Tra la la la la! I know I said I was retiring from FF..... But I got thinking about how going away to college was going to leave most (*coughs* OK, ALL) of my stories undone. So I decided that, just for you poor, pitiful Sailor Europa fans (all three of you), I would do my best to finish up my favorite stories, i.e., all of them. I have such a conceited, narcissistic love for all my work that I will give it my all and try to get them done. I know that if I DON'T, I will probably spend a lot of time in college finishing them in my mind. And I want to focus on school while I'm there (IT'S TRUE!). So, here is chapter 5 of 'Rouge'. It's finally hit a crucial point, and there is only a couple of ways it can go from here. Any of you who know me, know which way that will, inevitably, be. But still, feedback is appreciated. And hopefully you all will enjoy!
ropachan@cox.net
cielenvoye@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/sailorananke/
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'Rouge'
Chapter 5
By Sailor Europa
It had been years since Usagi had been out like this.
It wasn't that she didn't leave her apartment. No, she simply wasn't used to feeling so exposed. It felt unnatural, somehow. She obviously had to shop at the grocery, pick up dry-cleaning, make bank deposits. But this was different; this was social.
She tugged at the hem of her peach cardigan sweater as she walked. Mamoru had asked her to meet him at a cozy little coffee shop around his school. She knew where it was. She had never been there personally, but she'd passed it. She reminisced of how upon her first arrival in Amsterdam, she dreamed of sitting under the canopies and sipping tea from tiny little shops like this. But now she wouldn't dream of it; she was afraid of soiling the pure white that seemed to just overflow from these establishments. She didn't feel like she fit in with this crowd anymore; Usagi now belonged to the seedy, dark and noisy night club sect. And they had welcomed her so unabashedly. It seemed they accepted just about anybody.
She was afraid now that she would stick out like a sore thumb; that the stout, elderly owners would shake their salt & pepper heads as soon as she entered. They'd know instantly what kind of girl she was. She was scared to death of being found out. She was sacred to death of not fitting in.
Everything within her had begged her lips to decline from Mamoru's offer the night before. Even now she thought of standing him up; even as she approached the very address that he was already waiting for her at, she had fleeting thoughts of retreating. Maybe if she did, he'd never come back. Maybe he would see he'd made a mistake and just wash his hands of her all together. To be honest, she had no idea why she was even here. It was clear that she really didn't belong in this world; these people could not be human. At least, not the same kind as her.
But just the stitches of memory that wove through her mind from the previous evening tainted her better judgment and common sense. When she closed her eyes the feeling of his gentle fingers on her face shut down all her other faculties; it was as if she was paralyzed. It scared her; no man, no matter how intimate they had become, had ever made her body feel that way. Sexuality and commonplace arousal were normal for her; it didn't take much to awaken her body. But her mind was so alert, she realized, when Mamoru was within proximity. And something inside her felt like it was blossoming - to the point where it filled her inner cavity and threw out everything else. She was frightened. Frightened of being hurt, of hurting him, of feeling too much, too soon.
She could already see the back of his head from where she stood on the other side of the street. The rickety cobblestones were all that kept her from him now. She swallowed hard, envious of how picture perfect he looked, sitting with his legs crossed at a wrought iron table, sipping a large mug of coffee. He looked classic; she felt so out of place already, and she hadn't even formally arrived. Every instinct told her to flee, before he turned around and saw her. But she thought about how he had come to her side, without fail. He never promised or committed to anything; and yet he was always there. It was an unspeakable comfort that had become a firm foundation in so short a time. He had made a simple request; she would feel even worse if she didn't fill it. After all he'd done for her. She had to do this for him.
She took one last breath and jogged hurriedly across the street, her eyes stationary. She stared at his silky strands of raven hair like the tape at the end of a race; if she didn't watch the goal, she knew she'd bow out for fear of failure. But even as she neared, her pulse quickened. Why had she come again? More importantly, why had he come? Why did he feel the need to see her anymore? This was insanity; she should just go.
But fate had a different idea in mind, as just as she had had enough and paused to rethink her plans, Mamoru's head ducked downwards and he retrieved a fallen napkin. In the process, however, caught a sliver of a glance of a blonde bun and swiveled immediately. Usagi's heart shook and trembled as if in an earthquake waiting for his reaction. Without missing a beat, he stood; he'd hoped the smile was sincere enough to dispel the anxiety written all over her face. She felt her body relent and give in to her hearts desire to stay.
"I was starting to think you wouldn't show." He said softly once she had set her bag tentatively down on the glass table top with a dull thud. She blushed, ashamed she'd given him cause to doubt her. He instantly made her want to be a better person. It seemed that just impressing him with something small was satisfying enough.
"I don't know why I did." She replied, clasping her hands in her lap. She clutched her fingers together tightly, nervously. He didn't even have to look down before he instinctively grabbed a wrist and laced his own strong digits into her own. Her neck felt tight and it rose upwards steadily as he looked at her.
"I don't know either." He spoke lowly, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear this confession. "I'm so glad you did, though."
Her heart was thumping madly into her rib-cage within moments, and she felt light headed. She wasn't sure what was going on inside her body. It was entirely possible, she thought to herself, that this was what all little girls dream of. She could very well be falling for this man, learning to trust him. But, she reminded her foolish heart, that Mamoru, this gentle, handsome, honest man, would never return it. She was a whore, and she had to remember that. She would not let her trust be dashed to bits by a common Jon.
She ducked her head quickly to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks. She wasn't accustomed to this openness. Physically, it was a second nature, but there were times when she knew without a doubt that words were much harder to take back. It was so easy to express your feelings with touch; but when you spoke phrases of and with such tenderness, you either had to really believe them, or know you were lying. Usagi was deathly afraid of both. She didn't believe herself good enough for love, but she wanted it so badly; which left her open and vulnerable for rejection. And in her profession, that wasn't uncommon.
"Do you want anything?" Mamoru asked, sitting down across the table from her. "Coffee? Tea? A sandwich?" She thought for a moment, before realizing she didn't have any money on her. She wouldn't be paid until tonight, and she hadn't a chance to grab some cash before leaving in such an anxious haste. She could feel her cheeks redden again and decided to decline.
"No, thanks. I'm fine." She said quietly. As if to torture her, however, her stomach shook quietly, and she scrunched up her nose in mock anger. She'd hardly been able to eat anything earlier; her thoughts were running over every possible scenario that might play out during this meeting. Now, as it stood, she was regretting that.
"Are you sure?" Usagi looked up in shock. His head was tilted to the side in suspicion, and she blinked. It was as if he had eavesdropped on the whole conversation she'd had in her head. She didn't reply out of shock and this only received a playful grin from Mamoru. "Aha. I thought so."
He fingered a waiter that was passing by and spoke without even consulting her.
"I need a refill, and the lady will have a hamburger, fries and coffee." He looked back at her easily, as if she had consented to this. "Cream or sugar?"
Usagi nodded numbly, unsure how to react. She knew that many women would have been offended; not only had he second guessed her, but he took the liberty of choosing what she would eat too. But in truth, a burger was exactly what Usagi was craving. She had a wild appetite, compensated by periods of wild activity to burn all the energy off. However, since undertaking her current lifestyle, she rarely went out to eat. She knew that there were plenty of places that she would be welcomed; the girls at work were gracious enough to invite her with them every so often. But she always declined. The world they lived in was never appealing to her; all the others in the club embraced this destiny they chose. Usagi felt trapped, suffocated by this life. Being out like this was a breathe of fresh air.
She glanced down at her hands that were now fidgeting wildly once the waiter had left. Mamoru was setting his paper aside, and Usagi chewed on the side of her mouth nervously. She wasn't good at small talk, but she couldn't imagine what other kind of conversation might take place. But she hated having to chatter aimlessly; she did it often, but it was never by choice. She always thought she had to fill the silent void she often felt confined by whenever she was in situation, which, in truth, wasn't that often.
Mamoru was staring intently at her, maybe expecting her to say something. She grew uncomfortable and anxious to break the force he had over her.
"This is a nice place." She said cheerfully, pulling away from his gaze and taking in the décor around her. His shoulders sagged a bit, but he nodded in agreement.
"It's a lot quieter than the places I usually wind up in." He gave a wry smile as punctuation, and she could tell he wanted to expound on that, but held back. "I come here every once and while just to wallow in the sound of silence." She smiled easily, glad to have the heat off of her for once. Before he had a chance to move the conversation back onto her, she probed a bit more.
"You're more accustomed to noise?"
"I'm staying in a youth hostel with a handful of rowdy college guys." He raised a suggestive eyebrow and rolled his eyes. She erupted with a round of giggles that caused an immediate smile to appear on his lips. He hadn't heard that come from her before; he decided she needed to do it, and often. And when he was around to hear it. "I'm sure you can imagine just how loud that building can get sometimes."
"Oh, I don't need to imagine. About this time of year we always have rush from the University at the club...." She trailed off, immediately cursing herself for mentioning work again. His smile dropped like a stone and another intent look replaced it. She flushed hotly, knowing that she had just moved the conversation into dangerous territory.
"I'm sorry." He said. She exhaled and looked down, wondering when he would begin to chastise her again. She opened her mouth, but he forged ahead with his thought. "I don't like any of the guys I room with. They treat me like an outsider because I don't engage in their activities. But I take for granted the respect they automatically have for me just because I'm a man." His gaze softened, and it looked to Usagi like even he was affected by this frightening subject matter. "I don't even want to know how they act with you...."
The way he said "you" sounded so personal and it made Usagi's skin tremble. He wasn't talking about the girls at the club in general. She knew instinctively that he meant her and her alone. Something about it made her say things she knew she would regret....
"It's not so bad." She laughed, knowing how hollow and fake it sounded, even to her own ears. "Every body has bad days at their job, you know?" She picked at her napkin without looking at him. She wasn't sure she could take the look he must be giving her. "I mean, I think most of the frat boys treat us no worse than they treat the sorority girls they pick up on a regular basis back home. The only difference is they buy those girls with drinks and cheesy pick up lines." She laughed at herself, realizing that he hadn't joined in. "It's probably a relief to just lay down a couple hundred bucks without saying a word."
Mamoru's heart was simultaneously constricting and pounding as he listened to her go on about her job as if it were just another career choice. Discussing the pros and cons.... It made him sick. He could tell, as she prattled on aimlessly though, that there was something deeper, a niggling in her expression, in the way her brow was knitted together, that she disliked it even more than he did. He wondered if it made her nauseous every time she had to go back to that club, if she laid awake at night thinking about how queasy this lifestyle made her.
"But they use you." He stopped her with that. She finally looked at him, and they both realized at the same time that her eyes were brimming with tears. She laughed as a couple fell silently to the table cloth.
"That's what I'm here for." The reply was wooden, and Mamoru wondered if it was said more to convince her, than him. He pictured her telling herself that after each man threw the bills on the nightstand.
"Your purpose in life is not to please every random guy who has a hundred bucks to blow." His voice rose with an anger directed towards the whole system, at every guy who thought of Usagi that way. "It's sick. It's sick and it's wrong that there are men that think that. And what's worse, that they've got you believing it."
"How do you know it's not true?" Usagi was becoming just as upset, but she couldn't seem to muster the rage and fury that the opposition managed. He glowered at her, and she knew that the honest question wasn't going to be answered. She rambled without thinking. "How do you know that God didn't put me on this earth for that purpose?" She could see those hazy, drunken eyes, the ones that frequented her fathers worn, leathery face with more consistency before he finally threw her onto the streets. Each time his knuckles connected with her jaw, his palm with her cheek she felt worthless; but here, now, she had a purpose.
"Do...do you honestly believe that?" He asked incredulously. His eyes were searching, as if he truly didn't know the answer. Usagi stared, trying to read his expression, trying to measure his words and find the hidden meaning behind them. There had to be one; she knew how to respond to all the tricks, all the lies. But as she frantically sought his exterior, she couldn't crack the shell. She blinked, knowing that she had to respond, but unable to figure out how. What could she say? She'd never met such honesty before, and she was at a loss.
"I...I don't know." She stumbled. "But I can't explain my life without it."
"Let me have a try."
She looked up, and he was sitting back easily. He shrugged, as if he was prepared for anything she could throw at him.
"Excuse me?" She bluffed, hoping to keep him at bay, long enough for her to change the subject.
"I've taken a couple Psych classes." He winked playfully, and she could tell he was blatantly trying to put her at ease with such playfulness. She grudgingly admitted it was working. "I'm an expert. Tell me your life story, and I'll give you my analysis."
For the moment, Usagi wondered why she hadn't bolted from the scene already. Not even one of her co-workers knew how she wound up working at the club; in fact, she couldn't think of one person outside of her estranged father, that knew about the life she had fled from. It was a closely guarded secret that had a wall around it that was impossible to climb. Many had tried, but had always given up. So why was she so close to giving him to key to gate? He wasn't even prying it out of her; she could feel the words form in her mouth, and it wasn't until the floodgates had opened that she realized she was willingly giving it up.
"My father kicked me out when I was 14, after a long history of using me as his personal punching bag. I eventually traded that for the safe, comforting life on the streets. After 2 rape attempts, I gave in, found a club that was hiring, lied about my age and voila." Usagi bit back bitter tears of remembrance. "If I'm willing, then it's a not a violation. And if they're charged for the process, then really, I'm the winner in the end."
Even as Mamoru tried to mask his shock and disgust, she had to hold back. She'd tempered her words; but she could have expounded more, and even felt herself desiring to. But she had already opened the door more than she'd wanted to; more than she ever had before. He had all the ammo he needed not only to bury her, but also humiliate her in the process. She prayed, to whom she wasn't sure, that he would digest the information privately. She imagined him walking away for good and, despite the pain of regret and the sense of a loss deeper than she could have ever predicted, she reasoned that now she could back to living her normal life. Old wounds had been opened since she'd met Mamoru, and even worse, new ones seemed to be appearing all the time as well. If anything were to make this, or any, man back off, Usagi was sure this was it.
"I still don't see why you think this justifies your low standards in life."
"What?" Usagi gaped. Did he not just hear her?
"What kind man was your father?" He jumped ahead with another question. She blinked, feeling as if she was trying to walk up a steep, slick mountain, while rain fell all around her. She scrambled to stay ahead of Mamoru; tried to keep herself one step in front. But she slipped further and further backwards, she was struggling to stay at pace with the conversation.
"He...He was horrible." She stuttered simply, not finding any words with enough force to convey her feelings towards her father.
"Did you trust him?"
"What?" She repeated. Now she wasn't even at pace with Mamoru. He had lost her completely.
"Did you trust him? Was he trustworthy person?" He repeated, and Usagi almost laughed. He knew the answer to that! How could a man who beats anyone, let alone his own daughter, be in the least bit trustworthy?
"Of course not." She spat.
"Then why are you letting his beliefs about you shape your own?"
To Usagi, the world might have just as well stopped spinning. Her mouth now hung open, and it was as if someone had flicked the 'off' switch inside her mind. She stared, unseeingly, straight at Mamoru for an eternity before he crossed his arms over his chest, indicating an end to the argument. He knew that she couldn't respond; he had beaten her. And so easily at that.
"Are you OK?" He asked, a little puzzled over her lack of reaction. He wasn't sure what exactly he had expected, but she seemed paralyzed. The breech of silence caused a well to open up, and tears cascaded down her cheeks. Mamoru felt his body jump in response, and he leaned in close, pulling her shoulders towards him. His heart was pounding his rib cage painfully now. He chastised himself for being so flippant with her; he'd acted like it was a game. This was her life, her feelings; how could he have been so careless?
"What right do you have?" She murmured, now fully mobile and whipping her eyes furiously, taking out her hatred and anger on them. "Who said you had the privilege of...of...." A sob cut her off, and she struggled to hold it down. He had pulled her close by now, in an obvious gesture that probably didn't go unnoticed by other patrons of the café.
"Of what? Confronting you with reality?" He said in more gentle, hushed tones. The compassion in his voice made her even more enraged, and she pushed him roughly away.
"Who the hell are you to tell me what reality is?" She growled through clenched teeth. Acting on her 'flight' impulse, one that she was well acquainted with, Usagi grabbed her purse and stood up. "You came into the club just like every other self concerned frat boy who visits that God-forsaken part of town. You're no different, and you'll never convince me otherwise."
With tears blocking her vision, Usagi stumbled from the table to the exit, fast as she could manage as her whole psyche caved in on her. She wasn't sure where she was going; she couldn't remember which way her apartment was or even where the club was located. She walked barely a block before partially collapsing into a tree finally, and letting the sobs overwhelm her hollow shape. It hadn't even occurred to her that Mamoru might follow, but before she could tell what was happening, his now familiar embrace wrapped warmly around her. She didn't turn around, but she could smell him and she hated herself for melting into the scent. It had become a thing of unspeakable comfort; he was winning her trust, and she was fighting it as hard as she ever had with anyone, but it was apparent that it was battle she was losing.
"I'm sorry." He murmured, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke, his mouth close to her head. She covered her face, muffling her own cries of fear and confusion. What was coming over her? Why did it turn her resolve into puddles with such little effort? And why couldn't she get a handle on it before it turned everything in her safe little world upside down?
"I'm sorry for everything - For your father, for all the boys that come into the club. I'm sorry your life has been a living hell." He exhaled before adding softly, "And I'm sorry for only adding to your problems."
A fresh flood of tears tripped their way down her features. These were filled with remorse and guilt for making Mamoru apologize. He had done nothing wrong, and Usagi had to admit it now. She'd caused all this herself; once again, there was no one else to blame but her own jilted self-image.
"I kept telling myself that I was doing this for you; that I was going to be your knight in shining armor, but I ignored the whisperings of my ego. A part of me was looking for glory. The inflated feeling that I expected to come when I solved all your troubles and proved what a superior person I was." He confessed haltingly, as if some of this was a revelation, even to him. Usagi was so taken aback that she forgot her own cries of agony and just listened. His hold tightened around her and she inhaled sharply as he buried his face in the nape of her neck. His pain and remorse was evident through their connection; one that Usagi had to acknowledge as more than just physical at that point. Her lips trembled at the honest, innocent light that began to ignite inside her. She was opening herself - mind & body, heart & soul - to something that she knew she needed. She hadn't known she needed it until it was right in front of her. She'd never even experienced it, but she knew that she couldn't turn her back on it now. It had its foot in the door, and the only option was to open it wide.
"I'm so sorry, and I can only ask you to forgive me for it all."
"Mamoru...." She began, unsure of how she could continue. She couldn't forgive him, because he had done nothing wrong. Her heart pounded, and words formed on her lips before she had a chance to think them over. "I...."
In an instant, those sturdy arms had grabbed her fiercely by the shoulders and spun her around so that she was finally facing him. Her breath caught in her throat as all pain and anguish she'd heard in his voice was personified in his expression. Her response had become lodged in her throat and she pursed her lips shut, feeling like any words at this point would be inadequate.
"Please tell me you forgive me."
Any resistance on her side had long since retreated, but before she could voice the sentiment verbally, her eyes cast the vote for her. In a mere moment, Mamoru easily pulled her closer, lifting her lithe frame upwards. In one breath their lips met, in an action that was nothing short of ecstasy. Usagi had seen everything about this man as strong and unyielding; and yet his kiss was tender, and gentle as his mouth cradled her own with slow movements. He'd been so rough with his words and now such a stark contrast that Usagi was lost inside the contradiction. He tasted like milk and honey - like the Promised Land.
She hadn't been aware of her bodies' natural reaction, but when the pulsating heartbeat receded from inside her head, she had to pull her arms from a tangled mess around his neck. Despite her newfound confidence, shyness took over and she withdrew slightly. But nothing could keep the tiny, growing smile from creeping onto her face. And apparently, she wasn't hiding it from Mamoru well, either. A small, throaty chuckle emerged from his chest, and Usagi shivered as she could feel it erupt from inside him before she ever heard it.
"Does this mean you accept my apology?" He asked, the previous wounds gone from his speech.
"You didn't have to apologize, Mamoru. I've been such a brat, and I've been trying so hard to keep you away. I'm the one who needs to ask your forgiveness." Usagi said, angered that sobs were all too ready to spring up at the mention of her guilt. She sniffled, and his form softened once again as he simultaneously held her face and tenderly brushed away a tear with his thumb.
"It's already been forgotten."
Usagi collapsed fully into his arms now and he just held her, rocking her still form gently as she cried. Her body felt was emptied of all my fear and anger and bitterness. They were purged from inside -- with his help. After minutes of unbridled weeping, it began to gradually fall away into gasps and sighs. Mamoru used his sleeve to brush away any remnants from her face and then kissed her eyes open. Finally, she looked at him, blinked and realized that it was the first time she'd ever been truly awake.
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*clutches her own Mamo-clone and sighs*
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWW!
DON'T GET TOO COMFY!
I'm not done with you yet! *Ropa jumps up, throws head back and cackled maniacally, tossing Mamoru roughly aside in the process*
MWUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
I ain't the Queen O' Angst for nothing!
FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDBACCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!
ropachan@cox.net
cielenvoye@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/sailorananke
ropachan@cox.net
cielenvoye@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/sailorananke/
*******************************************************
'Rouge'
Chapter 5
By Sailor Europa
It had been years since Usagi had been out like this.
It wasn't that she didn't leave her apartment. No, she simply wasn't used to feeling so exposed. It felt unnatural, somehow. She obviously had to shop at the grocery, pick up dry-cleaning, make bank deposits. But this was different; this was social.
She tugged at the hem of her peach cardigan sweater as she walked. Mamoru had asked her to meet him at a cozy little coffee shop around his school. She knew where it was. She had never been there personally, but she'd passed it. She reminisced of how upon her first arrival in Amsterdam, she dreamed of sitting under the canopies and sipping tea from tiny little shops like this. But now she wouldn't dream of it; she was afraid of soiling the pure white that seemed to just overflow from these establishments. She didn't feel like she fit in with this crowd anymore; Usagi now belonged to the seedy, dark and noisy night club sect. And they had welcomed her so unabashedly. It seemed they accepted just about anybody.
She was afraid now that she would stick out like a sore thumb; that the stout, elderly owners would shake their salt & pepper heads as soon as she entered. They'd know instantly what kind of girl she was. She was scared to death of being found out. She was sacred to death of not fitting in.
Everything within her had begged her lips to decline from Mamoru's offer the night before. Even now she thought of standing him up; even as she approached the very address that he was already waiting for her at, she had fleeting thoughts of retreating. Maybe if she did, he'd never come back. Maybe he would see he'd made a mistake and just wash his hands of her all together. To be honest, she had no idea why she was even here. It was clear that she really didn't belong in this world; these people could not be human. At least, not the same kind as her.
But just the stitches of memory that wove through her mind from the previous evening tainted her better judgment and common sense. When she closed her eyes the feeling of his gentle fingers on her face shut down all her other faculties; it was as if she was paralyzed. It scared her; no man, no matter how intimate they had become, had ever made her body feel that way. Sexuality and commonplace arousal were normal for her; it didn't take much to awaken her body. But her mind was so alert, she realized, when Mamoru was within proximity. And something inside her felt like it was blossoming - to the point where it filled her inner cavity and threw out everything else. She was frightened. Frightened of being hurt, of hurting him, of feeling too much, too soon.
She could already see the back of his head from where she stood on the other side of the street. The rickety cobblestones were all that kept her from him now. She swallowed hard, envious of how picture perfect he looked, sitting with his legs crossed at a wrought iron table, sipping a large mug of coffee. He looked classic; she felt so out of place already, and she hadn't even formally arrived. Every instinct told her to flee, before he turned around and saw her. But she thought about how he had come to her side, without fail. He never promised or committed to anything; and yet he was always there. It was an unspeakable comfort that had become a firm foundation in so short a time. He had made a simple request; she would feel even worse if she didn't fill it. After all he'd done for her. She had to do this for him.
She took one last breath and jogged hurriedly across the street, her eyes stationary. She stared at his silky strands of raven hair like the tape at the end of a race; if she didn't watch the goal, she knew she'd bow out for fear of failure. But even as she neared, her pulse quickened. Why had she come again? More importantly, why had he come? Why did he feel the need to see her anymore? This was insanity; she should just go.
But fate had a different idea in mind, as just as she had had enough and paused to rethink her plans, Mamoru's head ducked downwards and he retrieved a fallen napkin. In the process, however, caught a sliver of a glance of a blonde bun and swiveled immediately. Usagi's heart shook and trembled as if in an earthquake waiting for his reaction. Without missing a beat, he stood; he'd hoped the smile was sincere enough to dispel the anxiety written all over her face. She felt her body relent and give in to her hearts desire to stay.
"I was starting to think you wouldn't show." He said softly once she had set her bag tentatively down on the glass table top with a dull thud. She blushed, ashamed she'd given him cause to doubt her. He instantly made her want to be a better person. It seemed that just impressing him with something small was satisfying enough.
"I don't know why I did." She replied, clasping her hands in her lap. She clutched her fingers together tightly, nervously. He didn't even have to look down before he instinctively grabbed a wrist and laced his own strong digits into her own. Her neck felt tight and it rose upwards steadily as he looked at her.
"I don't know either." He spoke lowly, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear this confession. "I'm so glad you did, though."
Her heart was thumping madly into her rib-cage within moments, and she felt light headed. She wasn't sure what was going on inside her body. It was entirely possible, she thought to herself, that this was what all little girls dream of. She could very well be falling for this man, learning to trust him. But, she reminded her foolish heart, that Mamoru, this gentle, handsome, honest man, would never return it. She was a whore, and she had to remember that. She would not let her trust be dashed to bits by a common Jon.
She ducked her head quickly to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks. She wasn't accustomed to this openness. Physically, it was a second nature, but there were times when she knew without a doubt that words were much harder to take back. It was so easy to express your feelings with touch; but when you spoke phrases of and with such tenderness, you either had to really believe them, or know you were lying. Usagi was deathly afraid of both. She didn't believe herself good enough for love, but she wanted it so badly; which left her open and vulnerable for rejection. And in her profession, that wasn't uncommon.
"Do you want anything?" Mamoru asked, sitting down across the table from her. "Coffee? Tea? A sandwich?" She thought for a moment, before realizing she didn't have any money on her. She wouldn't be paid until tonight, and she hadn't a chance to grab some cash before leaving in such an anxious haste. She could feel her cheeks redden again and decided to decline.
"No, thanks. I'm fine." She said quietly. As if to torture her, however, her stomach shook quietly, and she scrunched up her nose in mock anger. She'd hardly been able to eat anything earlier; her thoughts were running over every possible scenario that might play out during this meeting. Now, as it stood, she was regretting that.
"Are you sure?" Usagi looked up in shock. His head was tilted to the side in suspicion, and she blinked. It was as if he had eavesdropped on the whole conversation she'd had in her head. She didn't reply out of shock and this only received a playful grin from Mamoru. "Aha. I thought so."
He fingered a waiter that was passing by and spoke without even consulting her.
"I need a refill, and the lady will have a hamburger, fries and coffee." He looked back at her easily, as if she had consented to this. "Cream or sugar?"
Usagi nodded numbly, unsure how to react. She knew that many women would have been offended; not only had he second guessed her, but he took the liberty of choosing what she would eat too. But in truth, a burger was exactly what Usagi was craving. She had a wild appetite, compensated by periods of wild activity to burn all the energy off. However, since undertaking her current lifestyle, she rarely went out to eat. She knew that there were plenty of places that she would be welcomed; the girls at work were gracious enough to invite her with them every so often. But she always declined. The world they lived in was never appealing to her; all the others in the club embraced this destiny they chose. Usagi felt trapped, suffocated by this life. Being out like this was a breathe of fresh air.
She glanced down at her hands that were now fidgeting wildly once the waiter had left. Mamoru was setting his paper aside, and Usagi chewed on the side of her mouth nervously. She wasn't good at small talk, but she couldn't imagine what other kind of conversation might take place. But she hated having to chatter aimlessly; she did it often, but it was never by choice. She always thought she had to fill the silent void she often felt confined by whenever she was in situation, which, in truth, wasn't that often.
Mamoru was staring intently at her, maybe expecting her to say something. She grew uncomfortable and anxious to break the force he had over her.
"This is a nice place." She said cheerfully, pulling away from his gaze and taking in the décor around her. His shoulders sagged a bit, but he nodded in agreement.
"It's a lot quieter than the places I usually wind up in." He gave a wry smile as punctuation, and she could tell he wanted to expound on that, but held back. "I come here every once and while just to wallow in the sound of silence." She smiled easily, glad to have the heat off of her for once. Before he had a chance to move the conversation back onto her, she probed a bit more.
"You're more accustomed to noise?"
"I'm staying in a youth hostel with a handful of rowdy college guys." He raised a suggestive eyebrow and rolled his eyes. She erupted with a round of giggles that caused an immediate smile to appear on his lips. He hadn't heard that come from her before; he decided she needed to do it, and often. And when he was around to hear it. "I'm sure you can imagine just how loud that building can get sometimes."
"Oh, I don't need to imagine. About this time of year we always have rush from the University at the club...." She trailed off, immediately cursing herself for mentioning work again. His smile dropped like a stone and another intent look replaced it. She flushed hotly, knowing that she had just moved the conversation into dangerous territory.
"I'm sorry." He said. She exhaled and looked down, wondering when he would begin to chastise her again. She opened her mouth, but he forged ahead with his thought. "I don't like any of the guys I room with. They treat me like an outsider because I don't engage in their activities. But I take for granted the respect they automatically have for me just because I'm a man." His gaze softened, and it looked to Usagi like even he was affected by this frightening subject matter. "I don't even want to know how they act with you...."
The way he said "you" sounded so personal and it made Usagi's skin tremble. He wasn't talking about the girls at the club in general. She knew instinctively that he meant her and her alone. Something about it made her say things she knew she would regret....
"It's not so bad." She laughed, knowing how hollow and fake it sounded, even to her own ears. "Every body has bad days at their job, you know?" She picked at her napkin without looking at him. She wasn't sure she could take the look he must be giving her. "I mean, I think most of the frat boys treat us no worse than they treat the sorority girls they pick up on a regular basis back home. The only difference is they buy those girls with drinks and cheesy pick up lines." She laughed at herself, realizing that he hadn't joined in. "It's probably a relief to just lay down a couple hundred bucks without saying a word."
Mamoru's heart was simultaneously constricting and pounding as he listened to her go on about her job as if it were just another career choice. Discussing the pros and cons.... It made him sick. He could tell, as she prattled on aimlessly though, that there was something deeper, a niggling in her expression, in the way her brow was knitted together, that she disliked it even more than he did. He wondered if it made her nauseous every time she had to go back to that club, if she laid awake at night thinking about how queasy this lifestyle made her.
"But they use you." He stopped her with that. She finally looked at him, and they both realized at the same time that her eyes were brimming with tears. She laughed as a couple fell silently to the table cloth.
"That's what I'm here for." The reply was wooden, and Mamoru wondered if it was said more to convince her, than him. He pictured her telling herself that after each man threw the bills on the nightstand.
"Your purpose in life is not to please every random guy who has a hundred bucks to blow." His voice rose with an anger directed towards the whole system, at every guy who thought of Usagi that way. "It's sick. It's sick and it's wrong that there are men that think that. And what's worse, that they've got you believing it."
"How do you know it's not true?" Usagi was becoming just as upset, but she couldn't seem to muster the rage and fury that the opposition managed. He glowered at her, and she knew that the honest question wasn't going to be answered. She rambled without thinking. "How do you know that God didn't put me on this earth for that purpose?" She could see those hazy, drunken eyes, the ones that frequented her fathers worn, leathery face with more consistency before he finally threw her onto the streets. Each time his knuckles connected with her jaw, his palm with her cheek she felt worthless; but here, now, she had a purpose.
"Do...do you honestly believe that?" He asked incredulously. His eyes were searching, as if he truly didn't know the answer. Usagi stared, trying to read his expression, trying to measure his words and find the hidden meaning behind them. There had to be one; she knew how to respond to all the tricks, all the lies. But as she frantically sought his exterior, she couldn't crack the shell. She blinked, knowing that she had to respond, but unable to figure out how. What could she say? She'd never met such honesty before, and she was at a loss.
"I...I don't know." She stumbled. "But I can't explain my life without it."
"Let me have a try."
She looked up, and he was sitting back easily. He shrugged, as if he was prepared for anything she could throw at him.
"Excuse me?" She bluffed, hoping to keep him at bay, long enough for her to change the subject.
"I've taken a couple Psych classes." He winked playfully, and she could tell he was blatantly trying to put her at ease with such playfulness. She grudgingly admitted it was working. "I'm an expert. Tell me your life story, and I'll give you my analysis."
For the moment, Usagi wondered why she hadn't bolted from the scene already. Not even one of her co-workers knew how she wound up working at the club; in fact, she couldn't think of one person outside of her estranged father, that knew about the life she had fled from. It was a closely guarded secret that had a wall around it that was impossible to climb. Many had tried, but had always given up. So why was she so close to giving him to key to gate? He wasn't even prying it out of her; she could feel the words form in her mouth, and it wasn't until the floodgates had opened that she realized she was willingly giving it up.
"My father kicked me out when I was 14, after a long history of using me as his personal punching bag. I eventually traded that for the safe, comforting life on the streets. After 2 rape attempts, I gave in, found a club that was hiring, lied about my age and voila." Usagi bit back bitter tears of remembrance. "If I'm willing, then it's a not a violation. And if they're charged for the process, then really, I'm the winner in the end."
Even as Mamoru tried to mask his shock and disgust, she had to hold back. She'd tempered her words; but she could have expounded more, and even felt herself desiring to. But she had already opened the door more than she'd wanted to; more than she ever had before. He had all the ammo he needed not only to bury her, but also humiliate her in the process. She prayed, to whom she wasn't sure, that he would digest the information privately. She imagined him walking away for good and, despite the pain of regret and the sense of a loss deeper than she could have ever predicted, she reasoned that now she could back to living her normal life. Old wounds had been opened since she'd met Mamoru, and even worse, new ones seemed to be appearing all the time as well. If anything were to make this, or any, man back off, Usagi was sure this was it.
"I still don't see why you think this justifies your low standards in life."
"What?" Usagi gaped. Did he not just hear her?
"What kind man was your father?" He jumped ahead with another question. She blinked, feeling as if she was trying to walk up a steep, slick mountain, while rain fell all around her. She scrambled to stay ahead of Mamoru; tried to keep herself one step in front. But she slipped further and further backwards, she was struggling to stay at pace with the conversation.
"He...He was horrible." She stuttered simply, not finding any words with enough force to convey her feelings towards her father.
"Did you trust him?"
"What?" She repeated. Now she wasn't even at pace with Mamoru. He had lost her completely.
"Did you trust him? Was he trustworthy person?" He repeated, and Usagi almost laughed. He knew the answer to that! How could a man who beats anyone, let alone his own daughter, be in the least bit trustworthy?
"Of course not." She spat.
"Then why are you letting his beliefs about you shape your own?"
To Usagi, the world might have just as well stopped spinning. Her mouth now hung open, and it was as if someone had flicked the 'off' switch inside her mind. She stared, unseeingly, straight at Mamoru for an eternity before he crossed his arms over his chest, indicating an end to the argument. He knew that she couldn't respond; he had beaten her. And so easily at that.
"Are you OK?" He asked, a little puzzled over her lack of reaction. He wasn't sure what exactly he had expected, but she seemed paralyzed. The breech of silence caused a well to open up, and tears cascaded down her cheeks. Mamoru felt his body jump in response, and he leaned in close, pulling her shoulders towards him. His heart was pounding his rib cage painfully now. He chastised himself for being so flippant with her; he'd acted like it was a game. This was her life, her feelings; how could he have been so careless?
"What right do you have?" She murmured, now fully mobile and whipping her eyes furiously, taking out her hatred and anger on them. "Who said you had the privilege of...of...." A sob cut her off, and she struggled to hold it down. He had pulled her close by now, in an obvious gesture that probably didn't go unnoticed by other patrons of the café.
"Of what? Confronting you with reality?" He said in more gentle, hushed tones. The compassion in his voice made her even more enraged, and she pushed him roughly away.
"Who the hell are you to tell me what reality is?" She growled through clenched teeth. Acting on her 'flight' impulse, one that she was well acquainted with, Usagi grabbed her purse and stood up. "You came into the club just like every other self concerned frat boy who visits that God-forsaken part of town. You're no different, and you'll never convince me otherwise."
With tears blocking her vision, Usagi stumbled from the table to the exit, fast as she could manage as her whole psyche caved in on her. She wasn't sure where she was going; she couldn't remember which way her apartment was or even where the club was located. She walked barely a block before partially collapsing into a tree finally, and letting the sobs overwhelm her hollow shape. It hadn't even occurred to her that Mamoru might follow, but before she could tell what was happening, his now familiar embrace wrapped warmly around her. She didn't turn around, but she could smell him and she hated herself for melting into the scent. It had become a thing of unspeakable comfort; he was winning her trust, and she was fighting it as hard as she ever had with anyone, but it was apparent that it was battle she was losing.
"I'm sorry." He murmured, his breath tickling her ear as he spoke, his mouth close to her head. She covered her face, muffling her own cries of fear and confusion. What was coming over her? Why did it turn her resolve into puddles with such little effort? And why couldn't she get a handle on it before it turned everything in her safe little world upside down?
"I'm sorry for everything - For your father, for all the boys that come into the club. I'm sorry your life has been a living hell." He exhaled before adding softly, "And I'm sorry for only adding to your problems."
A fresh flood of tears tripped their way down her features. These were filled with remorse and guilt for making Mamoru apologize. He had done nothing wrong, and Usagi had to admit it now. She'd caused all this herself; once again, there was no one else to blame but her own jilted self-image.
"I kept telling myself that I was doing this for you; that I was going to be your knight in shining armor, but I ignored the whisperings of my ego. A part of me was looking for glory. The inflated feeling that I expected to come when I solved all your troubles and proved what a superior person I was." He confessed haltingly, as if some of this was a revelation, even to him. Usagi was so taken aback that she forgot her own cries of agony and just listened. His hold tightened around her and she inhaled sharply as he buried his face in the nape of her neck. His pain and remorse was evident through their connection; one that Usagi had to acknowledge as more than just physical at that point. Her lips trembled at the honest, innocent light that began to ignite inside her. She was opening herself - mind & body, heart & soul - to something that she knew she needed. She hadn't known she needed it until it was right in front of her. She'd never even experienced it, but she knew that she couldn't turn her back on it now. It had its foot in the door, and the only option was to open it wide.
"I'm so sorry, and I can only ask you to forgive me for it all."
"Mamoru...." She began, unsure of how she could continue. She couldn't forgive him, because he had done nothing wrong. Her heart pounded, and words formed on her lips before she had a chance to think them over. "I...."
In an instant, those sturdy arms had grabbed her fiercely by the shoulders and spun her around so that she was finally facing him. Her breath caught in her throat as all pain and anguish she'd heard in his voice was personified in his expression. Her response had become lodged in her throat and she pursed her lips shut, feeling like any words at this point would be inadequate.
"Please tell me you forgive me."
Any resistance on her side had long since retreated, but before she could voice the sentiment verbally, her eyes cast the vote for her. In a mere moment, Mamoru easily pulled her closer, lifting her lithe frame upwards. In one breath their lips met, in an action that was nothing short of ecstasy. Usagi had seen everything about this man as strong and unyielding; and yet his kiss was tender, and gentle as his mouth cradled her own with slow movements. He'd been so rough with his words and now such a stark contrast that Usagi was lost inside the contradiction. He tasted like milk and honey - like the Promised Land.
She hadn't been aware of her bodies' natural reaction, but when the pulsating heartbeat receded from inside her head, she had to pull her arms from a tangled mess around his neck. Despite her newfound confidence, shyness took over and she withdrew slightly. But nothing could keep the tiny, growing smile from creeping onto her face. And apparently, she wasn't hiding it from Mamoru well, either. A small, throaty chuckle emerged from his chest, and Usagi shivered as she could feel it erupt from inside him before she ever heard it.
"Does this mean you accept my apology?" He asked, the previous wounds gone from his speech.
"You didn't have to apologize, Mamoru. I've been such a brat, and I've been trying so hard to keep you away. I'm the one who needs to ask your forgiveness." Usagi said, angered that sobs were all too ready to spring up at the mention of her guilt. She sniffled, and his form softened once again as he simultaneously held her face and tenderly brushed away a tear with his thumb.
"It's already been forgotten."
Usagi collapsed fully into his arms now and he just held her, rocking her still form gently as she cried. Her body felt was emptied of all my fear and anger and bitterness. They were purged from inside -- with his help. After minutes of unbridled weeping, it began to gradually fall away into gasps and sighs. Mamoru used his sleeve to brush away any remnants from her face and then kissed her eyes open. Finally, she looked at him, blinked and realized that it was the first time she'd ever been truly awake.
******************************************
*clutches her own Mamo-clone and sighs*
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWW!
DON'T GET TOO COMFY!
I'm not done with you yet! *Ropa jumps up, throws head back and cackled maniacally, tossing Mamoru roughly aside in the process*
MWUHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
I ain't the Queen O' Angst for nothing!
FEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDBACCCCCCKKKKKKKKKK!
ropachan@cox.net
cielenvoye@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/sailorananke