Crimes of Passion
By dee1600
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Sailor moon characters.
Author's note: I usually read something to get me to sleep at night. This book, "Crimes of Passion", actually got my creative juices flowing that I had to write this story.
Those in love and unsure often assume a mask of coldness that can be a pain in itself. They mock each other. They speak words both careless and cruel. They would die of their secret pain rather than be unmasked.
-- Violet Winspear
Prologue:
I'm on my break and I'm reading the newspaper, laughing my head off on a new sensational headline as I have done so many times before. The headline goes like this "BRITISH BEAUTY QUEEN RAPED A PRIEST"! What story could ever top that? As I look at the details of the story, I begin to become skeptical. Is this for real? Would you believe a very young, famous beauty queen torturing and raping a priest 10 years her senior? I'd say the priest was having one hell of a good time, almost too good, I suppose. Of course, every time I did so I wondered and imagined what it would be like to actually be like this beauty queen, struck by madness --- crazy in love with someone, that is.
I've never fallen in love. Nor do I believe in it. It just seems too impossible, too unreal. I'd rather believe in attraction and the biological need to bond and relate to people, to belong and feel the need to do so. But never the feeling of being in love. There is just no such thing.
Maybe because it has never happened to me.
I'm not the shy type. Despite the geeky glasses I use and the quiet demeanor I exhibit, I do not regard myself as shy. In fact, I can be quite talkative if you ask me. It's just that there are hardly many people to talk to, especially in my kind of job.
I'm a librarian. Yes, the girl behind the counter who goes around hushing people about, telling them to quiet down or else they'll be revoked of their visiting hours to the library. I'm that girl who stamps your library card and stacks the books back on the shelves.
The smell of musty books is my life.
So when this handsome guy walked up to me at the library stairs with a flower and asked me out, I freaked. Who was this guy?