Everything was quiet on the Sakura front. She was genuinely surprised by the change in this man whom she thought was so set in his ways. Meeting him at the Louvre was almost fate, like it was her destiny to see him so vulnerable, and so expressive about art. And that particular vulnerable side was something she'd never believed existed from beyond the cold exterior that was Syaoran's usual self. She was brightened by these thoughts upon waking the next afternoon, to the warming sun crawling across her hotel window. Syaoran had promised to show her around Paris, for he had lived there for five years during school. Sakura was finally getting to see the Paris that only the locals knew…
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Syaoran awoke early, needing to make preparations for the day to come. He wasn't sure what exactly would come of the day, but he knew that this was his second chance, his time to redeem himself for the mishaps of yesteryear.
He promptly arrived at Sakura's hotel at 1:00, but upon arrival was given a card key to her room by the concierge, as she was still getting ready. She had called down instructing him to make his way up to her room. Taking the stairs to get some exercise, he tried to decide if her wish for him to come up was a good or bad thing. Lost in thought, he arrived at her door sooner than he expected. He slowly brushed his hand through his hair, a signature nervous-Sakura move, took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Sakura was running around in a bathrobe, hair wrapped in a towel. He tried to stop himself from laughing at the cute sight she made, but couldn't bother to conceal his amusement. At the sound of his deep voice, Sakura immediately ceased all activity and laughed along with him.
"Do you need help?" Syaoran casually asked, trying to relax.
"Sure, just stay where you are - okay?" She opened the mirrored closet to him, so that she was hidden behind the massive door. She discarded her robe, and proceeded to try on her clothes, totally oblivious to his sudden discomfort. Syaoran simply hoped she didn't notice his heart leaping out of his chest every time she disappeared behind the door, he knowing that she was in a state of complete undress on the other side. He had seen other woman seductively strip for him, models change in front of him, but none of that compared to this desire. 'They' finally chose a strategically placed sundress that accentuated her features tenfold. Finally, at about 1:45, they left the hotel.
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They did not go unnoticed by Tomoyo, whose suspicions were proven about the reason of Sakura's bounce in her step at breakfast this morning. It knew it would happen eventually, it was only a matter of time… she silently smirked to herself.
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Syaoran's plan was thus: To rent a moped for two and ride along the most beautiful sites Paris had to offer, stopping anywhere Sakura's heart desired. This was a day to please her, and her happiness would then complete his own. In those long months they had been apart, he'd realized that he had fallen deeply in love with Sakura. Ever since the moment they first talked on the phone on that fateful summer day he had wanted her for his own. Having her arms wrapped tightly around his waist sent shivers up his spine - her every move caused his heart to quiver with sheer rapture of being in her company.
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Sakura, similarly, was having a wonderful time. She was having more fun than she had had in years, certainly since she had become a model. Her excitement showed, as they stopped at just about every orchard to simply lie down and feel complete oneness with the world. At the stone churches and abandoned villages on the outskirts of Paris, Sakura found the most beauty. She disliked the overcrowding of the main city, wishing that Syaoran and she could just explore the provinces alone, without any interruptions. Syaoran's hand brushed hers ever so slightly when they were walking, and she finally grew bold and slipped her hand into his, surprising them both.
His amber eyes caught her emerald ones, searching, asking, pleading for her closeness, and hoping that he could have more than just her hand. A holy palmer's kiss is what he wants, I'm quite sure, Sakura mentally quoted. I don't know if I can give myself to him yet. I'm not ready, nor fully convinced...Give me time, Syaoran, give me time, she in turn pleaded with her own beautiful jewels of eyes. In response he brushed his lips delicately against her hand, sending her sensations unknown to her before.
Before anything could go any further, the bushes surrounding them erupted with camera flashes, snapping the two out of their pleasant reverie. Sakura gasped and Syaoran gathered her in his arms, only succeeding in making it more obvious to the paparazzi that they were star lovers begging for news time. And Syaoran knew this would be top news in the fashion industry, as rumors were already flying as to who had stolen the infamous Syaoran Li's heart. Everyone, judging from Meilin's first hand experience, knew he was currently off the market. And with these candid photographs the rumor mill would head in a different direction - somewhere juicier and far more scandalous than Meilin Li: Sakura Kinomoto. A picture certainly was worth a thousand words, and Syaoran was sure there would be at least three damning photographs in all the star magazines in the morning.
Silently cursing himself for getting them in a situation where they could not back out, he managed to escape the hounding paparazzi and speed off on their moped before anyone could catch up.
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Sakura was upset. Her happy day was ruined by her stardom, something that she had completely forgotten about while in the company of Syaoran. Her Syaoran, she thought possessively. He does love me, I hope. But she drove that wayward thought out of her mind, persuading herself that his attentions were simply the consequence of his new self. Sakura refused to hold out false hopes.
They ate a simple dinner in a tiny local café, sipping coffee and speaking of nothing in particular. The earlier mood had begun to creep up on them again, Syaoran noticing Sakura's desire to be near him. She now immediately sought out his hand, sometimes even before they began to get off the bike. She unknowingly stood closer to him, not protesting when he put a hand on her shoulder, even sometimes massaging her tense muscles while touring more and more of the beautiful countryside Syoaran knew so well.
Finally, when it was too dark to ride anymore, they decided to stay over in a small cottage inn. Goodnight was slow, with Syaoran repeating the gesture of the morning; dropping butterfly kisses upon her hand. Sakura yearned for his lips, but could not submit to captivity. He stroked her face, brushing away errant strands of her hair, his breathing becoming ragged as he moved closer for a kiss.
Sakura was locked in his caressing gaze and involuntarily took his wandering hand, kissing every finger, gently and thoughtfully, all the while never breaking the eye contact. She could feel Syaoran's chest shudder as she did this, his breath hot on her face, her breasts tenderly pressed against his torso making him unbelievably aware of her body at that moment.
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Syaoran wanted to take her, wanted her to be his in a way that would be purely his own, but he knew that his desire would scare her. His brain kept reminding him, "go slow, don't be too fast…" Syaoran slid his arms around Sakura, timidly discovering her dips and hollows for the first time. Her body felt magnificent under his calloused hands, like unblemished silk, sacred and wonderful. Sakura was slowly submitting to his overwhelming desire, a heat beginning to simmer where she never felt one before. She yearned for him desperately, needing him, as she had never wanted to need anyone before. He unlocked his door, and guided her to his bed. A brief hesitation asserted itself, then died as he levered her down upon the soft white pillows. He took care in positioning his partial weight above her, one leg familiarly between hers. The whole time, their eyes never faltered from each other, an unspoken truce made purely by their desire. Finally pleased with the new position, Syaoran continued to stroke her hair absentmindedly. She turned her head, allowing him access to loosen her hair from its confines, and, unwittingly, to her neck as well. He persisted with his butterfly kisses upon her hands, slowly moving up her arm, to arrive at her sensitive neck. Sakura gasped as he placed gentle, wet kisses, tickling her in the process. Finally bold enough, Syaoran began to apply his caressing kisses everywhere on her face, her forehead, her eyes, her nose, her cheeks and finally, her lips. He allowed himself a quick glance to her beautiful eyes, and sensing no resistance there, proceeded. The first touch was a simple brush, sending shocks of electricity through both their bodies. Syaoran then began to apply pressure to his brushes as his ardor swelled. His lips intimately caressed her own, causing her to moan slightly into his mouth. Encouraged, he submitted to his desire, parting her sweet lips, contacting her tongue. However she was succumbing to his own yearnings, she had yet to kiss him back, allowing him all the work. This confused him, but he continued to kiss her, not wanting to think about her feelings at this moment. He was willing her to lie to him, a lie they both could live with. But his new self knew that he needed to stop, needed to discuss this with her before he could go on. He couldn't take her if he thought she wasn't willing. But before he could begin to part from her sweet mouth, he felt her small hands pushing up on his chest, breaking their kiss.
"Syaoran…I can't. I'm not ready. I don't know if you love me." And when he tried to speak to reveal his unrelenting love for her, she pressed a slender finger to his lips.
"Don't respond now when you have me where you want me. Don't even tell me tomorrow. Make me believe you are in love, if you truly are. I need to know." Sakura was certain now that she loved Syaoran, but was unwilling to relent to her desires, even for one night of perfect bliss. With a groan, he levered himself off her warm body, unwilling to part with her tenderness until he was completely satisfied. However, he needed to respect the wishes of this princess that fused her passion with his. She kissed his cheek goodnight, and returned to her room. Syaoran was left alone again, yearning for a woman who was in the next room, so close, yet so far. That night, again his dreams were free of the mysterious woman that he loved so dear.