Author's Notes: Hi! Happy Thankgiving Day everyone! I'm sitting here blasting out my ear drums with
Pucchimoni music! Hehe! Best band ever! ^_^;; Don't refer me to a therapist. I'll get better soon.
Enjoy!

Tell her 'I'm Sorry...'

Chapter 7

Rated R


It was Monday.
The... incident... was on Wednesday night.
Mamoru had stayed home from work and took care of her on Thursday.
He brought her home on Friday.
Saturday they went to the gym together.
Sunday, the same. But she also saw a doctor and filed a police report. Plus she was forced
to explain everything to her parents.
But today was Monday.
And Mamoru was at work.
Mamoru, the same heartless, rude cad Usagi had exchanged many a blow with, was the same
man who coddled her and held her hand.
Held her hand as she puked behind a tree.
Held her hand when she was at the gynocologist. Stood close to her head with his eyes closed
as to not make her feel even MORE uncomfortable.
Held her hand as she was pummeled with questions by the police.
Held her hand as her parents nearly had nervous breakdowns.
Hands.
They were such plain, everyday parts of the anatomy.
And yet, the thought of Mamoru's hands had Usagi's pulse racing.
She flushed and shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Usagi gathered her belongings and
left the gym.
With no hand to hold.
Usagi desperately tried to push Mamoru out her mind. The last thing she needed to think
about was another man.
Usagi ran her fingers through her odango-styled hair and made her way to Juuban park.
She missed the feel of HIS fingers running through her hair.
"UGH!" Usagi screeched, tugging at her hair. "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!"
Usagi seethed, not noticing the odd glances in her direction. She stormed off into the
park. Her dash slowed to a walk and then to a forced trudge. She eyed one of the trees, her
stomach churning.
He had held her hand...
Usagi bit her lip. She examined her hands carefully. What was so special about hands? Nothing,
that's what. Then why was she going BONKERS over the feel of Mamoru's?!
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Usagi jumped out of her skin.
"GAH!!" Usagi whipped around. "What's your damage?! I told you to stop sneaking up on me
two days ago!"
"I thought that was a spur of the moment thing..." Mamoru eyes trailed to his left, as if
in deep thought about Usagi's reaction. He shrugged, coming up with no explanation. Usagi sighed.
"Well, it wasn't." Usagi leaned against a near by tree and slumped her shoulders.
"How was your workout? The doctor said you shouldn't be straining yourself so hard."
"I know..." Usagi fidgeted as Mamoru stepped infront of her. He stood at arms length, his
palm pressed against the part of the tree next to Usagi's head. "How was work? You got out early..."
She hated small talk. She was always so uncomfortable with such subjects. They always winded
up becoming personal questions that she'd rather not talk about.
"Eh... I'm gonna work at home tomorrow..." Mamoru gazed at Usagi questioningly, as if
asking if that was OK. "That way... If you..."
"Need your help?" Usagi huffed. "I'll be fine," she bit out, turning her head from him.
Mamoru shrugged, trying to pretend he wasn't affected by her words. He murmered, "sorry
for caring..." and let his hand drop from the tree.
Usagi mentally kicked herself for being so rude. She quickly focused all attention back to
Mamoru. She slowly reached out and took Mamoru's hands in hers. Mamoru blinked.
"Mamoru... Why...?" Usagi stopped herself, unsure of what to ask. "I... I mean..."
"What...?" Mamoru took another step towards Usagi, her back pressed against the tree. His
heart sped up as their chests brushed. "What is it...?"
"WHY do you care so much...?" Usagi tore her eyes from the joining of their hands and craned
her neck up to meet his gaze.
"Because..." Mamoru inhaled deeply. "I... understand what it's like to be in a tough
situation... And I just want you to be happy..."
"I'm OK." Usagi smiled shakily. "I'm just going to push this all aside and move on with my
life... Never think about it again."
"That's exactly what I DON'T want!" Mamoru's eyes were wild and hard. He gripped her hands
tightly, forcing her farther back against the tree. "You're obviously still hurt by all of this, Usa!"
Usagi's ears twitched at his knickname for her. "I don't want you to just bury this deep down and
pretend it's not there!"
"Mamoru," Usagi protested. "I WANT to forget about this! If I just forget than-"
"Than you'll have to carry it around with you the rest of your life!" Mamoru's expression
softened, his grip loosening. "I never talked to ANYONE about my parents..." His voice was hushed,
barely above a whisper. "And I still think about it everyday. I may not remember them, but they
were my parents..."
Usagi couldn't find the strength to cry. Her eyes felt as if she had sand in them, unable
to tear.
"It's true..." Usagi croaked, "It still hurts... And it probably always will... But I don't
have to cry anymore..."
I CAN'T cry anymore... she added to herself silently.
"If you EVER need me," Mamoru breathed, "I'll be here... I'll always be here for you, Usa...
ALWAYS..." He brushed his lips against Usagi's forehead.
"A few days ago we hated eachother..." Usagi chuckled dryly.
"I don't know about you," Mamoru replied, covering the burns on her wrists so he didn't have
to think about it, "but I never hated you..."
Usagi cocked her head to the side. "Oh? Then why the relentless teasing?"
He smirked. "Didn't your mother ever tell you, when a guy teases you, it means he likes
you?" The blonde blushed furiously. "Or... In this case..."
Mamoru leaned down and kissed Usagi's cheek. He pressed his lips against her ear and
whispered huskily, "it means he loves you..."
Usagi's whole body stiffened. All the blood rushed to her face, making her eyes pound
and the rest of her body numb. Then, just as quickly as it happened, the color drained from her
features and oozed throughout the rest of her body, leaving her face cold. Her heart pounded three
times, skipped two beats, and switched places with her stomach. Her mind swilred. She felt as if
paint had been splattered all over her, leaving her in a daze and disconnected.
"You..." Usagi's voice wavered to all different levels. "You don't love me..." She numbly
shook her head and pushed Mamoru away from her. "Don't tell me you do when you don't..."
Mamoru's laugh was raw and strained. He flashed her a cocky grin. "You think I'm lying?"
His breathing was shallow as his throat tightened. "I assure you, Usako, I'm not lying..."
Usagi clenched her fists tightly. She set her jaw, trying not to scream... or sob. She
could hardly find her voice.
"Don't call me that..." she hissed. Usagi spun on her heel and began exiting the park.
"Is that your answer to everything?!" Mamoru hollered to her back. Usagi froze. "Just
run away?! Well, that's a real SHITTY strategy, Usa!!"
Usagi's mind chorused over and over again.
The young girl slowly turned to face him briefly. Every action seemed to be draining whatever
energy she had left.
"You don't..." Usagi's voice cracked, making her unable to finish her sentence.
Her gaze met Mamoru's for a split second, and she knew there was no point in finishing
her statement. Then she would be the one lying... He may be able to claim with his voice he loved
her, but the concern and hurt in his eyes... You can't lie with your eyes...
Usagi was infront of Mamoru again in a second, her hands splayed out across his chest. She
pushed herself upwards and crushed her lips against his. Mamoru went rigid, his body overdosing
on it's own adreniline. Her could feel her lips caressing his own, her body pressed against him,
her hands over his chest.
He was amazed how he could feel her petite hands through the cloth of his shirt. Feel
her palms. Fell all ten of her fingers. Feel her hands clench, griping fistfulls of his shirt.
But, most of all, he could feel her lips. She had shoved herself on him roughly at first,
but now the kiss had turned soft and chaste. It lasted for what seemed like centuries, but ended
too soon.
Usagi quickly broke away and spun the other direction. Mamoru watched in a daze as his
love exited the park, mind as blurry as his own.
The raven-haired man smirked.



Author' Notes: Well, that was crappy. Sorry guys! But, it IS Turkey Day, after all! And my Pucchimoni
music is getting to my head... ^_^;; I think I might start Chapter 8, but it won't be posted till
tomorrow, k? Tata!!