Chapter
Three:
Tomoyo looked around the airport
terminal, searching the crowd. She had two bags packed, enough clothes to last
her a week. Her purple eyes scanned every face that passed, every dark-haired
man. He was late. And she was beginning to get nervous.
"Tomoyo."
She stiffened momentarily and
then turned, ever so slowly.
Eriol stood behind her, a carry
bag thrown over one shoulder, another bag in his left hand. Next to him stood
Nakuru in her false form, long brown hair tied back into a full braid. And in
her arms she carried a tiny cage from which Spinel Sun peeked out.
But her eyes strayed to Eriol
and stayed on him, caught.
He smiled faintly at her, eyes
hooded. "It's been a while." He said quietly.
She found herself nodding
thoughtlessly. "Yes. Yes, it has." And she finally managed to pull her gaze
away and look toward Nakuru. "Konnichi wa, Nakuru." And she looked down at the
cage in her hands, "Oh, Suppi-chan! They have you locked up!"
Spinel Sun meowed, sounding just
as indignant as she.
"You poor thing…" Tomoyo reached
out and poked her fingers through the mesh, scratching the underside of Spinel
Sun's jaw.
Eriol glanced at Nakuru and
nodded faintly. "Well, our plane leaves soon. Perhaps we should get Spinel Sun
accustomed to flying without us?"
Tomoyo looked sad as Nakuru pulled
the cage back and then turned to wander off. Eriol watched her go off and then
slowly turned his attention back to Tomoyo who had put down her bags. "Looking
forward to the party?"
Tomoyo nodded slightly. "Very
much. It's been a while since I've seen Syaoran." She answered. "He didn't
sound very…together when we spoke last week. I'm worried about him."
Eriol nodded in understanding
and looked over his shoulder once more awkwardly.
You always worry about
everyone else…
"I don't regret what I said to
you. On the phone." He said quietly. He didn't meet her eyes, seemingly focused
on something off in the distance.
Tomoyo didn't reply to that,
bowing her head and looking at her bags.
"In fact, I've never meant
anything more." This time he did turn to face her but she didn't lift her gaze.
He cocked his head, trying to get a better look at her face. "And I still mean
it now."
Tomoyo swallowed, almost trying
to hide behind her hair. "Mean what?" she asked hoarsely.
Eriol gazed at her. "What I said
about me taking care of you." He answered her. And he lifted a hand, reaching
toward her chin.
She turned her head slightly, as
if to dodge his hand. But at the same time he knew she didn't want to. He felt
that she wanted him to touch her, wanted him to comfort her. His fingers came
in contact with her chin, thumb pressing against the softness of her bottom
lip. And she exhaled shakily through those lips, the gentle breath caressing
his fingers. He gazed at her solemnly, dark eyes lowering to her mouth. His
thumb lifted upward, pushing against her top lip and then slipping down the
curve to the corner of her mouth.
Her eyes met his and she stared
at him, looking absolutely frightened. It hurt, to see such a look of terror on
her face and to know that it was directed at him.
"I don't want to do this now.
Not again." She whispered, frame trembling faintly.
"If not now, when?" he asked her
softly.
She blinked slowly at his
question and then finally recoiled away from his touch, head bowing. "Never."
Eriol stared at her, fingers
still held out, pain flooding his body. A pure, hot agony that caused him to
stiffen to the point of breaking. His hand dropped away, falling to his side
and he also bowed his head.
"All right." He murmured. And he
nodded, mostly to himself. At least now he knew. He had always wondered why
they had broken apart, why she blamed herself. And now he knew that they wouldn't
be together. It was almost a strange relief, knowing the truth. And yet…
It hurt.
Tomoyo inhaled, making a small
noise and he felt, more than knew, that she cried. He kept his head down, not
wanting to look at her, not wanting to see the tears that had gathered and
fallen from her eyes. Maybe to allow her to save face. Or perhaps to allow
himself the same respect.
Out of the corner of his eye he
saw her come close and he caught her scent before he felt her. Lilac. Juniper.
A mixture of the two. It lifted from her long, dark hair, assaulted his senses.
And then she was lifting her hands to his face, standing on tiptoe to press a
small kiss to the corner of his lips. "I missed you…so much…" she whispered
against his jaw, her tears rubbing off on his own skin.
He dropped his bag, hands
lifting to grasp her wrists, and he turned his face, brushing the smallest kiss
against her lips. "I missed you just as much..." He replied gently and he
pulled her close, releasing her wrists to wind his arms around her, embracing
her to him tightly.
She allowed it, taking hold of his shirt with
frantic hands, molding herself to him. She felt as if she needed his warmth,
his strength. And yet she said, "We can't ever be, Eriol. We can't."
He frowned, not wanting to hear
it, not another excuse to rip them apart. Not then.
"It isn't fair to anyone.
Especially not to you." She said softly against his collar.
To me..?
"Because I wouldn't put all of
me into it. I can never give all of myself again, I can't." she shook her head
stiffly as if looking for another way to put it but she couldn't find other
words, couldn't make him understand. "I can't…"
He tightened his embrace,
willing her to stop, to stop saying what she was saying. And she seemed to
whimper against him, arms trembling from gripping his shirt so hard. He hesitated
before saying against her hair, "I want to take care of you. I want you to give
in…"
"I won't give in." she said and
she said it firmly even though she trembled. "I won't."
He felt her slipping away once
more, falling out of his grip. "Sakura wouldn't want this." He uttered. "She
wouldn't want you to be alone-"
"Sakura wouldn't want to be dead
right now." She replied and it was enough to freeze him in place. The iciness
in her tone as she had said it. When had she ever been so callous?
He suddenly felt very cold.
Stiffening, he released her, allowed her to step away. Her hands left his shirt
mangled, his heart even more torn. He stared at her and she didn't meet his
eyes, one clenched fist lifting to her mouth and wiping away fallen tears.
A loud, feminine voice suddenly announced
their flight and he almost didn't hear it through his haze. But he became aware
when she lifted her head and looked around.
"That's our flight." She said
quietly and she looked at him.
He averted his gaze after a
moment, blinking at his bag on the floor. How had that ended up there? Feeling detached
from his body he bent and took hold of his bag once more, straightening.
"What about Nakuru?" she asked
as he turned away slowly, heading for their gate.
"She'll catch up." He murmured
faintly and he left her gazing after him.