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Confrontation

Sakura had thought of a million and one possibilities for this final confrontation, all of which including her turning him away with his tail between his legs, presuming he had a tail in the first place, of course, the liar. None of those senarios included her wearing nothing but a very old, ragged, terry cloth robe over an even older sleep shirt worn thin by the years.

She wanted to slam the door in his face just so she could change and look her best, her most professional. She made herself stay holding the door open, the picture of detached hospitality. Other than that lapse at the office, she never wanted him to know just how much he'd affected her over the week.

He looked even more handsome than when she'd first seen him at The Dewberry that fateful night, but tired, more tired than she'd ever seen him even after a full day of work. She spotted a paper bag in his hand, and wondered if he'd brought her food from Antonello again, and would have let him in just for that. How she had missed Antonello and his delicious food.

Allowing Sakura her own appraisal, Syaoran took in her shapeless, mud-coloured robe, the collar of a frayed, grey T-shirt under it, her flyaway hair, her flushed cheeks and her bare feet. She look wonderful. The sheer awfulness of the past week sort of slid out of him as he ran his eyes from her unpainted toes to the top of her messy hair.

Sakura pasted a bright smile on her face and backed in to the apartment, opening the door wider, saying, "Come in, Syaoran."

Syaoran stepped in warily, suspicious but relieved at her cheerfulness. Maybe she'd already decided to forgive him. He placed the paper bag on her dining table as he passed it, wanting to explain first.

She ushered him to the soft couch, sitting dwon on an armchair across from him, the epitome of the perfect hostess. "Syaoran, I know why you've come," she started. "I think we need to clear the air too."

Oh? Syaoran shifted on the sofa. Was she going to apologize for not trusting him? Well then, he was willing to be forgiving. She'd apologize, he'd apologize, and he could nudge her along to bed. He was still first and foremost a man, after all. And he wanted her like he'd never wanted anything in his whole life.

"Sure. First, I just wanted to say that Mortim-"

"I just wanted to clear this all up before I go to Paris tomorrow." Sakura interrupted. She didn't want to hear him defend himself. It was useless, and she couldn't harden her heart against him; she loved him. Sometimes she wondered if the pieces of her heart would eventually come back together, and sometimes it seemed that they never would.

Syaoran could feel what he thought must have been his own heart thudding in his ears. Panic dug it's slippery fingers into it, and he tried to convince himself he'd heard wrongly.

"You're leaving?" Me? he wanted to say. You're leaving me?

"Yes. Tomorrow. The wedding reception has been cancelled." she didn't think he really needed to know much more.

"What?" He just couldn't wrap his thoughts around it. Having her pissed at him while still in the city was one thing, only being able to see her if he flew thousands of miles was another thing entirely.

"Well, it's obvious we've ended our... personal relationship, if you could consider what we had an actual relationship, you betting to sleep with me and all." Sakura tried to pass it off lightly, but she wondered if the pain showed on her face.

"Wait a second. I didn't-"

"It doesn't matter. Let's just write it off as one of those things which don't really turn out right. We should just move on, you know, Syaoran?" she managed to smile.

Syaoran stood up abruptly and crossed over to her, suddenly angry, the emotion showing in every angle of his face. "Do you mean to tell me you feel nothing for me at all?".

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted two suitcases standing next to the door. His anger escalated, along with his unspoken fears. She was leaving him, it was real.

Sakura forced herself not to look away from his burning eyes, forced herself to remain passive on the surface. How dare he? He had betrayed her, used her for a measley thousand dollars, taken her heart and shattered it, and now he dared to demand that heart all over again?

"What I feel is inconsequential, Syaoran," she said coolly. "You bet Mortimer, whom you knew was my ex-boyfriend, one grand that you could sleep with me, is that correct?"

Syaoran was tired of this non-exsistent bet. It was destroying his life, and he was pretty sure he hadn't even agreed to it! He wanted to rattle that cool exterior of hers so badly. Here he was, frustrated and nearly desperate, and she was all somber and untouched. He moved too fast for her to react.

Lifting her bodily from the armchair, he carried her over his shoulder, caveman style, and deposited her, kicking and screaming, against her kitchen island. Shoving one leg between hers so she couldn't escape, he caught her flailing hands and clamped them under his own on the tabletop. Leaning close, he stared into her furious eyes. His own anger suddenly abated, leaving him filled with only love and lust. For Sakura. He couldn't help but press just that tiny bit harder against her.

Caught in such a provocative embrace, barely able to move, Sakura could do nothing but lash out, feeling tears finally threatening behind her eyes. "Let me go, you sonofabitch! Let me go! You can't manhandle me!". She struggled violently, determinedly holding the tears at bay, blinking madly, promising herself that she'd let them go after he'd gone.

Syaoran studied her face, holding her in place easily with strength that Sakura couldn't help but admire. "No." he said simply. "Listen. I didn't make that bet with Mortimer Davis," he paused, then decided to confess the whole hog. Sakura stared silently back at him with undeniable hurt in her eyes. Syaoran found himself moving closer and closer to her. "about sleeping with you. I told him it was a stupid bet, and he obviously didn't listen. But I did make a bet to take you out those first three times, and I'm sorry, Sakura. I'm sorry."

He ended it on a whisper close to her ear, and all he could hear was her harsh breathing in his. She didn't say anything for a minute. Syaoran put his cheek against hers for several precious seconds, wondering fatalistically if he would lose her forever after this and this would be the last time he'd touch her, and finally lifted his head. Sakura was looking at him out of huge green eyes with such a sadness it squeezed his heart. He lifted one hand from hers over the tabletop and gently stroked the hair that had tumbled all over the place during her struggle.

As he opened his mouth to apologize again, to tell her he loved her, she began to cry. His bruised heart broke in two and sank.

Note: Just wanted to thank Mekana, SapphireStar9, Pink Fire101, ilovestrawberries and syaoran143sakura for reviewing all the time. This is for you guys. Thanks so much for encouraging me to write on!