Disclaimer: I own nothing. Especially not the song - If She Would Have Been Faithful by Chicago, submitted to me by T+P fan a long while ago. Thanks again! ^_^
A/N: I'm sorry about the delay. I couldn't tell you all the things that happened. But anyway, I've received the inspiration I needed to finish this and it will be done very soon. That wait will never happen again…Opps, you'd think that I'd know never to say never.
-sighs- oh well.
Forever hold your Peace
The old woman sighed, pulling the pins out of her hair and letting it drop around her shoulders. She watched silently as her grand daughter stepped into the car that would escort her away, a plastered smile on her face, waving at everyone, everything, she was leaving behind. Chi-Chi wasn't sure if her grand daughter knew what she was getting into but what she did know was she couldn't - she wouldn't - make decisions for someone who wouldn't make decisions for themselves.
Maybe Pan was making the biggest mistake of her life. Then, maybe she wasn't.
"Rain on a wedding," She started, giving her son a long, penetrating look. "Tears in the marriage." She shook her head sadly as she walked down the steps of the chapel, finding her own way to their car.
Everyone else filled out of the chapel in good spirits, slapping each other on the back and letting lovely thoughts brim at the surface of their heads. A couple of women were crying and none seemed to have noticed the bride or groom's jitters beforehand or their pretend laughter after. Well, maybe that was because it was so easy for Pan and Trunks to create the picture perfect couple. Or maybe it was simply because everyone was naïve enough to believe all weddings were happy stories waiting to unravel. Whatever the reason, it was done now and there was nothing left to do but forever hold their peace.
***
Trunks sighed, rubbing his hands across his face in agitation. He didn't know what he was going to do, had no clue how to fix this. He groaned inwardly as he looked down at his sleeping bride, thinking about how wonderful she looked. How wonderful she was. And, thinking how he never wanted to be without her. How could he not have known how much she had meant to him? How much she did mean to him?
It had been a week and they hadn't so much as had a friendly conversation. She wouldn't look him in the eye, she wouldn't touch him or let him touch her. Not even for something so simple as a hug. In fact, the other day when she had walked into the room when he'd just stepped out of the shower, he had a towel on but still, she nearly fainted. He didn't know what they were, but they certainly weren't newlyweds. This was more of a joke than anything else and the sad part was, he deserved every bit of it. He had pushed her this far and he was the only one to blame for the outcome. He wasn't so dumb that he didn't realize things were his fault.
If he thought things could be amended by sending her a million flowers and whispering how much he loved her every single day, he'd already be doing it. If he thought that he could romance her into forgiving him somehow, woo her into believing he was good for her after all, he'd already be well in the middle of it. But he knew Pan, and he knew better than to think so.
This was something that required much more than an apology and some diamonds. This was going to take everything that he had in him, if he even could salvage what they had left. And he had every intention of trying, even if what he was trying for turned out to be impossible. He didn't know how he let things get so out of hand. He didn't know how they wound up turning out this way.
No, that wasn't true, he did know how. He had assumed that she would take everything he threw at her and never once complain. It was selfish, he realized now, but it wasn't completely his fault that he'd thought so. She had been accepting everything he did to her, every little thing, no matter how wrong it was, without once turning away from him. He didn't think she had a limit, and even if he did think she had one, he didn't think she'd reach it on their wedding day. But she had.
For as long as he'd known her he had been taking advantage of her, he realized. And she'd let him. From the time, way before all this started, when he'd still considered her nothing more than a friend, all the way to this very moment. In the beginning he'd just been using her adoration to boost him up, feeding on how well she treated him and loving the attention she gave him, excusing himself by calling her his "best friend".
And then Marron had agreed to marry him and everything was thrown off track. She stopped treating him like a god and more like a man. So he did the unforgivable, he attacked her and made her feel like she was the one who was wrong. Now he understood that that was what his argument with her about telling Gabriel the family secret was, nothing more than punishing her for treating him like a normal person. Someone who had faults. She'd never done that before.
And then he'd ignored her when she needed him the most. When Gabriel died, he had been the only who hadn't sent her some form of comfort. And he'd known, even in his deranged state from missing Marron, that she needed him more than anyone else. He delighted in that fact, fed off it while she suffered. Some where in the soul of him, he'd been thinking that if she had continued to treat him like he was the only one, he wouldn't have had to make her realize for herself. And at the time, he didn't even know what he was doing. Why he was so upset with her.
Then he'd come to her house for Goten's announcement about Marron, and he'd seen the pain written in her eyes. He'd seen how horrible she felt, past the mask that she kept up for everyone. He'd seen only what she let him see. And it tore him up inside, washed guilt over him so quickly that he couldn't stand himself. He couldn't believe what he'd turned into. Couldn't forgive himself, yet she forgave him so easily. But he needed to make it up to her somehow, needed to make her understand how much she meant to him, even though he didn't understand it. So he had done what he'd done, in his office, to reassure himself that he still had a soul somewhere. Only, that had resulted in hurting her more than all the other things combined. Which, in all honesty, had not been his intention.
It had never been his intention to hurt her. He simply always seemed to find himself the reason for her heartache. And that one incident, unfortunately, had not stopped him from hurting her again. No, then he had gone and asked her to marry him while feeding her the lie that he could never love her, when inside him somewhere he knew that he already did. That he just didn't have the courage to admit it to himself. Or he was too blinded to realize it for what it was.
At this point, he honestly didn't know anymore. Maybe he hadn't realized that he loved Pan because he'd always loved her. Because he'd never had to be without her and that love had always existed. He had confused what he felt for Marron as something more than it was simply because it had been new, unexpected. His feelings towards her were constantly spiraling, constantly changing. But his feelings for Pan had been stationary, stagnant. Now he realized that he'd never loved Marron.
At the time you couldn't tell me that one day I'd be glad that something that I thought was love was misinterpreted … I watch you sleeping- your body touchin' me, there's no doubt about it: this is where I want to be. You know it's so ironic- I had to lose to win. I want to thank her (thank her again)…
Looking down at the sleeping form of this girl, he realized that his heart had never belonged to Marron the way Pan held it now. He had never needed Marron the way he needed Pan. And he was thankful, Dende he was so thankful, that Marron had walked out on him and turned his world upside down. He couldn't imagine how miserable he'd be now if she had decided to squelch her resistance and marry him anyway. He couldn't imagine the color of the hair splayed across this pillow as blonde instead of deep, rich brown. And he couldn't imagine what he'd do if that head of dark brown never forgave him for this. For this one push too many, this straw that did the camel in, the step that marked him out of bounds. His eyes watered just thinking of that possibility.
If he had stopped hurting her after he asked her to marry him. Or maybe, after she accepted his offer, then things wouldn't be the way they were now. But he hadn't stopped, though it was obvious he'd tried. After her acceptance, the things he did were not nearly as horrible as his previous mistakes, but when you add little things to the big, there doesn't ever seem to be a difference between the two. Especially if the big mistakes were heavy enough, and his certainly were.
He had started treating her like a girlfriend with that lie hanging over their heads. He had smiled down on her with loving eyes and filled her head with insecurities. If he could look at her like that, if they could get along so well, if he could hold her and talk to her that way, how was it that he could not love her? What was wrong with her? He could hear her thoughts about it now, as though he'd been the one thinking them. And yet, she never said anything. Never protested his actions. Forgave his every mistake. Why was it that he'd had such a wonderful person by his side and he still pushed her until she reached breaking point?
Because he hadn't expected her to break. That was why. He must have thrown salt on her open wounds when she told him that she couldn't marry him, and he told her that she had to. Because she'd known, she had to have known, that was why she said what she did. She'd known that he was going to say she had to, because he loved her. That if she hadn't told him she was walking out on him, he never, ever, would have told her. That he had been aware for quite some time that he was in love with her, but had been keeping it to himself because he'd been too afraid to admit it. While she drowned in insecurities, literally dying inside because she'd deemed herself unlovable, he really did love her and just was too selfish to say it until he benefited from it.
Everything he'd ever done, concerning her, he'd done without thinking how it would affect her. Without considering her feelings. Every move he made, every step she took. And about to tell her he loved her had not been any different. She must have realized that, must have been thinking about his selfishness much longer than he had, and that was why she told him never to say it. That was why she pushed him away the way she did. And he deserved everything she threw at him.
But he didn't deserve her, he felt that with a certain clarity that pressed down on his chest and weighted him so that he could not move. She was far too good for him. If he wanted to stop hurting her, finally, he could not let this go on the way it had. He had to wake up, so did she. They couldn't keep living in this fantasy world where, if you said not to mention it anymore, it didn't exist. He couldn't let this go on this way. It was now or never, he realized. But he had to do this right. He'd already messed up their wedding. He had to think about her first. That's what love meant, wasn't it?
He thought briefly about waking her, about talking to her now. But he decided against it, knowing that she hadn't been getting much sleep. He didn't know if it was because she was distressed, because of him, or if it was because she simply didn't feel comfortable with him being there, in the same bed. She hadn't asked him to leave, he'd even offered to take the couch but she simply shook her head of the notion. They were on their honeymoon, after all. And, she'd said, if anyone happen to realize that he was sleeping on the couch on his honeymoon, his image would never live it down.
That was Pan the Pan he knew, always thinking of the possibilities and putting his needs above hers. Dende he hated what he'd turned her into. If she was angry with him, truly, a soul-scorching angry, she should be able to tell him. To yell at him. To punish him for it. But maybe she'd passed the point of yelling at him, passed the point of being angry with him. That thought scared him more than any other.
It was the look on her face as he shifted his body heat away from her, the way her brow wrinkled and her lips turned downward, that interrupted his thoughts and stopped him from getting off the bed completely. He did, however, sit up to watch her. He hoped she wasn't about to do it again–but she did; the second he was far enough away from her, the second his body didn't touch hers anywhere, she curled up into fetal position, drawing her eyes closed tighter. He knew what was coming next, what always happened when she thought she was alone.
He didn't want to watch it happen so he moved back into his spot on the bed. He laid down next to her, pulling her body close to his, wrapping his arms around her as best he could. But it didn't seem to help. She turned from him, trying to draw her body away from his, trying to run from something he could not see. He closed his eyes in frustration, in pain. He hated watching this.
She drew her body out of his reach violently, shaking now from head to toe. Her face contorted until she looked absolutely horrified, her hair was becoming matted to her forehead very quickly. She'd already broken into a sweat. Her head began to dash back and forth against her pillow, the whimpers finally escaping her lips.
He wouldn't watch this, he resolved, moving closer and pulling on her body again. He picked her up, her body falling limp against his touch, and pulled her to his chest. He laid her so that she was fully on top of him, her back pressed onto his chest, her body fitting against his perfectly, and wrapped his arms tightly around her. He rubbed at her sides, making soothing noises, whispering into her ear. She didn't respond immediately, but after a minute or two, that felt like forever, she stopped shaking. Her head stopped moving from side to side next, and then he felt her relax against him. Her whimpers were the last thing to end.
She had nightmares. Whenever she thought she was alone, she had nightmares. And not just any kind of nightmare, the kind that trapped you inside. The kind that grabbed your soul and twisted it, that scared you so senseless you couldn't seem to wake up from it. Every time he'd seen it happen, he wondered how long it would take her to wake up. He'd been trying to force himself to wait it out one day to find out, but he couldn't watch her suffer like that.
Yet, he couldn't imagine how she used to sleep at night. This was the only time she'd ever had someone lying next to her that could grab her when she was having them, that could stop them before she woke from them. That was why he wanted to know how long it took her to wake up. What if, though he hated thinking of the possibility, what if she didn't have someone to wake her up from them one day? People had heart-attacks that way, not being able to wake up from horrifying things, people had died that way.
What if this nightmare thing had just started, this week, and so she had never had to wake her own self up from them? Or, what if Gohan or Videl usually woke her up from them? He couldn't promise to be by her side every second that she was asleep. And he had no clue how bad these things got. She wouldn't talk about them. The first night he'd woken her up because it had scared him so badly, but she wouldn't even acknowledge that she knew what he meant. He didn't know if she was ashamed, being vengeful, or if she simply wasn't even aware that she had them.
He wrapped his arms tighter around her, shaking her slightly, enough to wake her up. She mumbled her protest as she opened her eyes, looking into his face and scowling, trying to push out of his arms. He wouldn't let her go. She glared at him, he didn't care.
"You had another one, Pan." He told her simply, his voice hardening even though his crystal eyes betrayed his concern.
"Another what, Trunks?" She asked, agitated and still trying to push away from him.
"Nightmare. They're coming quicker now, and getting worse much faster. Please talk to me. Do you remember them? Do you know what you're dreaming about? Have you...have you always had them or--"
"You could try minding your own business sometimes." She interrupted him bitterly. He sighed and buried his head in the nape of her neck. She protested him, of course, by trying to yank her body away from his but he wasn't letting her go. Not this time, not today.
"Like it or not, you are my business, sweetheart. And when you break into cold sweats, start shivering and whimpering, and looking like Bebi has come back to possess you, I have the right to be worried about you."
"You don't have the right to care about me at all, Trunks. I'm nothing but a contract to you, remember?" He winced, still not moving his head or letting her get up, though she was still trying.
"Okay," he said after a moment of silence between them. "I deserved that. In fact, I deserve much worse than that. Is there nothing I can do to redeem even a little of the respect you once had for me?" He waited a long time for her response, more than two minutes, he was sure, before he decided she wasn't going to answer. And that mean 'no'. Which meant he was fighting a losing battle, but he refused to walk away before he told her everything.
"All right, I can't say I'm not hurt, I am, but I also can't say I don't deserve that either. I'm not walking out on you, Pan, you're going to have to kick me out. And then you're going to have to fight me to get me out. I was wrong about so many things, so many things that I'm so tired of being wrong about. And even you have to admit that, at the end, I tried to make things right. I must have tried to tell you how I felt a million times and just could never get the words out. Or you wouldn't let me get the words out. And I'm so sorry, for so many things. But one of those things is not, and never will be, that I married you. No matter how you treat me or how this ends, if it ends. This will always be the best thing I've ever done, I promise you that.
"I just did it wrong. Went about things the wrong way. For that I am sorry. I never, ever, should have lied to you just to get you to marry me. I never should have told you that I couldn't, that I wouldn't, ever love you." He felt her body tense, knew she was about to say something, about to try and get away, but he wouldn't let her. "Pan, be still. I'm going to say this whether you want to hear it or not so I suggest you stop fighting it." He waited until she was calm before he started again. It took quite a while.
"Okay. I never should have lied to you. But I also shouldn't have kept the truth from you. I should have told you everyday from the moment I realized it, how much I love you. I should have made you hear it even when you didn't want to. There are a million things I should have done, and a million things I shouldn't have. And I'm so very stupid to just be admitting it.
If you expect me to live by what I told you before the wedding, then I have to be honest with you. I can't do that. I can't pretend I don't love you–well, no, that's not true. I could pretend I didn't for a time, I've done it before. But I won't pretend. I wouldn't do that again, it hurt too badly the first time, for both of us. So if you're not happy about that then there's only one thing left for you to do.
If the thought of me loving you, the way I love you now, for the rest of my life makes you so uncomfortable that you feel like you can't stand it, I would never ask you to do something you'd be miserable doing. I know, I asked you to marry me and live with me even though I wouldn't love you, and I knew you'd be miserable about that. But I've already said I made a lot of mistakes." He added before she could bring that particular event up.
"What I'm saying is, now, I wouldn't ask you to do something that you felt you couldn't be happy doing. I just wish I'd had the courage to tell you that a week ago, instead of waiting until it was already done."
"What are you trying to say, Trunks?" She finally spoke, her body tensed, her voice cracking slightly. He wasn't sure why she sounded so on edge, except maybe she was upset that he had just done what he promised he wouldn't. He'd told her he loved her. He hated that the thought of him loving her made her that uneasy, but he'd brought in on himself.
"I'm saying that if you can't stand me loving you, and you want to get this marriage annulled, I'd sign the papers without contesting. Because, though it's been a hard lesson for both of us, I finally understand; you can't make someone love you the way you want them to, and you can't stop them from feeling the way they feel. They've got to come to those feelings and conclusions on their own, there is no changing what's real. I'm so sorry I put you through this, sweetheart. I wish, I mean I know it doesn't matter what I wish, but I wish we could just start over. It'd be so simple if I could meet you again and value you the way you were meant to be valued. But I can't. I just hope whoever does meet you the next time, whatever guy is lucky enough to actually make you happy, I hope he always sees you the way I do now."
Then he loosened his arms, allowing her to move away from him at her desire. Only, she didn't move. She sighed loudly, letting her head drop to rest on his shoulder as she shut her eyes. She looked as though she were fighting something that was very painful inside. He only hoped he hadn't done that to her as well. But, as usual, he knew he had.
"Why is it that we keep having arguments over the same thing, Trunks? Who's supposed to rescue us from ourselves?"
"I guess we're supposed to rescue each other. And we keep going in circles, Pan, because we're both convinced that we're doing the right thing. But we can't get anything right if neither of us thinks we're wrong. All I want to know is if we stand a chance. I want to know if you think we can manage this thing. If you think you can stand me, Pan. Please, tell me if you're leaving me or not."
Of course, she didn't respond to his question. They merely sat there, listening to each other breath until she felt like she was ready to speak to him again. And when she did, it wasn't the answer that he had been expecting.
"I started having those nightmares after Gabriel died." Her voice was soft, as if she were afraid of what she was about to say. "I don't remember what happens in them, only that they scare me to death. It didn't used to happen every night, only when I was overly stressed. And I always seemed to wake up from them before they got so bad. But I couldn't ever go back to sleep afterwards. I'd tried so many times, believe me. But when you're here, when you're lying next to me, I don't have them any more. Only, when I can't feel you there, when your ki is somewhere else or your body heat not next to mine, I have them worse than ever before. They didn't used to be that bad."
He was quiet for a few seconds, confused as to what she wanted him to say. He didn't know what to say so he remained silent. She started talking again after a minute.
"I used to see him, you know? When I was all alone, when I was very sad. When I stayed in my room all that time after he died. I used to see him there, as if he were real, smiling down at me. I'd try and talk to him, but he was so distant it was like we were speaking different languages. Do you think I'm crazy, Trunks? Isn't that something crazy people do?"
"No, Pan, it doesn't sound like you're crazy. It sounds like you were lonely, very lonely. And alone too often." Again, he could only blame himself for not coming to see her when she needed him. Her confession made him want to cry. Made him feel like scum.
"Did you ever see Marron, then? Since you were so lonely?" There was no bite to her tone, only curiosity.
"Sometimes. Sometimes I'd forget I was alone, I was very paranoid. Maybe even on the brink of insanity, now that I think about it. But, I think it had less to do with Marron and more to do with me. I've always been afraid of being alone, you know that. It drives me insane."
"But you didn't try to talk to someone that was dead, though. Did you? No, only I'm crazy enough to do something like that."
"Pan, you were overly stressed. You were taxed and your body simply wasn't able to handle it all, you know that's why things happened that way."
"Yeah? Is that why I let you touch me the way you did in your office? My mind couldn't handle refusing you? Is that why I accepted your proposal even though I knew it would never be enough? Is that why I married you even though I knew you were going to do something like this to me now? Because I'm not crazy? No, Trunks, I have to be." He was too afraid to interrupt her, though he wouldn't dare anyway, because she had given him the courtesy of listening to him while he spilled his heart. So he simply sat, with her wrapped in his arms, as listened.
"Why do you do this to me? I had finally resolved that you wanted a marriage without love, had finally figured out how I was going to shield my heart and soul against it, and then you go and do something that makes me wish I hadn't hurt you in the first place. I mean, you don't deserve me, Trunks. I know that, the better half of me knows that I've always been too good to you, always let you have your way. But then reason comes into play and it tells me that all this is my fault. That if I hadn't let you have your way, if I hadn't made you who you were today, I wouldn't be dealing with this heartache. That however you are, whatever you've done to me, I deserve it because I've put up with you. I've put up with everything you've thrown at me and left you no choice but to keep dishing the pain.
And just when I resolve that you're the most selfish, most heartless man I've ever met and I shouldn't give you the satisfaction of knowing I love you, you go and say something like that to me and you make me want to cry. You make me start re-evaluating everything in my life, and everything that matters. And I hate you for it."
He wanted to ask her what this meant. He wanted to turn her around and kiss her, wanted so many things he could not have. Instead he sat, barely allowing himself to breathe for fear that she would realize that he was still sitting there and stop pouring her heart out. But she didn't stop, and she didn't care that he was there listening either, she wanted him to hear it. Every word.
"I hate you for every time you've made me cry and every time you've made me smile. I hate that you love me, but I'd hate it more if you didn't. I hate that I can't just turn my feelings off, the way I turn off tap water, and then never want you again. I know you're bad for me, have always known that I'd be the one hurt in the long run, but I just couldn't ever say no. How am I supposed to say no now?"
He wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer, wasn't sure if he could answer. She had turned her face into his neck as she spoke, her breath caressing his neck as she basically told him she loved him still. That she wouldn't leave him now. He would have lost himself in her completely if he hadn't realized that she was also saying that she wanted to leave him, that she simply couldn't.
"You should conserve your energy, there's no need to hate me for all those things. I hate myself for every time I've made you cry enough for the both of us. And if I thought I could fix your pain by telling you I'll never do it again, I would. Because I mean that with all my heart, but I can't promise it. I learned something very important throughout all this. Never say never. I said I could never love you and here I am. I said I would never lie to, would never hurt you, and here I am." She raised her head to look at him, chocolate eyes pleading with him for the answer to her question. She wanted an easy way out that he refused to give her. He put a hand on her chin, keeping her eyes locked with his as he finished.
"So I won't tell you that I'll never make you cry again, if given the opportunity, but I will tell you that I won't do it on purpose and I'll always be there to help dry your tears every time I manage to screw something up. And I can't tell you how to leave me, either Pan. In fact, even if I could tell you I don't think I would. I love you too much to show you to the door that leads out of my life. If you're going to walk out it will be because you found the knob yourself and turned it. I couldn't live knowing I assisted you in leaving me. I honestly think, if we try, that we can make this work. Sweetheart, I want you," He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, she had shifted her body so that her head could move closer to his, and her lips captured the words before they could flow out of his mouth.
She kissed him with a fervor he'd never known her to possess before, twisting her body around so that he had better access to her mouth. She opened it without prompting and he did not hesitate in fulfilling her silent request. They dissolved into nothing but lips, hands and body heat as pushed him back against the bed so that she lay on top of him. They separated to catch their breath and Trunks took the opportunity to voice his confusion. But his mouth wasn't working with his brain and what came out was not a question at all.
"You didn't let me finish my sentence." He informed her with feigned annoyance.
"I liked your sentence better my way." She smirked, moving her body until she straddled his waist, a playful look in her eyes.
"But all I got out was 'I want you,' you didn't even hear the..." He stopped, smiling slightly as his sentence trailed off. "You know, you're right, I like my sentence better that way too."
"Smart boy," she congratulated teasingly, moving her hands to grab at the bottom of her shirt. He put his hands on hers to stop her, all seriousness coming over his face.
"Pan, if we do this you can't get it annulled, you know that right?"
"I am aware, Trunks." She tried to swat his hands away, looking slightly annoyed with him.
"Then that means you don't want to leave me after all?" He sounded very hopeful as he said it, even amusing to his ears. She snorted her response.
"Oh, no, I still want to leave you. But I never would, we both know it. I'm hopeless when it comes to you."
"I don't want you to be stuck with me, Pan. I want you to want to be with me." He challenged, his brows furrowing together.
"Trunks, if I didn't want to be with you more than I wanted to leave you, I'd have already walked out that door. So, would you quit stalling? Do you know how long we've been married for me to still be a virgin?"
"Seven days, four hours, sweetheart." She laughed because he knew, without pause, right down to the hour. She lifted an eyebrow at him before she shoved his hands away from her, raising her shirt above her head.
"I still think I should complete my sentence, Miss Impatient."
"It's Mrs. Impatient, to the pot that calls the kettle black, but please, go ahead if you must."
"I was going to say," he ignored her biting sarcasm. "That I want you to know how much I love you. How much you mean to me."
"If you really wanted me to know," she challenged, leaning down so that her breath swept across his lower lip as she talked. "You'd show me instead of tell me." Her hands were working the buttons on his cotton shirt as she spoke, ignoring the fact that he was obviously looking for more conversation and less touching from her right now.
"Pan," He tried again, wanting to make sure that she wasn't about to make a big mistake by rushing into something she didn't want. "Don't you think we should,"
"I think you should help me get these buttons undone and start acting like you know what you're doing here. I'm the virgin, remember?" When her little fingers, scorching hot on his cool skin, ran across his chest that settled matters in his mind. She was right, the shirt had to go.
There were nearly completely undressed before he paused again. He couldn't help it, he needed to know. "Pan," He stopped her, grabbing hold of her little wrists. "Do you forgive me then?"
"I'd already forgiven you, Trunks."
"When?"
"You know when. When I told you about my nightmares, when I stopped fighting your hold on me. You knew then I was going to stay, don't pretend like you didn't."
"It would have been nice to hear you say it." He mumbled, frowning slightly. "Do you love me?" He asked without a moments pause, his breath caught in his throat.
It would be his payback if she said she didn't. If she said she was just attracted to him and couldn't help herself. It would be exactly what he deserved if she said she couldn't ever feel that way for him again, or if she said she never had. But he honestly didn't know what he would do if she looked him in the eyes and said she didn't know what true love was, therefore could not answer that question.
"Now you ask me this? Now?" She looked down at him, trying to get him to realize how ridiculous his question was, but his facial expression would not ease up. The anxiety that she saw there would not lessen. She sighed dramatically before flipping some hair out of her face.
"I need to hear you say it first." He nearly pleaded, running his hands up the sides of her stomach as she shivered against his touch.
"Of course I love you, Trunks. I've always loved you, you stupid idiot."
"That insult was very redundant."
"So, sweetheart, is this conversation." She said 'sweetheart' with a sarcastic tone, mocking the endearment he always used on her.
"Sometimes it's good to hear things out," She cut him off with a kiss so passionately controlling it let him know, without words, that she was not to be interrupted again. Under no uncertain terms.
If she would have been faithful, if she could have been true, then I would've been cheated; I would never know real love - I would've missed out on you…
A/N: I can't do Review Responses this time - so very sorry. But I'll try to the next time I update. Please review so I can know who's still reading this so that I can know if it's worth continuing. Only two-three more chapters. Maybe not even that much. But this could very well serve as an ending if no one's still interested. Thanks a bunch for sticking with me if you've read this. I owe you so much!