I was only just made aware of policy against songfics. To remedy that, I made up my own song. Only, it was really hard. I drew inspiration from a French song. But this song is mine. Don't try to translate it. It's only DERIVED from French (think Cirque du Soleil). Don't take it. You can listen to "Donne Moi le Temps" by Jennifer to get a feel of the mood of this chapter. It's also a very pretty song.

Sakura opened her eyes to the slow, soft croon of the bass. The spotlight glowed brightly over her, the glass-beaded bodice of her black dress playing with the rainbows that glittered out to the audience. The crowd was larger than usual tonight… She flashed a trademark smile to the sea of darkness as she gripped the mic closer to her cherry lips…

De mon de jean vous lan,
De mon etreme
Pou c'est donne peuvent
De mon d'erou q'un
Si pasionte

The musicians glanced up at her. It wasn't rehearsed. Moreover, they weren't sure what language she was singing, but they continued their notes, easily finding the rhythm in her melodic notes, applying their beat, accentuating the swivel of her hips as she sang…

Del moi la faire
D'accord c'est q'un fau accord
Del moi la faire
D'avignon je le d'amour
D'avignon je le d'amour

Sakura shut her eyes, her long lashes fluttering as she reminisced the sweet Siren's voices in her dreams, awash on cool azure seas, dancing on the foam as the waves crashed on shore… She was singing a language she had heard only in her dream, never once heard anywhere on Earth…

Aurar de ciel,
Prendre, veux prendre faire voir
Aurar de chilon
D'esriree, D'esriree…
Prendre, veux prendre faire voir
Enfants de chilon
Pour toi

The song ended to a thunderous applause. Sakura blushed as she received the bouquet of flowers gratefully, the DJ beginning to put on a dance song, her cue to leave. But just as she turned to step off the stage, her heart fluttered, as if she was missing something, and she scanned the audience again. Her eyes caught a familiar head of unruly chocolate locks.

"Fancy meeting you here," she grinned, setting a bottle of Crown at Syaoran's table. He had seen her coming, and was mildly annoyed for having been caught despite being in the shadows. "Drinks are on me tonight," she winked.

He nodded gruffly as she refilled his glass, the ice clinking in the cup as he lifted it to his lips.

"You're not still keeping an eye on me, are you?" she teased. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Yamazaki glower. She was allowed to mingle after her shows, but it was to promote her image. She knew that chatting with a devastatingly cute guy like Syaoran must get his temper flaring. As if on cue, she saw him reach into his breast pocket, producing a tube of meds to control his blood pressure, and take a few of the small white pills. She smiled; there was nothing sweeter than ending work with her boss in physical pain as she flirted with Syaoran.

Syaoran took a sip of the whiskey, unfazed as he felt her press against his pinstriped blazer, her palms smoothing the imaginary wrinkles of his crisp lime shirt and playing with the opened top buttons. He focused straight ahead at Yamazaki. "Is that an ex of yours you're trying to get jealous?" he asked nonchalantly.

Sakura grinned. Nothing got by Syaoran. "Just my asshole of a boss. I don't particularly like him, so I try my best to make him upset."

It was Syaoran's turn to smile mischievously. He leaned over, slinging an arm easily over her slim ivory shoulders, dragging her into his arms in an intimate embrace. Before she could catch her breath, he tilted her face to his, his lips pressed to her left temple, his eyes never leaving Yamazaki's piercing glare. Sakura gasped softly as she felt Syaoran's hand slide down her back, tracing along her spine and stopping to the small of her back, just above the curve of her rounded bottom. She froze, tempted to wriggle out of his grasp… except he was so comfortably warm.

"And… will this make him more upset?" he whispered softly against her ear, the hot breath weakening her knees as he stroked her hair gently.

Sakura only nodded in response, feeling her cheeks enflamed as she pulled away from his grasp. He released her as easily as he had captured her in his tight grasp. She could see the smallest of a snicker at the corner of his lips as he raised his glass to Yamazaki, saluting him before taking another sip. Yamazaki could only pop a few more pills in his mouth.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Sakura hung out more frequently at Syaoran's apartment after work, taking it upon herself that he was eating properly.

"You can't depend on take-out forever, Syaoran," she admonished as she checked how the tilapia was browning. "It's not healthy."

"Sure it is. Luigi's Pizza tells me right on the delivery box that it's the most delicious, most nutritious food in the world!"

Syaoran ate the fish and rice gratefully in the end, although he wasn't keen on trying the spinach and greens. ("Do I have to?" he whined.)

But Sakura found that she didn't feel obligated to making sure that Syaoran was eating properly. She was growing fond of his company, completely at ease and comfortable in his rather small, but cozy apartment. In her life, Sakura had grown to distrust people. The girls only befriended her to take advantage of her good nature, borrowing money without intent to pay her back; the boys were only interested in sleeping with her. Even around guys she dated that she liked, she had never been able to achieve this level of familiarity with them. She was constantly fretting over what to wear, overly conscious of what to say. Whereas with Syaoran… he made her feel beautiful even in one of his old shirts and spattered with baking flour.

Sakura mulled over this wonderful fact in her mind as she leaned her head against Syaoran's shoulder, listening to the gentle rhythm of his breaths as they watched Pulp Fiction. His fingers were idly combing through her hair, her fingers playing with the knit of his sweater.

"Ne… Syaoran?" she finally asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Hm?" he grunted softly, his eyes watching Uma Thurman's dance moves on the screen.

"Can… can I stay here tonight?"

He was silent for a moment. Sakura held her breath, feeling a blush rise in her cheeks for sounding so brazen. Just as she was about to take it back, he said, "As long as I'm not the one sleeping on the couch."

Later that evening, Syaoran found himself pulling up the covers tighter around Sakura's slender form as she slept in his bed. He lost the bet for the bed against Sakura in a free-for-all death match in Soul Calibur (it's a fighting game for PS2 I love). The sting of losing so badly was mollified slightly by Sakura kissing his cheek before she went to sleep. He smirked to himself as he rubbed where her lips had touched, sighing as he stepped out to his veranda, gazing up at the full moon that glimmered indifferently in the velvet night sky.

"How much longer can she not know?" he asked to the emptiness of the heavens.

Sakura stirred slightly in her sleep, shifting the sheets over her. Syaoran smiled, leaning against the balcony rail as he watched the moonlight spill over her face, illuminating her fair skin and dark long lashes.

"Soon… Soon Sakura, I'll tell you everything."