DAY 4 (PART 1): A Deal
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Sakura's POV
Thursday, 12:03 MN
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This is enough.
Enough, E-N-O-U-G-H, enough!
I'm angry now. Truly angry. Very, very, very angry.
Oh, never mind my redundancies. It has just undoubtedly gone over the limit, and I'm not very happy about it at all. Japanese Cinderella or no Japanese Cinderella, argument or no argument, I've really had enough!
No outrageous buts, Li Syaoran, my ever-stupidest master! I'm leaving, and no 'I will kiss you if you do' threats will stop me from doing so, got that? I have a pretty good list of the zillion reasons why I do think this is the exact right time to take action, but here are the top five why I really think it is:
5.) I can't possibly live with that darned cat insisting on residing in my room! Okay, fine. It isn't actually my room (my master's, if I need to be precise), but nevertheless, that's pretty much the only place where I could sleep for this week—literally—considering that he apparently ordered all of their maids and practically everyone in the Li mansion that I'm completely persona non grata on any other bedroom except his. Which only means that I can't even set foot on any room with a freaking BED!
And although that cat started to annoy me just a while ago when we came back from the party (attack is a much better word, I guess), I can't imagine living with two obnoxious Lis around me, 24/7.
I can't possibly stand having a very large amount of long white strands of cat hair all over my face the moment I wake up. My allergy doctor would faint on me—or probably go totally ballistic—when he finds out, like, "You live with a feline? Either you kill that cat or move… the hell… out!"
To either of which I would very gladly and with all my heart obey.
4.) Another thing to stress out: Ling-Ling, the horrible Li family cat, LOVES Li Syaoran, to the point that she would even FLIRT with him or something. Ling-Ling, the horrible Li family cat, HATES Kinomoto Sakura, to the point that she wouldn't hesitate to KILL her. She purrs at Li Syaoran. She just wants to be held by him…
…and she's so going to bite my leg off, or scratch my epidermis AND dermis off my body, or maybe tear my hair off my scalp with those disgustingly sharp little nails of hers.
Need I say more?
3.) The sacred eating ceremony. Oh, wait, I absolutely love the food, no complaints with that. Imagine a clan dinner (appears as an 'eating ceremony' to me, though) held daily at seven o'clock sharp, where the most delicious stuff you could possibly eat are served for free.
Ahh… The perfect revival of the paradise of Eden.
What I like best is—no doubt—that maaarvelous Italian dinner that was served two days ago, although yeah, they're supposed to be 100 Chinese aristocrats who should be eating dumplings or stuff like that.
But still! I'm a sucker for pasta. And no one seems to ever realize that—which is kind of good, because I think the cook didn't really notice that I was the one who ate almost everything of what he made. Oh no, he might ban me from eating another gorgeous spaghetti carbonara again! He terribly looks like someone who can ban people when he thinks he needs to. Scaaary.
So yeah, I love that part (except the banning thing), but here comes the worst part of the story: I don't totally love the 'you-are-dining-with-the-whole-Li-clan-so-you-better-not-do-anything-stupid' law and the 'you-can't-make-any-noise-otherwise-you'd-be-babysitting-another-Li-child-you-food-fight-with' law.
Once, Li (I still can't bring myself to calling him Syaoran! Brrr… Totally scarier!) actually burped, and he got scolded. Burped. Okaayy. That's even weirder than the persona non grata law. The Lis are positively, absolutely, extremely, truthfully WEIRD, I tell you. And I thought communication while eating is good for the family.
Who in the world gets scolded like it's the end of the world when he burps?
2.) Hiiragizawa Eriol. No, it doesn't mean that I don't like him. Yeah, I like him very much (not romantically, that is), but the way he treats Li Syaoran and me as a (knock on wood) happy couple? He's going to shut it up, or else. But apart from that, he's easy to like, on account that he's so nice to me and he's ultimately a gentleman—
Totally unlike SOMEONE ELSE who keeps on insisting that I do all the work while he slacks off and reads his magazines (the ones with him in the centerfold, flashing his worth a million dollars smile, I believe) or purposely just watch me shed the sweat with those oh-so-beautiful eyes.
So, in conclusion, I can't possibly kill such a sweet guy like Eriol.
But wait, there's also Li Meiling, whose eyes seem to be bulging out of their sockets just with the mere sight of me, and Li Mei Xin, who looks totally cute and adorable with her chubby cheeks and all that, but in truth, inside her lies a she-devil, an evil sorceress, a demonic witch—totally opposite to what her name really means, which is "beautiful heart".
Li had the funniest face I've ever seen (oh, besides Tomoyo's picture-perfect expression when she told me about her 'stalker' in high school—she was so grossed out to even think about that four-eyed nerd who wore neon green braces, who, apparently, knows what cup size she wore) when he told me all about the Chinese meaning of that perfect name. The brat's that un-angelic, I tell you—although I love that teddy bear she gave me.
With three members of that Li clan around me and spying on everything I do—or we do—I can't possibly be okay with them suspicious that me and Li Syaoran are going out and doing you-know-what. How in the hell should I have SEX with Li Syaoran! Okay, stop scolding me for being so blunt here, but hellooo?
I mean, he has millions of girls to choose from. And that DEFINITELY doesn't include Kinomoto Sakura.
1.) Li Syaoran himself. Okay, granted, he's exceptionally cute, if his million fans aren't any indication.
He looks like someone who hasn't gotten his driver's license yet (remember: looks can be deceiving)…
No stubble, perfectly shaved (nice aftershave too)…
Broad shoulders (the kind of which you would be tempted to lean on without any reason at all)…
Tall, lean frame (with the kind of muscles that are extremely sexy in a not-screaming-for-attention way, if you know what I mean)…
Strong, big hands with long fingers (which unbelievably make me wonder if my hand can fit perfectly and warmly within his)…
Chestnut-colored hair (that messily but adorably falls onto his intense amber eyes, which, by the way, always look like as if they're going to swallow you)…
And although I hate to admit this, his six-packs are just too... indescribable.
Not that I wanted to or even desired to see the abdominal muscles of my master (or any other parts of his body, for that matter), but I can't help it, especially when he usually comes out of the shower confidently half-naked with only his white towel wrapped around his lower body, a sight for everyone to marvel with and the details to ponder on.
But gosh, where are the manners, I should ask? He should have put on a shirt, at least. Decency, Li Syaoran! I thought you're the president of a corporation, for heaven's sake. Has anybody ever seen a head honcho of a multi-billion corporation walk around exuding some kind of dark force coming within him that says "Hey, I'm rich, I'm gorgeous, look at me and just swoon" just because he's proud to say that he has a million-dollar ass and I—or we commoners—don't?
Okay, he has the most gorgeous abs I've ever seen (not that I've seen a lot of those, mind you. And that's a B in the middle of a and s, okay?), and he's everybody's prince; plus, he's loved by everyone—adored, worshipped, list the synonyms. He's the 'striking young Chinese entrepreneur' who rules an entire corporation when he's just in his, what, mid-twenties? He has everything, from the looks to the riches.
But there's a glitch: a huge one. I bet everyone doesn't know Li Syaoran just well enough to say he's someone with an attitude. Someone who seems to think that he can have anything, anything at all, that he likes… someone who can mess up your entire life with a snap of his finger.
If only there's a chance that I can know him better, then my life could be so much easier… I mean, Tomoyo's kind of friends with him, right? And yeah, he's alternating those totally-opposing egos of his once in a while, so he can be at least manageable at times.
But nevertheless, once he's back to the master-slave treatment or the boyfriend-girlfriend act, that part of him that's pretty much incomprehensible, running away from this pain in the ass is the best solution. So far, this jerk is the best reason why I don't want to live here and stay anymore.
Have to call Tomoyo and tell her I'm going to interrupt her peaceful life for a while. What can I do? I seriously need to have someone to listen to my thoughts—and someone to let me stay for just one night.
Goodbye, Li Syaoran. Sayonara. Au revoir. Ciao. Adieu!
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Thursday, 11:15 AM
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They told me they're going to meet me here in exactly five more minutes, but look, I've been waiting for annoying fourteen minutes and twenty-six seconds already—and there's still no sign of some Gucci bag (a lot of Gucci bags here… have to find one with a small teddy bear keychain—that's what I gave Tomoyo for last Christmas) or some navy blue hair and a pair of glasses that actually looks good on someone.
Hey, why am I always the one who's enduring the pain? I mean, fine. I used some kind of hyperbole, but that doesn't matter. Really, if I could be a TV actress, it's like being the soap-opera girl protagonist who always ends up being maltreated by her evil relatives—weirdoes—who are trying to kill her so they could get all of her share of inheritance.
And I almost thought I was going to be the luckiest girl in the world today.
Those two told me that today, which is the ultimately blissful day after I ran away from Li Syaoran's mansion last midnight, they're going to treat me to La Terrazza Dell-Eden at the Hotel Eden and that I could eat everything to my heart's contentment.
La Terrazza Dell-Eden! The famous Italian restaurant! And that's probably the place where those billionaires spend all their money on, just to get their hands on the most expensive and indisputably the best pasta you could ever find! I've even read an article about it in the newspaper! I heard their ravioli al funghetto tastes like heaven. And I always thought that the insalata carpese from the Italian fast-food restaurant around the corner of my apartment building are to DIE FOR.
I am very much a dull, from the country, naïve, non-socialite girl.
But know what? To my great happiness, Tomoyo and Eriol (I don't know why Eriol got involved with the scene, but bah) promised me a whole you-don't-have-to-pay-for-anything a.k.a. eat-all-you-can lunch with them as a treat!
I don't exactly know why either, but who cares!
Oh, wait. Maybe I really had interrupted something last night, when I came barging in Tomoyo's enormous bedroom, which is about the size of my whole apartment room, and found all the lights off (except the dim light coming from the Plasma TV in front of them) and the two apparently making out on the sofa.
They insisted it was nothing, and although it WAS quite fishy, I kind of just agreed—albeit I've seen quite a lot of the kissing and I could've sworn there's also some tongue action (damn my exceedingly 20/20 eyesight!)—because I was… erm… too stunned to even interrupt. Well, I guess I was too tired last night to argue even more.
Who wouldn't get pooped if you have to sneak out of a huge mansion carrying two heavy bags and anxiously trying to hide that angry, scrunched-up look on your face?
And if I didn't try to screw up my face to form a smile, everyone who saw me would surely suspect that I'm up to something crazy, as opposed to what I told them—that I'm just going to enjoy some fresh air outside.
Right. Fresh air at 12 o'clock midnight and while carrying two huge bags.
Let's add "gullible" to our list of weird things the Lis truly are. Maybe I could publish a book about them and call it "The Li Clan's Biggest Secrets: Revealed".
Anyway, I guess Tomoyo and Eriol are just trying to cover up that incident I accidentally saw last night, or maybe they don't want it out, or they're just trying to use my weakness so I won't tell a single soul. To be precise, it's technically called "bribery", and yup, I took what we call the "bait".
But I don't care. I should just let it drop…
…otherwise, I might not get to have another free lunch in La Terrazza Dell-Eden!
Oh, Sakura, just forget your best friend and her supposedly boyfriend's intriguing, front-page-of-the-New-York-Times deserving kiss scene last night and just be perfectly ecstatic, will you?
I have died and gone to heaven! I'm going to eat at La Terrazza Dell-Eden, eat all I want and until my stomach can't take it, and live peacefully ever after—without having to obey orders from some master, without having to stay in my master's room, and without having stupid cat hair all over my face the moment I wake up!
I'm going to live happily ever after as a free woman of this liberal country!
So here I am now, blissfully sitting on this fancy and comfortably soft royal blue chair, looking all posh and glam just like a top supermodel going to eat her royal lunch for the day; even though I'm only wearing a miniskirt and a simple lilac top.
Anyway, there isn't any dress code in here, is there? If there really is something like that, then those three girls sitting near my table wearing Levi's jeans and French Connection blouses are definitely going to go outside with me, although they look like they're not wearing imitations.
"May I take your order, Miss Kinomoto?" A waiter suddenly appeared in front of me, just like magic or something ethereal, handing me the most elegant menu I've ever seen with a flourish.
I almost gasped with surprise. I guess I'm going to have to work on my habit of slinking away from the real world to my own Fantasy Land; or else I'd really be the last person to know if the Earth gets hit by a comet, explodes, and disappears into thin air. Oh, no, please don't let that happen, though.
I still need to eat here a lot more often before I die.
Putting on what I practiced as my new "million-dollar smile", I told the waiter that I'm going to wait for my friends for a moment longer, so he just flashed that very typical waiter-smile and walked away.
I sighed and looked around for any more signs of Tomoyo and Eriol, but instead, I found a guy in the table in front of mine looking at me and winking when I met his eye. He smiled.
What are you looking at, rich-face! But instead of saying that, I only had the guts to weakly smile back.
I stared down and hid my face behind the menu to cover my blush. Oh, wow. Do I really look that expensive? Whoa, I'm not out of place! Hah! I wish Li Syaoran could just see that. He'd regret every single torture he had made me go through and realize that I'm not just some girl whom he can order around.
The guy was probably close to my age. And he's kinda cute. Although he looks kind of… stiff, he still looks cute with that expensive-looking, long-sleeved shirt and expensive smile. But come to think of it, he looks too… formal.
Kind of cute, but too formal. Like Ken in his usual black tuxedo, with the arm that can be moved in just one direction, a leg that couldn't be bent, and eyes too glassy that I almost thought it could only stare in one direction. Ken as in Barbie and Ken. Almost too good-looking to be true. God, the Ken look is too… 1950's.
I don't know, but Li Syaoran suddenly just popped right inside my head again that very second of conclusion. It was as if that's how he'd look if he would just:
1.) Stop folding his sleeves up to his elbow (just because it's too hot isn't a good reason to),
2.) Fix his necktie properly (not like it was done by a seven-year old, which is the exact case everyday), and
3.) Put on some hair gel or use a freaking comb (because his hair is too messy to look that formal—kind of Harry Potter's hair, which, annoyingly, couldn't seem to stay down).
But I guess after all, 1950s look wouldn't suit him and… and… I would still like it if the casual Li Syaoran will stay.
…Oh my God, what did I just say?
I'm just too hungry to think properly, maybe that's the exact reason.
Oh well. Forgetting the topic, I guess you do feel like a top-ranking businesswoman on a formal business meeting, or a royal hiding from the paparazzi, or a multibillionaire heiress of some huge company inside this restaurant, even when you're wearing just denim minis. I can say that because everyone here (including that guy and the waiter) just seems too… homey.
So Kinomoto Sakura actually can fit in some place like this.
Ah, this really feels good.
SO WHAT THE HELL IS LI SYAORAN DOING OUTSIDE THE DOOOOOOR?
I'm just seeing things. Yes, that's it. My wish that Li Syaoran could just see that guy flirting with me CAN'T just come true. No. Way. I don't even have a birthday cake—and it's not even my birthday!
I'm just seeing some ghastly things. Or I suddenly need eyeglasses. This is just the horrible effect of doing too much slavework for three whole days.
Okay, Sakura. Try to focus more. Your 20/20 vision should be perfectly 20/20 until now, right? Right. So the guy was… wearing a blue, a bit businesslike long-sleeved shirt, which is oddly rolled up to his elbows, just like Li Syaoran would do…
…His navy blue necktie was disarranged against his throat, just like Li Syaoran's…
…His chocolate-colored hair is too messy that he needs a lifetime supply of hair gel, just like…
Nooooooo.
I think I need to start running now—spent too much time gawking at him like a very huge freak—
Oh no, he saw me!
I quickly dropped the menu down on the table and hurriedly told the waiter who had come back for my order that I'd be back just in a minute. Oh, I must have looked totally messed-up. Sheesh. So much for supermodel poise and fitting in.
And actually, I think I won't be able to come back in a while, especially if Li Syaoran is already there being led by another waiter towards my table. MY table!
What in the world is he doing here! And what's going on! I thought Tomoyo and Eriol are going to eat with me and they're going to—
Oh no.
Oh, God, no.
I am so stupid.
A set up.
Athletic abilities in use, I dashed down the hallway and, not finding a good place to go to (or hide into, that is), pushed myself inside the totally classy ladies' room, which is luckily vacant. Fumbling, I locked the door securely behind me.
What are those two doing! So it's like, they planning a lunch for the four of us and then a minute later they'd say, 'Oh, I almost forgot, Eriol and I have something else to do, so we better go', and then flee to the other side of the world?
"I am going to KILL Daidouji Tomoyo and Hiiragizawa Eriol," I muttered under my breath, wiping my unusually damp palms against my skirt.
Okay. Before I'm going to accomplish that mission, I'm not going to panic.
Breathe in… breathe out…
I'm sure there're no cat hairs around, if it's true that fancy restaurants like this don't allow pets inside, so I guess I'd survive without hyperventilating myself to death.
Breathe in… breathe out…
This is totally INSANE. Why am I hiding? I should've faced Li Syaoran and told him directly what he needs to hear.
Iiiin… Oooout…
Oh, that reminds me, I am so going to KILL Li Syaoran too!
Iiiiiiin… Oooooout…
OK. Hush. I'm not panicking. I'm not hyperventilating. I'm going to stay calm. So, first, here's the plan:
1.) Go out of this room smoothly and calmly with chin up, stomach in, and chest out.
2.) Try to be formal and businesslike, so as not to attract more attention.
3.) Walk out like there's nothing special happening and that there's no Li Syaoran sitting on my table.
4.) Call a cab and head directly to apartment.
5.) Go to sleep even though it's just 11:30 noon.
6.) Forget all that has happened.
Great. This will do.
I quickly turned to the mirror and examined my panicking face. Really. That breathing just has to slow down to the normal rate, and that hair that's sticking out in places should be retouched. Just have to make sure I look decent and un-panicking, or I might catch some criticizing eyes.
After a short minute, I took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and…
…walked smack right into Li Syaoran's broad chest.
OhmyGodthisisnthappeningtome.
Repeating prayers for safety and divine protection like a mentally deranged patient inside my head, I sucked in a thoroughly stunned breath and tried to step back with unsteady, shaky feet, just to unwomanly lose balance and be held back in position by both hands of my master.
Oh, swift move.
I think I should develop this new habit of checking my horoscope in the Internet everyday, so that I would know if I shouldn't trust best friends and their boyfriends on a particular day, or else I would end up being humiliated or maybe something even worse…
…like struggling to get my forearms out of Li Syaoran's strong, big hands, which feels just vice-like—or maybe miniature hand-guillotines—on both of my wrists.
So much for that supposed-to-be foolproof plan of escaping that jerk. Oh, why didn't I just think about jumping out from the ladies' room's window? But then again, I won't probably fit, and it's too high on the ceiling, and we're on the fifteenth floor. So I guess with 3 cons and totally zilch pros, I'd normally slash out the idea.
I viciously raked my mind for something sensible to say, like 'What the hell are you doing here?' or something like that, but the pressure's just driving me nuts even more to make me think properly before I leap, so I just went blurting out inanely, "This is the ladies' room."
Damn it, I am definitely going bananas. Why can't I say something that makes sense! I lost my vocabulary. Yes, that's it. Or more like my vocabulary is intentionally not going to cooperate with me, so that I can embarrass myself in front of my master, like I always do.
"Nope, this is the hallway, Sakura. The ladies' room is behind you and the men's room is down the hall." He just smiled like it's a very natural fact and it's the intelligent product of his 1,000,000 IQ. Why can't there be a special time that he's at loss for words?
"I need to get back to my table, so I suggest you vacate it right now."
"So you knew I was here."
Maybe I can't pretend or even lie now. He is just too… supernatural. "I just had to go to the restroom, so that means you can't bring yourself to occupy our table."
"So you didn't mean to ignore me."
The color obviously crept up to my cheeks after I realized what I had just meant with what I said. Okay. This really freaks me out now.
"I… I have to go. Tomoyo and Eriol might be waiting for me outside." I struggled to get his big hands off, but they still won't let go; instead, his hands fully went round my wrists—gosh, I was right, how well they fit together—and gently pulled me more towards his body that I could already smell that musky aftershave.
"I'll let you go as soon as you answer my question. It's been four days. Or let's say three and a half. But you still can't afford to at least be friends with me. When are you going to give in?"
What's he saying? Friends? Yeah, right. We can be friends as in "babe" and "sweetheart" and "honey". I'm surely going to give in when hell freezes over.
"When are you going to give up trying?" I retorted with the same tone as his.
He only grinned. "When hell freezes over."
He would have to mimic my thoughts. He just would have to annoy me till I steam up and hit him square at the jaw. "And when are you planning on leaving me alone so I can enjoy lunch with my friends now?"
"Oh, that. I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet."
I stared at him, wide-eyed, as if a streak of lightning just passed through my brain and made me think very much clearly. "What haven't I figured out yet? Don't tell me t-t-they—y-y-you—"
"If what you're trying to say is that they are just my so trustworthy accomplices and I'm the one behind all of this, then you've hit the jackpot."
I really shouldn't have trusted Tomoyo and Eriol. They're also the ones behind my being a slave after all. And that La Terrazza Dell-Eden eat-all-you-can treat seems too good to be true. Tomoyo's as stingy as a… a very stingy monkey that only cares for its bananas.
God, I should have known Li Syaoran would be the one behind all this.
But there's just no use trying to argue with him more. Even if I fight, I'm sure 99.9 percent that I won't even win. I can't win with his uncanny wit. When I try to explain something, his humor—or probably his professional sarcasm—is pushing the topic aside. Talk about smartness in a different perspective. I just wish I had that special talent to push his humor aside and win over him in a sarcasm competition.
No, Sakura. You shouldn't be giving up now. Not after you've fought for your life and freedom for so long. You've been surviving his authority over you for already four days now! Three more to go!
Even if this sounds truly crazy, oh please, be patriotic for once and stand up to your beliefs, Kinomoto Sakura. Gosh, I bet Tomoyo would be laughing her head off at me if I say that sentence aloud for everyone to hear.
After a few more seconds of silence and mentally practicing my little speech, I heaved a sigh and stood straighter than I was so I was facing him directly, even if I had to really tilt my chin up for our eyes to meet.
"Listen, Li," I began, staring at him, my angry glare and his disgusting sugary gaze held together, and broke the inevitable, "I'm backing out. I—"
I didn't get the chance to continue. I was instantly silenced by a hand gently tilting my chin up and a pair of soft lips gently but firmly closing on mine.
Li Syaoran's.
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Third Person POV
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She hates him from the bottom of her heart—at least that's what she believes. But even with all that, Kinomoto Sakura helplessly let her eyelids drop down, slowly, giving in to what her brain is constantly telling her to do—even though it was at first excruciatingly hard.
She felt her knees buckle and admit defeat as well—a second premonition that the end of the world is near. She didn't know if she had to thank that strong hand holding her by the waist, since her legs couldn't have managed to support all of her.
Her hands instinctively crept up towards his chest, getting ready to push him away or anything that could separate his body from hers, when she, all of a sudden, felt all powerless. Not even a single muscle could push itself to resist Li Syaoran.
And instead of fighting back, as what she had originally intended to do, she didn't realize that her hands instead held on to the collar of his shirt and stayed there as Li Syaoran continued to kiss her.
She should have known that this is what it would be like—to be kissing the most sought after bachelor in Asia… or rather, to be kissed by Li Syaoran. Because she couldn't even picture herself kissing him—although it was beginning to be too difficult not to kiss back, especially when being kissed as thoroughly and as expertly as he was kissing her.
Sakura barely managed to hold back a moan, and a soft, muffled purr came from her mouth unmistakably that she feared that Li Syaoran had heard it and would get ideas. Was that me? she thought helplessly at the back of her head, You CAN'T do that! Do you even know who's making you moan?
It didn't make sense. At one moment, he had made her want to kill him with a shotgun… and at another, he had made her purr like a kitten.
A voice inside her head told her to stop—that it was all going to be something to regret afterwards… and that no matter how she unbelievably liked the way his lips made her feel sensations she'd never felt before, it was all untrue.
But Syaoran's warm lips now nuzzling at the soft spot between her jaw and her ear made her seriously want to consider stopping to resist and just giving in.
That was the very first time she'd thought about that. Sakura, you idiot. Why on earth would you want to give in to the stupid and totally arrogant asshole?
She ought to break that unforgivable body contact and run away as planned, but she slowly realized that it can't be possible at all. With that hand now softly caressing that sensitive spot on the back of her neck and the other possessively but gently moving up and down her back—
…it was inevitably impossible.
So unbelievably ethereal, due to the fact that it was the very first time someone ever made her feel that tantalizingly good.
"No—Li—stop—"
"What do you hate so much about me?" His throaty voice reverberated in her ear. It was a question too hard to answer, because of nothing forming inside her head, for one thing, and that just one conclusive voice made it simply difficult, for another. "Sakura… give me just one chance…."
"I can't—"
Instant shivers traveled through her spine as his lips settled behind her earlobe, gently nuzzling exactly the right spot. Did he know all along about how sensitive her ears are?
She felt his body pushing on to hers, locking her body between the wall and his masculine frame. His weight rested on her body, and his lips slowly made their way to her own, jolts of sensations traveling wherever his lips settled.
They were fierce, yet feathery-soft and light against hers—professional, but what can she complain about? It was her first time to be kissed like that, as he had probably guessed already. She mindlessly parted her lips, slowly, and relaxed everything of her…
She was suddenly afire. No matter how her mind contradicted her actions, she was unable to help herself. She wrapped her arms about his neck, and, buried in her own thoughts—she swore it wasn't really her—she kissed him back…
…and with her pulse racing inside her chest, she felt hell freezing over.
She gave in.
For the very first time, she found herself trusting him. She trusted his hands that held the sides of her face and the fingers that threaded through her hair.
She trusted his lips that softly devoured hers, as if they already knew and understood her for such a long time. She trusted the rich, arrogant businessman whom she had just known for merely four days. She trusted the most wanted playboy—the man who claimed her as his slave.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a question came to mind without warning, making her conscious about everything again: What am I doing?
The answer came crashing down hard, realization hitting her like lightning: Oh God, I am kissing my mortal enemy.
She quickly broke off from him, breathing in huge amounts of air as hard as he was, partly because she was nervous of the thought that a lot of people might have seen them, and partly because she was thoroughly out of breath.
And maybe… partly because it was her first real kiss. It was not one of those quick pecks, or those she can't really feel anything deeper but the mere locking of lips.
No thanks to Li Syaoran, she'd lost it to someone whom she loved to hate with all her life.
She was flushed, she could feel the heat on her cheeks, her lips must've looked kiss swollen, and her heart was still hammering inside her chest.
"It doesn't make sense," Sakura tried to say firmly, but all that came out was a soft whisper, barely audible. Her hands unconsciously stayed on his chest.
"What doesn't?" Syaoran's blasé reply startled her.
Does he even have a heart? She was thoroughly taken aback at how nonchalant he was—considering the fact that he had KISSED her.
And what's more, she could've even sworn that she actually felt something… Like he kissed like he meant it.
"You kissed me!" Every word still came out as a faint, angry hiss, and her hand let go of his shirt with a mere soft push. "Why did you do that for!"
"You kissed me back." He faintly laughed at Sakura's guilty flush.
"But… it still… doesn't make any sense," Sakura softly insisted, wanting to shrink back with embarrassment. Yes, she had kissed him back. And she knew that. It was, to her, a pure mystery still, but what she didn't understand most was the logical reason why he kissed her in the first place.
"I suppose it doesn't," Syaoran agreed, every joking or sarcastic sound of his voice gone.
"Don't just theorize. It really doesn't. Now give me an answer."
Now he was startled at how Sakura's voice had sounded very angry. It was just a kiss—what more did she want to know?
Did she finally realize that somehow, at one point, he had kissed her sincerely, and that he really meant it? Did she finally realize that it was the very first time he had felt such way with a kiss?
No. She doesn't need to know all of those.
"Maybe because…" He raked his mind for anything to say that could sway her attention from every truth he didn't want her to expect things from. "…I wanted to."
Sakura stiffened with surprise and faced him with a glare—a glare that he knew means she wasn't very satisfied at all. "I think I had already made this clear a lot of times. I am not one of those women you can always kiss without a reason, Li Syaoran."
"Wasn't that a reason? I wanted to, and I can."
"See what I mean?" she said firmly when she finally regained all her voice. "I want my freedom. It's me who should decide on who should kiss me. Not the other way around. Why won't you just stop making my life miserable and give up?"
He sighed and guiltily ran his hand though his hair. She was serious, and there's nothing to argue about. She was right. He was wrong. How could he win? "I just… Okay. You win. I'm sorry."
"So Li Syaoran actually knows the word 'sorry', huh?" she angrily spat, and he could've sworn he almost cringed.
"Yes. And I'm pretty educated to know what it means. I'm being honest, Sakura."
She remained silent.
"Let's make a deal, Kinomoto Sakura," he then whispered huskily, seizing her eyes again. "Let's start all over again. We're going out for this day, but not as master and slave or boyfriend and girlfriend or anything. Just as us. And if everything at least works out fine, you'll give this a chance and stay, even maybe for just the fun of it. If not, then you're not going to see me again."
Sakura's mouth hung open as his eyes burned on hers. His eyes, as she noticed, were serious. Intriguing, but serious. It was the very first time he said something like that—it was as if the world WILL be ending soon.
She was about to say no, or anything like that, but at that moment, she felt something stop her. Something that was not, in any way, from her. A lingering thought that confuses her so much: What if Li Syaoran really isn't the man she thinks he is?
One more chance, she said to herself. It won't hurt to give him just one more chance.
She looked down to her lap, and up again to face him. "Deal."
Syaoran only grinned, something that really made her feel that everything's going to be just all right.
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Syaoran's POV
12:10 PM
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"Give me your wallet."
I looked up at her. Okay. Something isn't right. In fact, something is very wrong. This is not exactly the very first thing she made me do, you see.
First, she told me she doesn't want to eat at La Terrazza anymore (I thought Daidouji said she would die for pasta!); then she made me leave my car behind; made me hail a cab; made me pay 720 yen for a very short ride; and literally hauled me in to "take a walk" at this public park, even if I tell her I'm not used to being here.
Now here we are, strolling amidst mothers and fathers running after their children, and kids bawling over balloons that escaped from their hand or ice creams melting down and splattering against their favorite shirt. Very fitting location for a supposed-to-be 'going out for the day' (or maybe half a day), huh?
And what's my slave ordering me to do now, now that she had made me do all those things that were meant to be as her job? (I know there's this condition, but—oh fine, I give up)
Her hand was already waiting outstretched in front of me, palm up. So she's getting me to hand my wallet in. What's next?
"Don't be too jealous. You're not going to find any picture of some woman here, you know."
Her eyes flamed up at me.
"Truly sorry, Ma'am. What are you going to do with it, anyway? You're not going to rob me some money, are you?"
"Do I look like a robber? I'm not that desperate enough to nip out some of your money, mister. I work for my own money, and I'd rather spend my precious time with my children, you know."
I almost stupidly tripped on my own shoe.
"Children?"
Okay, so that proves that even if I know her for four days already, I still don't know everything about her.
Sakura laughed, with this index finger jabbing at me like a cute little kid would do, a cute wide grin plastered on her face. "Gosh, you really should take a look at your face!"
Yeah, I know. I look like a silly, confused freak. Or maybe a fucking stupid asshole in a business attire in a park.
"Remind me to look later, okay? So, your children, huh? And that's in the plural form."
"I didn't know you're that stupid. Do I look like a mother to you?"
Of course you don't look like a mother—or a robber—not with that perfect curve and slender thighs and—oh okay, I'll stop.
But that skirt really looks nice.
And FYI, I'm not stupid, Kinomoto Sakura. I knew that. I'm just being sarcastic, okay? Uh. I think. A little. Oh, fine. I wasn't. I was stupid, OK?
"They're my students," she just continued. "They need a school 'mother', so I guess I voluntarily took the job. They're so cute, I don't mind having to be with them everyday! And that makes it entirely your fault I hadn't been able to see them for the rest of this week!" She made this irresistible cute pout and still held her hand in front of me.
I gave up and with a sigh, finally handed my wallet in to her waiting hand. Her foot had already been impatiently tapping against the ground, like an over-eager little girl who would throw a tantrum if you don't give her what she wants, so I guess I wouldn't want her to make a show in here.
Sometimes I really want to believe that she's just a cute nine-year old kid inside that perfectly-shaped 20-year old woman's body. Now I kind of understand why she and the children got along well.
But I really think I shouldn't say that aloud. Who knows what hospital I'll end up being rushed to after? So I just intelligently remarked, "Oh, so you're a kindergarten teacher?"
She smiled with childish joy as she opened the wallet. "Duh. Thing is, I only work part-time, a friend got me in. Who gets an easy job in all-business-y Tokyo? But I love teaching those little kids, so I really think it's worth all my effort," Sakura explained, not even once looking up. She was still examining my wallet inside out, just like a CSI agent would do.
I mean, I won't keep a crucial evidence for a murder case in there, would I? Nor would I keep some picture of someone in there. I'm not in for commitment, if you ask why.
By the way, if you need to know, the feeling of being in "love" is scientifically just a mere chemical reaction that happens in the brain, entirely caused by surges of something called "phenylethylamine", a stimulant the brain craves.
That fact tells us that no one really "loves" anyone. People just get attracted to another because of our natural mating instinct—or to be a bit frank—sexual desire.
But although that attraction can cause us to be in a state of happiness or Utopia, it doesn't last long, unfortunately. Like with all drugs, the body grows a tolerance for phenylethylamine, and eventually, the attraction one once felt for his or her partner fades.
That's purely natural. And one can get the same amount of phenylethylamine by consuming immense amounts of chocolate, as you can by "falling in love".
So if that's the case, who needs forever commitment?
Damn it. Why am I thinking about this now!
I'm going mental with this scientific information overload.
"So… erm… as their part-time 'mother', don't you think they need a 'father', too?" I tried to strike a nerve to lighten the conversation up a bit—and forget what I was thinking about altogether. I can't afford to be lost with these thoughts now.
You are definitely going mental today, Li Syaoran. Unbelievable.
"Not really, especially if you're the one volunteering." She eyed me warily. I pushed the other thoughts at the back of my head and tried to focus. Okay. So it's as if I'm never going to get along with kids. Hey, I get along with some kids well. Like Mei Xin. Uhh… barely.
"Anyway…" she continued, pulling out a couple of bills and handing me back my wallet. "For this whole day, we're going out—with only 1,000 yen. Don't you try sneaking out a couple more, or you really won't see me again. Got it?"
1,000 yen? That's only like, 10 dollars! "Hey, that won't even be enough for decent food!"
"But we're not going to eat at some 'decent restaurant' that you have in mind, moron. McDonald's is decent, and a thousand is going to be enough for the two of us. Unless you eat three times as much as you should be eating, then that's going to be hard."
So she's also pretty professional with her sarcasm skills, huh? But I can't help but sigh. "So you're saying that we can have a 'decent' date at McDonald's? Hotel Seiyo Ginza is more like it. Or maybe L'Osier. Sabatini di Firenze's good, too. I think we should've just stayed at La Terrazza…."
I'm going to McDonald's for a date? The media would go ballistic and that fast food chain would probably be more famous than it is.
"Okay," I finally said, "I know you just can't say no to this. At Shibuya. Global Dining, Legato."
Thinking about all this food makes me even hungrier.
That reminds me, we still haven't eaten lunch!
"I'm not even saying that we are going to have a 'date'," Sakura pointed out with a glare. "It's simply 'waiting for time to pass'. And you're obviously talking about 20,000 yen per head 'for-VIPs-only-and-no-part-time-preschool-teachers-living-in-lousy-apartments' restaurants. Hello? Legato? You're the only one who could actually belong there, not me."
Okay, I admit. I go to those places a lot. Frustrating dates, uninteresting business meetings, some other kinds of boring stuff you probably wouldn't consider going to, blah blah blah. And they do serve lunch for 200 dollars per person.
But actually, I don't really feel that I really 'belong' there. More like… I just got used to those places. Honestly, all the formality is too much, like what you'd see around your table would be the president of some oil company, a top-ranking senator, a famous movie actress… etc, etc. And I wouldn't want to be all tight and too-ceremonial on Sakura, so I guess I'd slash out the idea.
But really good food once in a while won't probably hurt, right?
"Fine, whatever you say," I sighed again, pocketing the wallet. Really, if it's going to be the other way around, like I'm going to be the slave, with her as the master, I will die—in a figurative sense, at least. "So what can we possibly do with just one thousand yen, huh? Buy some ice cream, or what?"
She smiled and pointed at the ice cream cart standing nearby. "Actually… yeah."
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12:25 PM
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Two Belgian waffle cones of chocolate plus vanilla plus cookies-and-cream ice cream and two—what are those supposed to be called again?—kind of 'twisted balloons' thing, and I wasted 300 yen already (but okay, at least they were in a reasonable price).
But imagine the thing that really made me almost want to throw up:
We're sitting on a swing.
Eating triple-decker ice cream.
With these funny, bunny-shaped twisted balloons sitting on top of our heads.
What happened to the romantic strolling through the grass with the sunset while holding hands? Or sitting inside the movies, watching a romantic comedy film and enjoying the two-and-a-half-hour lights-out? Or the dinner in a nice, homey restaurant with a nice, romantic terrace overlooking the whole city while you could see the lights?
Okay. I know. It isn't going to be a 'date'. But I did say that 'we are going out for this day', and she agreed, right? So what does that mean to her? Oh, why did I ever accept the 1,000-yen-only condition?
I guess I was expecting too much.
"I always feel good while eating ice cream," Sakura suddenly said, breaking the awkward silence between the two of us.
Damn, she still doesn't want to talk about anything serious! So it's going to be like this for the whole day? I looked at her childlike expression beside me, and sighed. "And while having a stupid balloon on your head."
She giggled and began to push backwards and swing up. "Kinda. Dad always bought me ice cream whenever I throw that kind of tantrum—like the one anyone would be scared of handling." She laughed. "I guess it was really effective. Maybe dads really know how to silence up their kids."
"Okaay, so how do the balloons fit in to the scene?"
Sakura giggled more. "I just think they're cute. Don't you think so?"
I didn't answer.
But honestly, I didn't exactly know what to say.
This is the very first time in my life that I ever felt speechless. I was usually the one who makes others speechless. Now I can't help but stay silent in front of Kinomoto Sakura. It's just too much of her to take in. It was as if—every single piece of her should be taken in slowly… bit by bit… genuinely…
It was especially hard to quickly get over on comprehending about her eyes. I don't know, but maybe it's the way that she looks at me. If it's not a cold glare, then it's an angry or pissed-off or grossed-out stare.
I know she probably hates me as much as she hates her being my slave, but I can't help but see how those gentle eyes reveal that she isn't that feisty as she exhibits.
Since we made this deal, her eyes actually looked… heavenly. It was a friendly atmosphere between the two of us, and I felt completely comfortable with her. I felt that I could laugh all I want, snort when I want to, and get lost within our conversations in front of her.
If we had just met as friends, or we've known each other since we've been in OshKosh overalls, maybe she'd look at me differently. Maybe I could really see in them what she thinks or feels about.
Her eyes are just too clear.
But in our case, seeing her eyes and not thoroughly understanding them makes me want to know more about her… her strengths… her weaknesses… faults… achievements… how she goes around daily… her life… everything about Kinomoto Sakura.
What did I do to know her more for the last three days?
Nothing.
I don't know anything about who she really is up to now. But she doesn't know anything much about me either. For the last days, I didn't even consider penetrating her icy cold glares and volcano barriers so as to know her more…
And come to think of it, I didn't try to let her know more about me, too. Maybe I have been intentionally avoiding the subject all the time. Or maybe I'm just not the type of person to engage in storytelling mode and narrate my life story.
That's just not… me. Couldn't anyone understand that?
"Hey, you okay?"
I instantly snapped back to reality, just to find Sakura's hand waving in front of my eyes. I only managed to blink back in return. "Welcome to Earth, Li Syaoran!" she teased and laughed at me yet again.
Damn, Li Syaoran, if you could just FOCUS, REGAIN YOUR VOCABULARY, and SNAP OUT OF IT.
The scolding myself didn't work. All that came out from my mouth was unfortunately an absentminded confession: "I'm running out of things to say."
And what I didn't expect was her guilty, "Actually, me too."
I shot her a short glance and looked at her silently.
Shit. I think I'm the most speechless idiot in the whole universe right now.
Not that there are other idiotic and speechless individuals beyond the exosphere of the Earth, but we can never be sure.
"Hey wait." She stared at me like I'm the most vicious criminal in all of Japan. "Now come to think of it, you've been lost in your own thoughts all the way! Why am I the only one talking here? I don't want to force myself to think of what to say, so you talk, I'll listen."
Things couldn't get any worse. Or can they?
"I don't have anything to talk about."
Sakura pouted.
Does she know that she looks cute doing that?
"Sakura-chan… Honestly, tell me. Are you really just a 9-year old inside a 20-year old woman's body?"
Sakura sarcastically grinned. "Ooh, yeah, Syaoran-chan. I'm nine years old, I love ice cream, and I think animal balloons are cute. And you, aren't you a nine-year old inside a twenty-something man's body?"
I shrugged. "Unlike you, I'm old enough to know I'm hungry and I haven't eaten lunch yet."
She eyed me oddly. "And?"
"And, I'm old enough to know where to go if that's the case."
"Hey, have you forgotten our deal already?"
I laughed. "I know some place where decent food isn't going to cost more than 700 yen."
