Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure everyone knows the drill by now, but just in case... I don't DN Angel in any way. If I did, I'd introduce a new love interest for Dark and you all know who that'd be, haha.
Sakura-Angel: Ack. Sorry for the late posting, but I have been away on vacation.
Dark: You say it like it's an excuse. How dare you abandon me for so long!
Sakura-Angel: Well it's hard to write when you're out doing stuff constantly and away from a computer to boot.
Dark: Hm... maybe I can forgive you.
Sakura-Angel: Are you still PMSing?
Dark: I suggest you start writing before you say anything to further endanger yourself.
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Dark noticed the sudden tensing in Riku's face, arm... entire body actually. He popped a potato chunk into his mouth casually and made an attempt to look into her distant eyes. "Hey, what's wrong?"
Riku immediately shook her head and focused entirely on her chicken. She made shaky, jerky movements with her knife, sawing through the chicken with more effort than it should've taken.
"Hey..." Dark sat up and started leaning over his steak and potatoes. "What's wrong?" his smooth voice punctuated each word with genuine concern. When he got no reply, yet again, he put his hands over hers, not knowing why it felt so natural, or even why he felt he had to do it. He somehow loosened her grip on the knife and fork until they dropped to her plate with a clatter. His red eyes coaxed her light brown ones out of a seeming trance. He tried again. "What's wrong?"
Riku's lips parted the slightest bit, but she couldn't say anything. Why was he holding her hands? Why was he so concerned about her? Why could she not tear her gaze away from his?
"Riku?" an entirely different voice than the smooth one she wanted to hear rung throughout the restaurant. Wait... wanted to hear? 'No. I can't deal with this right now.' Riku started to feel sick.
"Riku? Is that you?"
Dark turned around, his senses telling him that the guy calling out for Riku was approaching. He still had his hands over hers.
"I thought it was you I saw," a gangly guy with a comical face stood above the pair. He had dark hair and was outfitted in a trenchcoat and he was holding an open notebook, the stereotypical reporter. He eyed the joined hands in the middle of the table a little strangely, maybe even with a tinge of jealousy? "Just thought I'd say hi."
"Hello," Riku replied hollowly.
"Right," Takeshi glanced over his shoulder quickly, as if he was being followed. "'Ku, can I talk to you?" he jerked his thumb towards the washrooms.
Riku didn't bite, attempting to shove him away. Just him saying her nickname was enough to recall all she had written about first loves the other day, and it was heartwrenching. "You're talking to me right now."
Takeshi hesitated a bit, knowing that the purple haired guy could probably beat him up if he offended him in any way. "Can I... talk to you alone?"
Riku desperately wanted to run out of the restaurant and out of Tokyo, to get away from both Dark and Takeshi. But she had to comply. "Mm-hm," she lifted her hands from underneath Dark's. "Excuse me, Dark."
"You're excused," he replied bemusedly. As the reporter-wannabe led Riku away, Dark clapped his hands in an funny fashion and called out, "Waiter!"
Krad took his sweet time getting there, and Dark got bored. Rather than pick at his steak and act like he wasn't curious about Riku and that reporter-wannabe, he glanced over at them occasionally from the dessert menu left on the table. They seemed to be talking involvedly. Riku shook her head once.
"Yes?"
Dark was extremely relieved to hear Krad's baritone voice. He really needed a distraction. "Which dessert would you recommend?"
"I've always been partial to the tiramisu," Krad replied in a no-nonsense manner for one who was talking about sweets.
"Ah," Dark said.
"See you, Riku," reporter-guy breezed by as Riku sat down at the table, looking drained.
Dark knew not to prod Riku about the little 'huddle-by-the-plants-for-a-secret-talk' session, so he acted nonchalant and said to the shaky girl, "I was just talking to Krad here about what to have for dessert, what would you like?"
"I've always liked tiramisu," she said in a voice that told Dark she was trying to act like nothing big had happened.
Krad nodded a few times, looking away from the pair. "Smart girl."
Dark cleared his throat, trying to break some of the underlying tension. "Then it's settled. Tiramisu it is."
Krad turned on his heel. "I'll be back with your tiramisu."
Dark turned to Riku and was hit by something he'd never seen in her before. Sadness. Weariness. He'd seen this person he knew none too well angry, amused, frightened and serious. But he'd never seen her like this. He wanted it to stop. It didn't feel right. But the words couldn't form in his throat.
He instead stuck to the lighter conversation path. "Hey, is your food as good as mine?" He looked up at Riku with his bright red eyes, despite the tinge of turmoil he felt inside.
Riku knew what he was trying to do. She knew that he knew exactly who that was that waltzed in and stole her away. She knew he felt uncomortable and was making attempts to cover it up. She knew that he was trying to comfort her by pretending it never happened, that the earth hadn't just shifted beneath her feet. She knew that she had to leave or she'd start crying. "I..." But then she thought better of it and instead responded to his question. "It's delicious." And at the sound of her own cracking voice, her eyes started to water.
Oh God, she was going to cry. He couldn't just sit there like nothing was going on, he had to do something. "Riku..." He reached over for the second time that day and placed his hand over her suddenly clammy one.
It felt like electricity, his touch, and her breath came in quick and she pulled back as quickly as if she were shocked. She was filled with a strange sort of regret that she hadn't just let her hand lay there and in doing so, let someone get close again. But it was too late. It always was. "I'm sorry. I have to go. Thank you for lunch." She stood up abruptly and walked quickly across the restaurant.
He couldn't believe it, the sight of her running away from him again. First on the street, again from the party, and now this? He'd get her this time, even if he had to run after her. So he ran. He bolted after her, out the restaurant. He ran blindly through crowds, following the scent of pear.
This girl... there was something very distinct about her. Something he found very intriguing, and he could only bring it into the light by spending more time around her. Maybe it was her sardonic comments? Her tough exterior and soft core? The way she wrote was enough to change something he believed in since he was a teenager, and he found that amazing. To add to that, most girls would throw themselves at him while she had the guts to instead throw wine at him. And even while it was happening, he knew that she was the kind of girl he could respect because she had self-respect, which was a lot more than he could say for the majority of his admirers. She was hard and cold from things past, but he knew that inside, something was still alive and yearning.
"Riku!" He could see her now, weaving her way down a path in the park just outside of the city centre.
She didn't reply. It seemed to Dark that she had dropped out of sight altogether... until he heard the crying.
He was drawn to it, like a siren song, only [hopefully] it was less deadly. He followed the sound around a small pond to behind a thick cluster of exotic looking lilies.
She was really very beautiful. Sitting among the fragrant blooms with tears streaked down her face, she looked like a grieving goddess. Her hair was tousled from the run and tears and it covered her face like a soft curtain. She was sitting on the ledge of the pond, into which trickled a small waterfall and the sound of the water gurgling was alone, except for Riku's shuddery breaths.
He wanted to do something, but he was afraid that she'd run away again if he came any closer. It was strange how his wanting her to stay kept him farther from her. 'How ironic.' Dark thought to himself. But he never didn't do something. So now he took a step forward, as if testing his theory of her taking off again. She didn't. He took another step. And another. He was standing right above her now, looking down with his hands in his pockets. He just stared at her a bit longer, waiting for a reaction. Still, she offered none. So he sat down next to her. He lifted a hand, tentative, reaching out to touch her again, but slow enough so she could sense it and pull away, if she wanted to.
His hand made contact with her soft hair and he felt her flinch, but it was small. He pulled her hair back gently and tucked it behind her ear. She turned her head slowly, slightly, so she could see his face and he, hers.
A tingle ran through her entire body, the kind that made her want to cry again. Why couldn't he just leave her alone? She couldn't be around him because he was one of the reasons she was crying.
He dug up something from inside her without even trying. He smirked and eyebrow-raised his way through her line of defenses. He took the surest of steps past the walls she had built and unlatched her suitcase and flung it open. He had done the impossible.
Which was why she made herself hate him.
Which was why she surprised herself when she sunk into his chest and started sobbing.
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After Riku's emotional breakdown [that's what she called it anyway], things with Dark went on normally, surprisingly enough. A silent agreement was forged between the two that what had gone on in the park should be glazed over in their memories, like it had happened in some distant past. When they passed each other on the street, she'd usually nod her head in acknowledgement and pull her head down as they walked past each other. Dark would usually wave or do something more open, and she'd give a small smile or maybe even a chuckle because he had that effect on her, but she'd always stop as if she remembered she wasn't supposed to be happy.
Despite that, Riku couldn't erase him completely from her mind and just peg him as the man that had offered her comfort once and left. Dark couldn't do it either. So they ended up calling each other, sometimes late in the evening, and they'd talk long into the night. Riku found herself tuning into his station sometimes, when she needed to be cheered up and his time was being taken up by the occasional extra shift. Just listening to him muse and charm everyone made her heart lighter and before long, the earth shifted beneath her feet again. Only this time, she didn't fall.
Dark ended up dipping into the newspaper archives in the library and he read them just for her section. Her little thoughts were always original and refreshing. Still, after all of them, the one that stuck to him the most was the one he had read a few weeks ago, the one about first loves. He wondered if that maybe, one day, he'd be walking in the rain on a street full of people clamoring to get to their homes and he'd find that white umbrella and the person who stood weighed down beneath it.
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Sakura-Angel: Ta-da.
Dark: How short. You're such a slacker.
Sakura-Angel: You know, you don't have to be my co-narrator/host/whatever.
Dark: You wouldn't really give me the boot. You love me too much.
Sakura-Angel: This story is going to end in approximately two more chapters anyway.
Dark: What?!