Try
Chapter Two
Lasting Impressions
Owwwwww!
The sudden stab of realization, coupled with the stinging pain that she was left with, was like a frantic, final gasp of oxygen to an ecstatically ignorant, oxygen-deprived mind, and it was then that she grew infinitely aware of the acrid taste lingering inside her mouth and of the warm substance sliding silkily over a tender and newly inflicted wound.
It was blood. Her blood.
She quickly drew a quivering hand un-stilled by disbelief towards her lips (the bottom half rightfully swollen and tinged an angry shade of red) and smeared a thin scarlet line across the backside of her hand defiantly.
Téa had certain qualms when it came to blood—she didn't like seeing it, nor did she like tasting it—and people closest to her could attest to that fact, but he, on the other hand, was very much a stranger to have known her likes and dislikes, in spite of the intimate scene that had taken place behind closed doors…
An earlier thought she'd chased away returned all too conveniently at that moment, and she found herself in total agreement, hands down.
He must be a sadomasochist.
That was, really, the only explanation good enough for all this!
Blue eyes that were once glazed over with a mixture of unidentifiable emotions now sparkled with a fervid intensity that not many people could elicit very easily, and the only living, breathing exception to that rule happened to be a safe ten-thousand-some-odd-miles away!
Lamentable as it was that he wasn't here in person to give him a piece of her mind (and then some!), the next possible recourse left to her was to redirect her burning stare at the offending letter she held in her other hand, hoping that it would spontaneously combust then and there.
No such luck of that happening anytime soon, though.
Time, she knew, was a variable she couldn't possibly do anything about but accept, and she accepted the gradualness of its deliberately unhurried movements as it winded down to the next hour and the next, just as it had done for the past six uneventful months, but that did little to explain why it had to be her.
It also did little to ease the growing resentment she felt towards the addressee of what at first glance, appeared to be an innocent letter.
Damn you, Kaiba…
She sighed, understandably frustrated as she sank down to her knees, feeling as though a cumbersome weight had been placed once more atop her shoulders. Looking at the polished glass surface of her mother's treasured coffee table just in front of her, she saw a familiar face, however faint in its reflection, staring back with the same measure of distressed contemplation.
Even the walls of her own home no longer seemed to provide a fitting sanctuary from the impressive, ever-permeating presence of anything to do with Seto Kaiba, and school, school was a joke!
Spewing gossip on a daily basis was something customary for most students at Domino High, but when it came to the insanely wealthy teenager's glaringly obvious lack of attendance--conspiracy theories shot to ridiculous proportions, almost roughly comparable to the extent of said teenager's ego…
There was this one popular theory stuck on everyone's lips nowadays (she was deadly certain Joey had a hand in its conception)—one purporting that Kaiba had gone "under the knife"; a natural and yet extreme measure to change his appearance when considering his very public defeat at Battle City, and his prolonged absence seemed to only support what was assumed as the "recuperation" process.
She doubted that highly though, as did Yugi, but just picturing him with a botched nose job was enough of an incentive to provoke an infectious grin to form fleetingly over her aching lips.
There was something else vaguely amusing in the midst of everything she had been forced to endure so far, something morosely dark in its humour--since their parting, she still couldn't quite manage to recover herself; much less collect her unhinged thoughts and emotions. She was silently all over the place, and no one had a clue.
Wasn't that something to laugh about?
Maybe he was the only one laughing at her plight from behind a veiled partition, kind of like one of those classic masterminds who sadistically pulled at the strings of the helpless protagonists involved. Just then, her eyes skirted around the perimeter of the living room cagily, half-expecting her random thought to take shape, but of course, it didn't; solitude prevailed throughout.
Wonderful! She had somehow contracted his deep sense of paranoia!Perhaps the worst thing about this strange affair was that her mind absolutely refused to let her forget about what occurred in that restricted, poorly lit entranceway—her first ever kiss, and it was a heated, passionate kiss at that.
It may have started out clumsily--hands fumbling all over the place, lips pushing awkwardly against hers in a way that was still aggressive and demanding--but she didn't push away, once his hand let go of hers, she didn't do a damn thing except reciprocate with the same degree of earnestness and need…
At the very least, it wasn't in his nature to completely disappoint; she knew that now.
Ugh. This so wasn't fair! Truly, it wasn't.
And she'd be an even bigger fool to let him have his way again.
A part of her wanted to toss away the letter, to rip it into miserable, itty-bitty shreds, but there was that nagging other half, the inquisitive side of her that wanted to see what it said…maybe it was an apology, an apology for running out like that, or an explanation…
But that was a stretch.
And yet, it was also not such a far-off possibility considering…
Taking a deep breath, she unfolded the letter for the second time that evening and began to read.
Téa,
Meet me at the Domino Pier at 8:30 tonight, without your tag-along… friends.
This just concerns the both of us and no one else.
I trust that you've kept certain events 'secret' these past few months, and though you
might not believe it, I value your discretion.
If you want some clarification, you know where to find me.
S.K.
P.S. Try not to draw unwarranted attention upon yourself if you don't mean to get caught.
No, not an apology.
And this definitely wasn't the night to take part in a little tryst.
Her friends would be arriving in less than half an hour's time because she promised to have them over for dinner (it was lasagne night at her house), and she was not one to go back on a promise.
Unless, of course, there was a really, really good reason to.
A dilemma soon presented itself: she did want to see her friends, have them over like always—but, tonight, tonight was different because he was back, and it wasn't so often that she saw him at all—what should she do?
What was she thinking! There shouldn't even be an alternate route to go about this!
It's not like she honestly cared what he did with his life anyway, he seemed to navigate his life just fine before knowing her, and he could do without now.
That would be most appropriate.
She would simply continue on with her business pretending that the crummy letter never existed and that nothing was amiss, and soon, everything would return to normal…
But what was 'normal', really?
Was it sitting anxiously by the phone most days, knowingly awaiting a call that would never come?
Was it dreaming a dream that seemed to be more of a hollow deception while she was out with her friends?
As she thought about it, it wasn't fair for her friends to have someone who dimly paid attention at appropriate intervals, and it wasn't fair for her either.
She did try to forget, put all of her effort into pushing aside impossible thoughts with an even more impossible, unattainable person, but in the end, he always ended up taking residence inside her head and (this thought was the most frightening to consider out of all of them) her heart.
She could safely admit to herself that she wasn't in love, because that wasn't what her situation was, not even remotely close! His abrasive-like-bleach personality was a far cry from what she would consider romantically endearing.
But with the way things stood right now, did she honestly have anything to lose?
He had already seen her vulnerable and defenceless, in fact, he was the very person who had put her in that humbling position.
So that wasn't anything new.
She wasn't the type known to back down either; she'd lay all her feelings, all the confusing emotions that had accumulated day by day since their kiss, down on the proverbial table, and if he hated her for it…then, she'd just have to learn how to deal with that.
All she needed was one answer. Even if it was accompanied by a cold slap of reality.
Who better to give her that remedy than Kaiba himself?
Before she knew it, she was already at the door, her bare feet ready to pound against the cold pavement, that is, until her senses came rushing back to her, reminding her to slip into something more suitable to the weather outside—like her winter coat and boots—it was the middle of December, and at night no less.
Only he could make her behave so stupidly…and by definition, that wasn't so much of a good thing.
Ready with an excuse to shout up to her mother for her reasons for leaving, she stopped short, remembering that she was away on business in Indonesia.
For the next two weeks, she'd have the house to herself.
Silently berating herself for her absentmindedness, she quickly scrambled towards the phone, snatching the notepad that was idle right beside it, jotting down her excuse, and then into the kitchen to check if the oven was off (which it was, much to her great relief) while simultaneously searching for a piece of tape.
Finding what she was looking for, she stuck her message on the frosted windowpane by her door, hoping that her friends would see it, should they arrive beforehand and notice the house empty and devoid of life.
She took one quick glance at the clock on the wall before locking the door behind her; only ten minutes to 8:30, she prayed she would make it in time!
White clouds of vapour drifted from her lips and into the cold night as she hastily made her way in the direction of the harbour...
It was all up to chance now, he'd done what he could to help the situation.
Needless to say, it was a little difficult to sound so hardened, and yet a touch sentimental in the letter he had written.
It had to be believable after all, for everything to align perfectly.
Being devious was something imparted to him by age, and boy was he ever!
Phase one of what he referred to as 'Plan B' was already taking shape before his eyes, and he watched secretly from the safety of his bedroom window as his elder brother finally entered the sleek black limo.
He, of course, had sent a letter to Seto, addressed from Téa, using the frilliest, girlish kind of stationary he had seen while passing a drugstore in downtown Domino earlier in the day, and he had purchased a cheap bottle of perfume there as well, spraying the letter ever so delicately with flowery notes of rose essence, vanilla orchid, and daffodil, among other ingredients to be had in the scent.
At least, that's what it said on the bottle.
It also said that it was "sensual and sophisticated, to charm on every occasion".
And well, this was the occasion…
It was only $68.00, and though he couldn't really call it a splurge, he didn't mind the price if in the end his brother would finally snag a girlfriend.
He was old enough to understand that his brother needed someone else he could associate himself with, preferably someone the same age, and preferably someone of the opposite sex. And he didn't consider himself the appropriate substitute…Seto had needs--no, not those kind of needs--but they needed to be met by a candidate who could actually measure up.
And Téa fit into that equation rather nicely. Personal bias was heavily consulted for that decision; aside from the incriminating evidence his brother absently gift-wrapped for him…
He was mindful to leave no room for error; Seto wouldn't question how Téa knew he was back, it wasn't exactly headline news, but it still warranted a decent-sized place on the front page of the city's two major periodicals, The Domino Tribune and The Daily Observer, added to that, he knew about their dirty little secret, with no effort on his part, all he had to do was overhear a one-sided conversation his brother most probably had no intention of him knowing about…
It was a little too late now to retrace his steps. Not that he would, if given the chance.
With any luck, things wouldn't end on a sour note tonight, or else he'd be in for it the next day!
His big brother wasn't the best person to be around whenever he was in a bad frame of mind.
A mischievous smile lit his face as he watched the limo vanish from the estate and into the wintry wonderland beyond. With some fancy footwork, he moonwalked all the way to bed and jumped excitedly on top of the soft linen covers on what used to be a neatly made bed, something that Seto would have an anxiety attack about if he knew, but that didn't seem to matter so much, as he wasn't here...
Resolving to turn off the light of his Blue-Eyes White Dragon lamp before the maids grew suspicious of the ruckus happening upstairs, he mentally crossed his fingers that everything would work out for the best.
An invitation. That's what it was. Not a 'date'.
There were certain key differences between the two.
The latter implied obligations, often romantic in nature, imposed upon two parties, whereas the former entailed no such hidden restraints and one's presence was (usually) politely encouraged.
This meeting of theirs was merely an offer to straighten out a few things.
And his mind was in accordance with that very idea; things could not remain as they were.
Eyes as dark as the forward pitch of water that just rolled lazily onto shore, were blank of any emotion as he took in the rest of his cheerless surroundings; she was late.
A good fifteen minutes late and counting.
Author's Note: That's all for Ch. 2! I hope the end wasn't too confusing, or the beginning for that matter...hehehe. I was trying to tie it in with what I left off with last chapter...I think it had flow ;D Hopefully I articulated Téa's uncertain feelings concerning our fave trench coat sporting businessman, I struggled with how to make it seem genuine w/out coming off as superficial...
I'm a believer that love needs time to grow and that it doesn't happen all of a sudden with a kiss...no matter how magical it is.
Anyways... I'm working on Ch.3 at the moment, and that's where things start to get pretty interesting...just have to beware of that dreaded "Writer's Block"!> ; I hate having that...
I guess I could leave you with a hint...let's just say the tide of Seto's emotions are turned as Fate decides to play a card of its own!
I'll try to get this one up as soon as I can, but it won't take 4 months this time...:sweatdrops:
Review? Virtual cookies for you if you do! XD
Ciao!
Millefiore