A/N: I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, I didn't want to write this chapter. It was inteded to be very long and I've found myself unable to get through it. So you'll notice that it cuts off rather abruptly at the end and that's because I thought "Shit, I'm never gonna get through this. Oh well, might as well post what I have."

This story is going to go on what I hope is temporary hiatus. Leave some encouraging reviews, so maybe I can pick the story back up sooner. To all my fans, I'm terriably sorry about the total crap that is chapter 4.

Disclaimer: I don't own D N Angel.

Why does the telephone always ring at the most inconvenient of times? What good are the damn thing anyway? They just make you lazy. I think we should all go back to writing letters. Boy, would that kill Risa.

"Hello?" I answered through an exhale, failing to disguise my panted breath.

My feet shifted anxiously in the growing pool of water around them at the delayed reply. The truth is that I had just sprinted out of the shower at the sound of the phone and was standing in the middle of the living room sopping wet like an idiot. See why I hate phones?

"Ms. Harada?" my grip tightened around the towel across my chest at the unfamiliar male voice.

"Yes?"

"It's Dark Mousy, we met at the laundry place," the voice on the other end announced smoothly.

"D-dark?" It took a moment for my thoughts to recoup," I don't remember giving you my number."

"No, but you did tell me your name," he laughed. "Lucky for me, there's this thing called a phone book."

"Well that doesn't give you the right to call," I immediately took the defense.

"With the way you ran out of there so fast, I was afraid I may not see you again," he justified.

"Oh really?" I began twirling the phone cord around my finger absent-mindedly, taking more interest in Dark's intentions. "And was seeing me again that important?"

"Of course," I could pratically hear the smirk that was undoubtedly forming across his lips, " did you really think I'd let a gorgeous girl like you slip through my fingers?"

A small sound of irritation escaped my throat as I attempted to quell my anger. After all, shouting was bad phone etiquette. But in his own stalker-ish way, Dark Mousy was rather charming. The pure astonishment that a beautiful man was actually hitting on me was gradually getting the better of me, tempting me to humor the playboy. "And?"

"And I thought I could possibly change your mind about that date," he supplied.

"Tonight?" I shook my hand furiously, trying to untangle it from the cord.

"Unless you have other plans?" his voice never faltered."Come on, I'll even have you home by eleven if you want."

I glanced over my shoulder at my unmarked calander. "You're lucky; tonight's the only free night I have."

"Great," he cheered calmly. " Where should I pick you up?"

"Hm," I bit back on my bottom lip. It's true that I'm rather reserved, but Dark's determination wasn't exactly in the norm. Most guys would shrug of there loss and move on to another girl. Why was he so set on me? I don't know much about stalkers,murders or rapist, but I wasn't willing to take the chance. Okay, maybe I'm the one who's been watching too many Lifetime movies.

"I'm not so sure I'm too comfortable with you knowing where I live just yet. How about I meet you infront of the laundry mat?"

"I guess I am a little forward," he chuckled softly, "but if that's what you want. I'll see you there at eight."

"It's a date," I added with sugarcoat of mock cheeriness.

"Til then."

"Bye."

"Good bye."

What a sleeze I thought, resting the phone back into its cradle. Oh well, if the guy was that driven to see me again the least I could do is give him a chance. Whiping my brow with a sigh, I realized how wet and clammy it was. SHIT! I panicked in mad rush back toward the shower. I only had an hour to get ready.

The sound of my heels clicking along the pavement only brought to my attention how ungraceful my steps really were. The thought of me in high heels was foreign and slightly atrocious in itself. It's true it had been quite sometime since my last date, leaving the fancy footwear without much use. Somehow with every date I'd been on, I'd managed to pick out all these unpleasant traits about my companion and various other reasons why we shouldn't be together. Or to put it simply: "Hi my name's Riku Harada and I'm completely terrified of a commitment of any kind, because I'm afraid it my incovience my life?"

Rounding the corner, I found Dark leaning casually against the laundry building window. He was dressed in black slacks with a ebony button up collar shirt, accented by recently polished dress shoes. I can't say I was in the least bit surpised, coming from a guy with a single colored wardrobe.

It looked as if he had made some effort to tame his multi-lengthed lilac tresses...and failed miserably. Yet the unruly mass seemed to fit him, elegantly framing his slender face. I couldn't imagine him with a clean cut hairstyle; it wouldn't suit his free spirit.

Smiling, he pushed himself from the window using his heel and strolled my way. His mauve eyes danced to life upon settling on me and I found myself blushing under their intense stare.

"Wow," he murmed airily.

"What?" I blinked.

"You look-"

"Different?" I interrupted.

"Yeah," he grinned, " considering I haven't seen you in anything other than sweat pants."

"Hey I was doing laundry!" I defended.

"It's okay," he took my hand," you don't need to explain. You look lovely either way."

And there was that damn blush! Suddenly I felt like a school girl; a place I certainly didn't want to be again. I shouldn't be so unsettled by this. It wasn't like I was trying to impress him. I definately wasn't a supermodel and this guy was laying on the cheese mighty thick. But even through all the cheesy lines and goofy grins, he still managed to be sauve.

Concluding that I worry too much, my grip firmed along his palm as he lead me toward his car. Glancing briefly into his wine colored eyes, I was reassured that if anything it was garunteed to be an interesting evening. Cautious Riku Harada would just have to wait at the door.

Stepping into the club- labeled the Blue Note- was like an attack of the senses, because I was immediately hit with the bitter scent of booze and enticing tunes of jazz. Over all the outline of the place was set up like any other typical club, yet still managed to be quaint. Large blue musical notes where painted across the walls leading up to the stage where the band was performing, busy entertaining the crowd of dancers before them. The wooden dance floor appeared as if it had been freshly polished, only scathed with a few minor scuff of the shoes. To the back were a group of round tables where the less intrepid sat, bobbing their heads and sipping their drinks. Along the right wall was the bar, where most of the singles seemed to sit and mingle. The room was dimly lit with a few fluorescent blue lights, giving the place a mood all its own.

I didn't realize that I'd been gaping until Dark's hand on the small of my back ushered me out of my brief reverie. He chuckled amusedly at my surprise and led me out unto the dance floor. By now my cheeks were red and his snickering had evolved to all out laughter at the awkwardness of my steps.

"You're thinking too much," he critqued.

"Well if that is isn't the oddest insult I've ever receive," I breathed sarcastically.

"It wasn't an insult," he swiftly adopted a serious facade. "Just listen to the music and follow me."

There was never a doubt in my mind that Dark was a great dancer. It was just one of those things that seemed to radiate off him and you just assumed that the trait came with the whole alluring package. But I'm not sure the word "great" does him justice. No, Dark Mousy was a marvelous dancer.

His moves were fluid, elegant and easy to follow. Every twist of the hips and turn of foot was perfectly in sync with the music, and God help me if he didn't look absolutely delicious doing it. But all those thoughts were at the back of my mind at the time. The only thing I could focus on were his eyes; they never left mine. Two amethyst orbs burning or even searching for something within my own. I felt a bit uneasy, a bit excited. Truth is: my heart was racing.

I'm not sure when we stopped moving. The band had stopped playing, taking a short intermission. All I know is that we were still standing in the middle of the floor, eyes locked in an unyielding stare. The world had paused and I didn't care. And then it happend, he smiled and the spell broke. My ears were suddenly filled with the cacophony of ice shifting in glasses and bustling conversation.

"What?" I murmered dazedly, curious as to why he was grinning at me like an idiot.

"You're a much better dancer than I expected."

A/n: I still feel as if I've lost Riku's character. Any suggestions?