was a hotel owned by the Lis. It was a cabin inspired hotel, perfect for tourists who wanted to hike the mountain next to it. Everyone was assigned with their own room. Instantly after the formalities of dinner, Sakura, exhausted from the day's activities, retreated to her room. Not more than twenty minutes, there was already a knock on her door – a knock that did not sound very polite.

Annoyed, Sakura cracked the door open, knowing full well who her visitor was. "I wonder why you didn't use the master key, you practically owned the hotel," she said sarcastically. Since his knocking resonated like a demand, he might as well barge in.

Wearing a simple black tank top and olive-green shorts, Syaoran chuckled at her spiciness. He missed it. "That's actually a good idea. I'm sorry I didn't think of that," he had a thoughtful tone. He watched her insert her head through the doorway and peek from left to right. "Yeah, yeah," he uttered impatiently. "No one saw me," he speedily assured her, placing his palms on her shoulders to lightly force her back inside.

The hotel room was practically built in wood – from the floor, to the walls, to the ceiling. It was illuminated in aurous shades, coming from the bedside lamps. Syaoran kept an eye on her as she moved to the dresser table.

A brush in hand, she untangled her strands, still slightly wet from her evening shower. "You know… Tomoyo's engaged," she said, trying to avoid the topic of them. The way he carried her weight in the mountain brought up memories from their high school – timestamps of the past best kept there.

"I am not surprised," he replied simply, making his way to the bed, a foot beside the dresser table. "Her parents own a fucking huge toy company. People of the sort tend to marry off their kids early." He laid on the mattress like it was no big deal. He crossed his wrists behind his head, and he stared up at the ceiling.

Half surprised with his comment, curiosity flowed through her like a waterfall. She paused brushing and turned a bit sideways. "Is it… the same for you?"

Syaoran shot her a doubtful look. "Sort of," he answered, "but I have contingency plans." He returned his sight back to the ceiling, and dryly added, "Not gonna tell."

"Oh, c'mon!" Sakura slapped her brush on the surface of the table, quickly frustrated. She knew why he didn't want to disclose the details; he had made it clear in class last Monday! "Even if your mom straps me to a tree, I won't tell!" Sitting tightly in her seat, she picked up her brush again and relaxed. Through the mirror, she watched her animated face calm down. "Surely, you don't want to be married so young."

He mildly fidgeted on the sheets. "Depends. The right time to marry varies, and I think it mostly relies on the woman." Growing up did them good, he thought. They held better conversations. "I have a vague timeline in mind."

If she was curious before, she was nosier now. "What type of woman!?"

Upon hearing her question, the left end of his lips perked. He got up from his lazy position and sat on the side of the bed. His long limbs easily bridged the gap between them. His elbows perched atop his knees. He neared his mouth to her ear and whispered, "Don't tell me you're interested in my preference."

Sakura felt his warm breath on her cheek. "Um," she blushed hotly, and her gaze froze at her reflection. Fretting, her wit was failing her, and began to say the first thing that came to mind, "perhaps that lady who arrived from New York?"

After all this time, he could still make her flush. "What of Dandan Wong?"

Her brows knitted together and started contemplating of what to answer. Why did she mention her again? "Well, she's, uh, tall, beautiful –"

"There's more to a woman than just being tall and beautiful," his fingers came to her chin, tilting her head so she looked straight into his amber eyes.

Sakura's whole body was alert, a basket case of raveled emotions. Are they still chatting? It no longer felt like it! "Maybe if you… get to know her? Spend more time with her?" She got a bit angry at him for making her a rambling idiot. "Do those things you do."

He knew what she meant, but he'd rather her stop judging him as a playboy. "You mean like this?" Nevertheless, when he traced his lips down her throat, he's as guilty as charged.

"I don't know," she said, her voice betraying her. When he raised his eyes to hers, her cheeks were flushed. Red meant stop, but the red in her skin was definitely a 'Go' for Syaoran. With his strong arms, he hoisted her up and her legs somehow closed around his waist.

Sakura felt the softness of the beddings through her satin pyjamas, her dizzy head on the pillow. Half of Syaoran's face glowed under the golden lamp light, his head slanted, and she felt his kisses on her cheek, on her jaw, on her neck. A tight tremor of anticipation coiled its way down her spine at the same moment her stomach dipped with uncertainty. His right hand slid down to the waistband of her satin bottoms. His palm investigated the smooth skin underneath it, and then he squeezed her thigh.

His mouth, then, was on hers. It was warm and undeniably enticing. His weight was a shock as he pressed her into the mattress. His kisses were hard and overpowering. His tongue found hers, startling her. Sakura felt embarrassed of her inexperience, but she also felt something else – a flare in her stomach, a sense of pleasure. She shuddered, her fingers dug into his flesh. His head tilted, deepening the kiss, and then she became aware of his strong, solid, bulge between his legs.

Syaoran sharply inhaled and pushed himself up with as much control he could muster. "I'm sorry," he panted, fixing himself in a sitting position. His brows were furrowed, his eyes wild and on the brink of madness. He waited for a few seconds for him to regain his composure while he watched Sakura also get up from her own version of disorientation.

She sat across him; her in front of the huge, fluffy pillows, and him at the center of the bed. His ambers were still slightly widened, and he was annoyed at the heavy pounding in his chest. If he hadn't stopped on time, he would have done something offensive, he knew it. She wasn't ready for it. Why did he always have to force himself on her? It has grown into a bad habit.

Sakura's face was still somewhat flushed, her lips swollen, her eyes worried – worried for him. Sure, she had witnessed him out of breath and unarmed before, but never had she seen him so undone. "What's the matter?" she asked innocently, the same question and tone she had when she caught him standing in the rain after the failed soccer game.

Back then, during that fateful evening, Syaoran had only seen her as a dumb chick, too pretty for her own good; clueless and sheltered. In time, he learned she was far more than that. She was a precious pearl. Before he knew it, he was referring to her as warm tea and sweet home. "Ha," he smiled, his brows untangling, realizing all these without the bitterness of betrayal. In that moment, he had fully accepted that she came for him. For him. "I missed you." He didn't mean to express those words, but they just spilled.

Sakura's lips were parted. She was ogling at his handsome face too much and how he made her feel just now. That small smile on his face was so genuine, the most seductive form she had seen him in. She thought about it carefully and made peace with her decision – "I missed you, too," – he deserved as much.

"Come here," he stretched out his arm and offered his hand, as though he was a gentleman assisting a lady off a carriage. With that angelic smile on her face, she accepted it. He then pulled her onto his lap and her fingers immediately cupped the sides of his shoulders. She leaned closer to him and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. He closed his eyes and received it sincerely.

Everything else slowed down and went liquid. He made a harsh, low sound. His hands went to her satin blouse and began unbuttoning it, she tried not to freeze. They kept kissing, and it felt like a mountain slide, building momentum with every touch. His fingers slid on her skin when he took her top off, and she wriggled out of it. He pulled back to look at her. Before she was able to feel embarrassed for being studied, he proceeded to plant kisses on her throat, and followed the good trail down her naked flesh.

Syaoran laid her back down, her head on the pillow, long, auburn hair spilling like feathers. He discarded his tank top over his head in a single, elegant gesture, revealing bare skin and a broad chest. Sakura pulled him down over her, wanting more kisses, more of him. The hard ones a few minutes ago were replaced by soft, yearning ones, both equally irresistable and enticing.

They peeled off the rest of their clothing, tossing them, not caring where they landed. They were moving together, the only sound in the room were her soft sighs and his deep moans. It was exquisite, but she also felt an almost painful, coiling sensation. Syaoran worked her leisurely, considerate that it was her first time. The pressure inside her was building up and growing more potent each second.

Sakura didn't know how long they were doing it. The next thing she was aware of was their hot skin cooling, and their breathing slowing. He had let his weight be completely carried by the soft mattress; his muscles had relaxed. Before they drifted off to sleep, Syaoran made her promise one thing: "Don't forget this, Sakura."

The truth was – there was no telling what's going to happen tomorrow, the next month, the next year. The bedroom was dim, but she could still make out the intensity of his gaze, waiting for an answer. "I won't forget," she whispered. Wrapped in his strong arms, finally, exhaustion became sleep.

I want to stain your lips with my name, so even if years later we aren't kissing each other, men will still taste the love we had.

MERCHESHIRE'S NOTES:

I know I am avoiding the subject of language diversity. I'm avoiding it still. LOL! Let's just focus on the fluff and feels, huh? SORRY!

Rating advanced to M!