Omg thank you SO much for the review Natalie! You're such a sweetheart! I
thought no one would review it and so that's why I really didn't work on it
much! Thanks a bunch- this one's for you, hun! (
"Who was he?" Haruka spoke in Italian. Michiru turned towards *him*, her eyes widening. "You know Italian." Her eyes blinked, surprised. "Yea, I do. My parents don't though. And you'll have to learn Spanish sooner or later. Answer my question: who was that man?" "No one you need be concerned with." Michiru turned her face away. Fernando was an old friend. They used to be lovers. Michiru always loved that kiss. He was a very nice man, but married. And Michiru knew that she did not truly love him, but she wanted to see Haruka's reaction to it anyways. "Yes I do need to be concerned with him. Right after my marriage, someone just going up to you and kissing you like that? Who the hell is he?" "A good, supportive friend." Michiru turned her face to Haruka and gave her the full blown impact of her features. Haruka felt himself tightening inside. He glared at her back. "You are MY bride, MY wife- and the soon-to-be queen of Spain. I have every right to know." "I gave you my answer, love." Michiru's sweet voice melted with sarcasm. "He is just a good friend." "Is that how you treat all of your supposedly friends?" A smirk crossed Haruka's face. Michiru blushed. "How dare he think that Ami, Minako. and I. ohhh I hate him! I hate him!" "What, no comeback? Is the ice-princess speechless?" "You have NO right to speak to me like that!" Michiru clenched her small elegant hands into hard fists. "I can call you whatever I want, LOVE." Haruka smirked. Michiru pursed her lips. "Don't-think-you-can-do-whatever-you-want. I am not your slave." "We'll see about that." Haruka's icy, calm voice shattered Michiru's self-confidence. She glared at him and then the sudden realization of his beauty struck her. Everything about him was so damn elegant, so damn poised. Michiru wanted to wring out that neck in front of her. She herself was very elegant, the most elegant women in Italy, but she did not feel comfortable with this arrogant, goddamn gorgeous man next to her. And he said he'd make her his slave. Michiru shuddered, but one side of her was excited to feel what he might do, and the other was frightened out of its mind. "Just wait till we get to Spain," Michiru thought. "I'll show him!"
"Who was he?" Haruka spoke in Italian. Michiru turned towards *him*, her eyes widening. "You know Italian." Her eyes blinked, surprised. "Yea, I do. My parents don't though. And you'll have to learn Spanish sooner or later. Answer my question: who was that man?" "No one you need be concerned with." Michiru turned her face away. Fernando was an old friend. They used to be lovers. Michiru always loved that kiss. He was a very nice man, but married. And Michiru knew that she did not truly love him, but she wanted to see Haruka's reaction to it anyways. "Yes I do need to be concerned with him. Right after my marriage, someone just going up to you and kissing you like that? Who the hell is he?" "A good, supportive friend." Michiru turned her face to Haruka and gave her the full blown impact of her features. Haruka felt himself tightening inside. He glared at her back. "You are MY bride, MY wife- and the soon-to-be queen of Spain. I have every right to know." "I gave you my answer, love." Michiru's sweet voice melted with sarcasm. "He is just a good friend." "Is that how you treat all of your supposedly friends?" A smirk crossed Haruka's face. Michiru blushed. "How dare he think that Ami, Minako. and I. ohhh I hate him! I hate him!" "What, no comeback? Is the ice-princess speechless?" "You have NO right to speak to me like that!" Michiru clenched her small elegant hands into hard fists. "I can call you whatever I want, LOVE." Haruka smirked. Michiru pursed her lips. "Don't-think-you-can-do-whatever-you-want. I am not your slave." "We'll see about that." Haruka's icy, calm voice shattered Michiru's self-confidence. She glared at him and then the sudden realization of his beauty struck her. Everything about him was so damn elegant, so damn poised. Michiru wanted to wring out that neck in front of her. She herself was very elegant, the most elegant women in Italy, but she did not feel comfortable with this arrogant, goddamn gorgeous man next to her. And he said he'd make her his slave. Michiru shuddered, but one side of her was excited to feel what he might do, and the other was frightened out of its mind. "Just wait till we get to Spain," Michiru thought. "I'll show him!"