Pan sloshed her clogged feet through some puddles left by the rain, her grocery bags swinging from her hands, the rain still relentless.
She carried on, however, walking close to buildings, being protected by the most part by eaves from quaint little downtown shops or from neighborhood banks or restaurants. Only occasionally did this protection leave her, and she sprinted to the next covering when it did.
She took her apartment steps two at a time, taking off her newsboy cap and shaking it out before sliding her key in the lock. It was unlocked, much to her surprise, and she entered warily, glancing around for a sign of any visitor—or intruder.
She found the intruder sitting in her living room, watching a soccer game.
"Trunks, what are you doing here?" He turned around to look at her, an open bag of potato chips sitting next to him on the couch.
"Isn't it a little early to be out shopping?" He asked, motioning to the clock behind her that stated it was 8:37am.
"I had to get some groceries," She explained, carrying her load into the kitchen and setting them down on the island. "What did you want?" He slouched over, rolling up the top of the chip bag and stuffing it into a cupboard above the fridge.
"I want you to go the east capitol with me today." She looked at him as if he were mad.
"What on earth for?"
"I have a business meeting." She rolled her eyes and let them settle heavenward.
"You can release all of your employees from work because of this storm and yet you won't cancel a business meeting." She said sarcastically.
"I don't see why I don't have to go. I mean, the weather's much better today." He looked outside at the rain. It had decided to fall harder now. It seemed to agree with Pan.
"And why do you want me to go with you?" She then questioned him, tossing the empty bags into a drawer and taking up several cans in her arms.
"I thought, since the meeting wouldn't be very long, we could hang around the capitol for the afternoon for something to do. Aren't you bored of sitting around in this weather? It'll be fun. And I heard it isn't raining in the east." She rolled her eyes again.
"Please?" He begged. "It would be fun. And what better things do you possibly have to do today?" She closed the cupboard and turned to him with a defeated smirk.
"If this plane crashes in this hurricane I'm holding you personally responsible for my death," Pan quipped, buckling her seatbelt. They were sitting opposite each other in Trunks' private jet, a simple coffee table between them with a plethora of diverse magazines spread over its surface.
He only laughed, shaking his head, his lavender strands tangling over his brow as he gazed out of the window. It was late morning by now.
The plane trafficked down the ramps and runways, and an announcement came over the speaker saying, "Ready for takeoff, Mr. Briefs, sir."
"Go ahead," He called towards the cockpit, and the engine revved up.
Pan leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes tight, and Trunks watched her with intrigue.
The plane lifted into the air, and Pan took in a breath, her face fresh with a silent smile. Trunks leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee, his hand cupped around his chin.
Until the plane tilted east she sat the same way—as if she was soaking in the very moment. Trunks watched her with a slow smile, and she slid her eyes open slowly to see him gazing at her.
"What?" she asked him, a smirk on her face.
"I was just watching," he defended. She cast him a disbelieving brow, but he only smiled in return.
"I love that," she continued, "lifting off in a plane. I really do." She grinned at him happily.
"Well, I shall add it to my list of little things I've found out about you." He grinned back at her.
"I don't know why I came. I don't know why I came." Trunks had stormed past Pan without even a word and stormed even more into the elevator, his slim leather binder wrinkling with the pressure of his tight grip upon it.
"Whoa, slow down, tiger. What's wrong?" She punched the button for the first floor and the metal door shut with a ting!.
"You know, why don't they just say it? Why don't they just say it!" He took several deep breaths. "They all are thinking the same thing, 'Capsule Corps. went to pot the day the young heir took over.' And, 'the company's going to fall in a big heap with him at the head.'
"Why don't they just openly criticize me? Why don't they instead of stabbing my back with muted snickers and glances at each other when I'm not looking? I can handle the truth better than I can handle this, this—political intrigue!" Pan held back an obnoxious laugh.
"Political intrigue?" She asked him, and even he had to cool down a little at the humor of it.
"You know what I mean," He insisted, slowly gain back vehemence. "I can take them telling me everything they think. It's this behind-my-back stuff that frustrates me."
"You're a fighter, Trunks. Of course that's where you'll stand. You want something you can fight against. Not some elusive disapproval you can't put your finger on." He opened his mouth to speak. "Oh, I know you know it's there for sure but you don't have any proof. And you'd rather something you can punch in the gut, am I right?" She was. He slumped his shoulders, his temper draining at her words.
"It's ok." She patted him. "It'll be all right. You'll prove them wrong, I know you will. And look at all the good things you've done! Look at your work with Degraid—look at Vixen! Vixen entertainment is the hottest thing out right now, and you're at the head."
"But Connor—"
"Connor Degraid has done nothing in comparison to you. You're the one who really upped this company. You're the one with the brains behind it. I know you are." She poked him in the chest. "And don't argue with me."
"I won't." She laughed and they climbed into the car. "Take us to 22nd and Dae, please, driver." He called to the front, and Pan kicked up her feet in the adjacent seat. She had jeans on, with sneakers and a purple t-shirt. She also had a navy blue zip-up hoodie with the sleeves pushed up on, and her hair was down and naturally wavy.
"So, Mr. Briefs, where are you taking me?" She asked, crossing her ankles and pulling down an armrest for herself.
"I'm taking you to do your favorite thing: eat." They exchanged a chuckle.
"Ooh, baby, you know what I like."
Later that evening they were sipping cappuccinos after their meal at fifth and twelfth, a swanky place where Trunks had only gotten in for dinner without a reservation by his name.
"Lots of or barely any?" Pan asked him, sucking in the top of her froth with flourish.
"Froth? Hmm." He thought on it before answering, "A regular amount." She looked at him with a hardly contained smile. "I mean, I like it—but too much I don't like. You?"
"Lots. I think I like it more than the actual drink!" And she sipped at her drink again. "Ok, question time. If you could—and had to—change one thing on your face, what would it be?"
"My nose." He said without hesitation.
"Your nose?" She returned, beginning to take a good look at it.
"It's too big." He gave her a side profile, but she laughed off his argument of his nose's size. "And what about you?"
"My hair," She said simply. "It's too thick and unmanageable." She seemed determined.
"I love your hair—it's not too thick." He insisted, but she brushed him off. "You really don't like it?"
"I've never liked it." She stated just as simply as her last statement. "It's thick, it's poofy, it's in the way." She began a tirade, but he only laughed it off.
"Come on, miss 'do," He stood up and placed some cash on the table. "Let's go for a walk by the bay. And hey, you said what would you change about your 'face'!"
They were dropped off by Trunks' car at the boardwalk along the bank, and the sun was setting crimson and orange against navy blue and royal purple clouds lined with silver in the distance.
"Looks like it's still stormy back home," She commented solemnly.
"Has this been too much rain for you?"
"Not too much rain," She returned. "I love it. It's just I feel so flat when I'm not working or doing something with my time. Now that school's out I need to be doing something with my hands—my mind—constantly if I don't want to feel deflated." She smiled.
"You're boyfriend, Jace, is so antsy about coming into work I've had to stop answering his calls." He commented with a friendly smirk, but Pan didn't return it.
"He isn't my boyfriend anymore." Trunks raised a brow, hands in his suit pockets as he walked just a pace behind her. The breeze brushed her waving hair around her brow and jawline.
"The two of you broke up?" He asked her, and she nodded.
"It's for the best, really. He's getting into his new job, and adjusting to a new city. I knew things wouldn't last between us. The best I could do for him was let him go and let him establish himself here as a single guy.
"He wants to settle down, and he needs to be available to girls who want to settle down with him." Silence lingered between them for several moments, Pan thinking to herself, Trunks gauging his next words.
"Larkin Scott is in town," She turned around to face him. "He's overseeing the new martial arts facility they're opening up in the Tucker district." She lifted a brow in disbelief. "You guys should probably hang out sometime." Pan shook her head.
"He's better off not having anything to do with me." She continued walking and Trunks followed.
"He loved you, Pan. I know you don't want to admit it, or address it, or even think of it. But you know it's true."
"He's better off not having anything to do with me." She repeated.
"You don't think anything could happen with him?" He asked her. "You don't want anything to?"
"We were over before we had even begun. We could have been great friends, but nothing more. I liked you, remember?" She turned again and looked at him.
"I know. But maybe, now that we—I mean…is he someone you could like? Now that we're over, I mean." Pan bit her lip and didn't answer, and she kept walking again.
But Trunks didn't keep walking.
"Pan." She stopped dead in her tracks, but didn't turn around. "I want to be your friend. I want to so badly—more than you know. But I can't if you won't let me be. If you won't talk to me.
"I can feel those walls you have set around yourself. Those walls that still keep me out."
"I have walls, Trunks. I admit it without remorse. Only a couple months ago we were engaged. We were going to get married. And things didn't work out." She looked him square in the eye. "And so you expect me to let go instantaneously and release every wall to my soul to you? I don't even open the door for barely anyone." She folded her arms and looked into the distance.
"I understand that, Pan. I understand and acknowledge that you have every reason to shut me out especially. But, Pan, it's not good to always shut yourself up in your walls. Sometimes you need to trust people. Sometimes you need to let go—sometimes you need to lend someone your heart in whatever type of relationship it is, and trust that they won't break it.
"I'm here for you, Pan. Maybe more than anyone. I just wish you would see how much I care and want to be here for you. How I want you to trust me again and give me that second chance now as a friend."
She still didn't look at him, only at the horizon in the distance, and her soft curls brushed across her face until finally she spoke.
"I looked to you like you were a god. Always growing up I wanted your approval, your smile. I came to want your heart, too, Trunks. I thought I had it once only to lose it when I found out about that bet—"
"You always had it, Pan. It was just I didn't know it.
"I was too foolish to really understand until you left. I thought I had lost you forever until you came back, and when you trusted me I betrayed you—"
"And I you." She turned, and their eyes met.
"Pan," He approached her, and the last of the day's sunlight splayed over her face as he cupped her cheek in his hand. "Things can go back. We can forget everything that happened between us. We can be friends as we always were. We can laugh and go out with everyone on weekends. We can spend holidays with our families always together.
"We can go back to the way things were and forget the pains we went through. We can act as if nothing ever happened!"
She shook her head and a tear slid down her cheek. Her expression was distraught and she fought back a rush of tears.
"No! No, they can't, Trunks!" She took a step back as if burned. "You say we can act as if nothing has changed in this past year. As if were still the friends we were growing up.
"But they can't Trunks! They can't!" And glistening tears spilled down her cheeks.
"Why can't they, Pan?" He was desperate, his face flushed, and his expression frustrated and as distraught in a different way as hers. "Why can't we pretend? Why can't we pretend?" There was a silence that engulfed them both, broken only by Trunks' heavy breathing and Pan's silent tears and quiet sniffling.
"Because I still love you." And her face distorted to something tragic, and Trunks was stricken beyond words.
"I love you, Trunks! I've never stopped, no matter what has happened, no matter how we've been apart or together. I can't live without you.
"And I can't pretend, Trunks. I can't pretend anymore." She shook her head as she broke down. Her tears sparkled in the sudden mix of dusky and starry light, and Trunks, still in his awed silence, cupped her face in his hands.
"I love you, Trunks. I love you." He brushed away her tears with his thumbs, and her waving hair blew against them both in the cool evening breeze.
"Then love me, my Panny." Through her tears she now bore a sudden smile. "Then love me my beautiful, wondrous, magical, Panny." He pulled her to him, and their foreheads touched.
"Oh, how I love you. I've never stopped loving you, and never stopped hoping someday you might love me again."
She said, "I tried to lie to myself, only to discover I was denying myself the thing that brought me the most joy of anything ever in my life."
He kissed her once, twice, three, four times. Quickly on her lips, then darting over her tear-streaked face. And then he kissed her once on her lips, long and slow and as passionately as ever he could muster.
"Marry me, Pan?" He then asked her. She widened her eyes, though without a doubt she knew that was what she wanted to do. There wasn't any hesitation no matter what their past experience had been. She had no second thoughts, and she knew there would never be any regret.
"Marry this stupid, foolish man and make him the happiest in the world." He pressed, but she did not answer him straight away.
"Who am I?" He lifted his brows in confusion. "Who am I?" She said again.
"Panny." She grinned and leapt into his arms.
"When you stopped calling me that I thought my heart would break," She hugged him tighter. "Yes. Yes!"
"I shall never let you be anything but my Panny. Never again." And he twirled her around and around and around.
And then he drew her into his arms, holding her as if he would never surrender her. Holding her tight as if he would never ever let her go. He breathed in the scent of her hair. As always it bore the fragrance of coconut and almond, and he let out a sigh filled with emotion that nearly presented itself through tears.
His eyes bright he gave her another kiss, and took her hand. They walked slowly along the boardwalk in the darkening night, lingering, not caring about anything else but each other.
And they talked, and laughed, and remembered, and questioned. And Trunks vowed he still sought to know everything little thing about her. And she told him he had all the time in the world.
Yes, this was the last chapter, ladies and gentleman. I had a surprise up my sleeve, didn't I? Please go here (without the spaces, of course, and you'll have to add two slashes after the "http:" because ffnet is prickish): http: www. livejournal. com/ users/ denialofreality /39411. html # cutid1