Sakura awoke to the gentle vibrating of her phone. She had completely forgotten, during the night's activities, to notify Tomoyo of the change in plans. Checking her messages groggily, she was accosted by a very distressed Tomoyo whom in her complete and utter anxiety left twenty communiqués on her cell. She apprehensively left her own message on Tomoyo's cell, assuring her that she was safe, and not in some ditch in Albania, as seemed to be the focus of Tomoyo's anxiety. After this brief explanation she padded into the bathroom to freshen up. In the shower, her thoughts traveled back to the past night's events. How could I have done that? Now he thinks that I love him. And I do, but I don't know if I can be with him. She knew, in her heart of hearts, that even though Syaoran seemed to have changed, she couldn't completely disregard his past life. It would be impossible. How could she live with the prospect that her lover had sexual relations with other women? Come on, Sakura. Be strong. You may have lost your heart, but you haven't lost your self-restraint. With these progressive thoughts she got dressed.
"This is going to be a long day," she muttered to herself.
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Syaoran was in the same state of disarray just next door. He desperately wanted to prove his love, wanted to be with her, but there wasn't anything that he could do. He didn't know how he could survive a day of being near her without touching, holding or kissing her. Just her scent drove him wild with desire. Love was an understatement. He simply worshipped her. He didn't feel that the word love, which he had used for so many things, ranging from the condition of his pizza to his sunglasses could actually begin to describe the way he felt for Sakura. And she is only seventeen, he kept reminding himself, so young.
Breakfast was a quiet affair. The vivid memory of being in each other's arms kept them silent, they afraid to reveal too much. They rode together in silence, the spell of yesterday broken. Sakura almost reached for Syaoran's hand, as if out of habit, but discontinued her movement before it went too far.
Meanwhile, Syaoran reeled with emotion when she linked her arms around him on the moped. Numerous times he was close enough to kiss her, almost as if she was leaving herself open for the opportunity. His lips yearned for her taste, wanting her lips red and swollen from his powerful kiss once again.
But soon they were back at Sakura's hotel, Syaoran escorting her up the elevator. Before they got to her door, he took her hand. Sakura, surprised by his gesture, stood dumbly and waited, too afraid to do anything that might encourage his behavior further.
"S…Sakura, I…" Syaoran sighed, unable to finish his sentence. Sakura noticed the pained expression in his eyes, but tried her best to ignore it, unwilling to succumb to her desire.
"Syaoran, shhh. Don't say anything now." She punctuated her words with her hand, as she stroked his face lovingly. Unbidden tears sprang to his eyes, and he turned away, not wanting Sakura to see the pain he felt. She gently caressed his chin, and turned him to face her, and met his lips with hers. He tried to kiss her with all the passion he felt, as if his life depended on it, where it was almost too intense. Sakura sighed, softly pushing him away.
"Goodbye Syaoran, thank you for a wonderful time. Perhaps another time…?" And with that promise, Sakura quickly turned and left the hall, wanting to be alone to ponder her feelings.
"Je t'aime, Sakura, Je t'aime," Syaoran whispered, finally finding the words to express the pureness of his love for Sakura. At least she will be in Paris for a while. Even unfulfilled as he was, his heart soared with the endless possibilities that were in store for her. She will fall in love with me in Paris; it is the city of romance. And on that note, he glided happily out of the hotel, more exultant than he had been in years.