Did you all simply love my cliffhanger? Haha. Yes, yes, I'm mean, so what? Meh. Btw, it's going to be taking me a lot longer to update now, seeing as I've just started my second semester at college, and my weeks usually have me there from 8:00am to 4:30-5:00 pm (which means I get up at, like, 5:00-5:30 every damn morning to catch the train). I'm going to be writing as much as I can while I'm traveling on the train, and bored in class (mainly Math and Logic, haha), but I will not be able to upload it and all until I'm at home, seeing as my internet at school is a fucking faggot and retarded. Ugh. I'm so going to get sick this term. Yuck. (15 classes in five days, icky).

Anyways, yeah, just thought I ought to let you all know that I won't be able to update practically every day like I was doing at first.

So, I think I get right on to the chapter.

Chapter 7

Kiss the Girl, Hold the Girl

'I really don't know what I'm doing right now, but it just feels … right. I want to kiss her, but I'm so scared. What if she pulls away? What if she shoves at me? What if she kisses back? I'm so confused. Why am I thinking like this all of a sudden? Is it because we haven't seen each other in so long, there are so many built up emotions? Or have I always, deep down, thought about her like this? I used to hate her when we were younger … why do I all of a sudden want her?

'Is it because she has physically matured? Is it because last time I saw her, she was just this scrawny, little thing that barely had an ounce of muscle? Or is just because I haven't had sex in weeks? Fuck, Kami, could you at least try to give me some answers to my questions, some hints? If not, then why? Is this going to be one of those movie stereotypes, where I have to figure everything out for myself? That's bullshit. I hate those movies.

'Do I want her? Or do I really want her? I guess that's the real question right now; it all depends on how I want her, I suppose. But right now, at this very moment, do I want to really take her and show her what a man is like? Or instead, do I want to be gentle and soft, and show her how to love? Fuck, Kami, will you give me some answers? I want to stop asking myself these stupid questions already.

'But those lips of hers … they're so tempting, and full. They just beg to be kissed, to be devoured. I want to devour her lips, and that throat, and the rest of her beautiful body. I want to take her and make her mine.

'She is mine.'

(POV SWITCH)

'Yamato, you're confusing me. I don't know why, but you're really confusing me. What is all this stuff about you kissing me, and the reason being that it is tradition? Sure, I guess, a small peck on the cheek under the mistletoe would be all right, but this. What is this? Tradition doesn't involve cornering a poor girl and scaring her to death.

'Yes, I'm scared. I'm terrified. He looks so … much like a predator. I can't even read his emotions right now; they're so cloudy and messed up. But what are my emotions? Certainly, I suppose I'm scared shitless, and right now, all I want to do is curl up in a corner and cower from him, but do I…?

'I do. I actually want him to kiss me. But how do I want him to do it? Do I want him to be rough, taking me against the wall? Or do I want him to be gentle and caring, loving and tender? I'm not sure anymore. I really don't know what to think.

'To be honest, I don't think I've ever felt so strange. I don't understand what it is, or what it really means. All I know is that deep down, something evil inside of me is telling me to make the first move, to give him what he wants to give me. To grab him and take him, right here, in the hallway.

'Oh, I don't know what to do. I really don't. Why am I feeling like this? I know it's not love; that would be absolutely absurd. We're friends, that's it and that's all. I suppose the only reason I feel like this is because of that.

'He looks at me like I belong to him or something. I guess, deep down, he wants to take me too.'

(THIRD PERSON VIEW)

They shifted in unison, both moving closer, and only briefly, very briefly, they made contact. His breath against her skin was gentle and soothing, yet warm and arousing, while her soft gasp seemed innocent, and created a heat inside of him that he feared he would never be able to quench.

It was only for a moment, for a second, but it seemed to go on for all eternity, the two of them, locked together under the mistletoe, just barely touching, barely caressing. Then, they pulled apart, and both faintly rosy from the experience, fled in opposite directions.

She flashed a smile before picking up the ladder, using it as an excuse for her to leave the apartment, claiming that she had to take it to Sora.

He grinned slightly in return, and went into the living room to gather his bags before heading into his room, and then the kitchen to put away the food he had purchased in the day.

Mimi hauled the ladder up the staircase, and as she reached the flight above, she leaned it against the wall, for mimicking the ladder, placing a hand to her chest, feeling her heart flutter against it in a quick, fast rhythm. Her stomach was slowly untwisting itself from the knots it had turned into, and she fought the urge to laugh aloud to herself. That was quite a kiss.

Before she had a chance to think over the kiss, a door to her right opened, and Tai stepped out of his apartment, clad in a jacket with a scarf tightly wrapped around his throat. He turned for the stairs and stopped in his tracks, facing Mimi.

"Hey, what are you doing all the way up here?"

She looked up, pulled out from her memories – yes, they were memories this time, and not just regular, average, unfinished fantasies plaguing her mind. "Oh, Tai. I was just bringing Sora her ladder." She gestured to the said object beside her.

Tai arched a brow, and then moved to help her. "Here, I'll help you carry it." She thanked him as they each took an end. "So, what did you need the ladder for anyways?"

Mimi smiled back at him. "I decorated Matt's apartment in a Western style Christmas. I think he likes it." She giggled, 'Especially the mistletoe.'

Shifting the ladder in his grip, Tai glanced at Mimi as though she were crazy. "What? Really? Matt hates Christmas. He likes Christmas Eve because he uses it as an opportunity to take out some girl and pretend he has a girlfriend to fend off Jun, but he hates Christmas."

"Oh, really, why?"

"I think it's just because, well, since the divorce – I know it's years ago – he hasn't really been able to have a real happy Christmas. I know that his mom and dad are slowly going back to speaking terms, as well as Matt and his mom, but Christmas, I guess, just isn't the same way it used to be for him. I suppose it just brings back a bunch of memories he wishes he didn't have."

"Wow, Tai, I never thought you could sound so smart, caring, and sentimental. Sora's really good for you, I guess."

He laughed and knocked on Sora's door. "I guess so. She made me watch some old chick-flick the other night, and I actually wanted to commit suicide. Seriously."

"Oh really Tai? Well, how do you think I feel when we watch those really bad, B-movies you love some much?"

Mimi giggled as Tai jerked around to face his girlfriend in the doorway, who was frowning slightly at him.

"And, if I can remember correctly, you started crying in the end!"

Tai's face turned a bright, vibrant red, and he looked like he wanted to go dig a hole and die in it. Instead, he did the exact opposite, claiming to be innocent.

"I really don't know what you're talking about. I think you're just making up stuff, that's all."

Laughing, Mimi waved goodbye to Sora before heading back towards the apartment. She still had a wreath to hang in the doorway, and a few other things to set up before the end of the day.

Reaching the stairwell, she paused for a moment, before sitting on the concrete steps and leaning against the railing, closing her eyes in thought. It really was some kiss.

Matt began to unpack the bags, stashing the Christmas presents away in the closet, making sure to hide them behind his array of large coats, guitar case, and other large objects, before finally leaving the bedroom.

He found the kitchen to be spotless, and, stuffing a cookie into his mouth, ate while he stashed the food into the fridge, making sure to place everything so that it was visible. Mimi had done an excellent job at cleaning out the fridge, and he didn't want her work to go to waste.

Chuckling lowly to himself, he wondered just what she had found in the depths of that supposedly safe place.

Placing the milk on a rack, he paused briefly in his work, leaning against the door. His smile turned into one similar to one someone gets while thinking of a pleasant memory. Oh yes, that was one great kiss.

Sighing softly, he secretly wished that it had lasted just a little bit longer, but he didn't want to scare the poor girl away. He wanted to make her come closer, to feel her against him instead of the air between them.

Resuming his work, he opened the compartment in the bottom to stuff some vegetables in it, before gathering cereal and a couple of other non-perishables and shoving them into the cupboards surrounding him. Taking the emptied bags, he shoved them into the garbage, not even thinking once about recycling them; he was simply too lazy to think about recycling.

Pulling out a glass, he filled it with water and sipped the liquid calmly as he made his way to the couch in the living room and flipping on the television. He then laughed out loud; Mimi had switched the automatic channel to a kid's network instead. He found himself lying back, watching an old episode of DragonBall Z.

Not really focusing on the television, he let his thoughts wander back to what occurred a mere ten minutes before. She had been so warm, so soft against him, and he had tried to imitate that gentleness. He had wanted it to be soft, like her lips, and tender, like her body. He didn't want to be rough; he had fear of bruising her, and he didn't want mar her beauty with an ugly bruise.

Sipping the water, he let it cool down his heated body, and attempted to focus on the television in order to calm his sudden arousal. Instead, his thoughts wandered anew to the moment, and he found himself thinking about what might have happened if it had lasted longer.

Would she have run away like a frightened rabbit? Or would she have stayed with him, kissing him back fervently, showing him just where to please her? Or would she have grown angered, resulting in a violent smack and the two of them not speaking for days?

Instead, she had gasped against him, leaning slightly against him, letting his lips touch her, just a little bit, just for one second, before he had pulled away and they had gone their separate ways. He prayed to Kami that it would not destroy their current relationship; if it did, he would never be able to forgive himself for making the move. It would probably kill him.

"Good day Princess."

His voice was cold and cruel against her skin, causing the hair to stand on the back of her neck, making gooseflesh rise all over her body. She didn't look up at him, and simply stood in the white room, gazing out the window into the black void beyond. Don't turn around, don't look into those poisonous eyes, don't like to the venom escaping his lips. He is pure evil. Do not even touch him.

She didn't want to touch him, but that didn't stop him from touching her. His cool hands were placed upon her bare shoulders, causing warning signs to go off inside of her mind, making her tremble under his touch. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the dream, the nightmare, to just simply go away.

When she opened here eyes again, the dream was not gone, and instead, she found herself gazing into his blue orbs. Malice and cruelty filled them, and she feared that he would hurt her anew. Please, please, don't hit me.

He raised his hand, and she winced instinctively, shying away immediately from his very touch. Instead of hitting her violently, his hand caressed her cheek in a tender gesture, but she knew that it wasn't meant to be gentle, and that soon, it would hurt.

Please, please, don't hurt me.

"You touched him, didn't you? You touched him. You really are a whore. You said all those lies about chastity and swearing an oath not to do anything. But really, you broke those vows when you said yes, when you relented. You're nothing but a liar, and you know what I do to liars."

She wanted to pull away from his gaze, to stare at something other than the ocean blue depths of his eyes, but she found herself drawn to them in a hypnotic gaze. She wanted to cry, to scream, to fight back, but she couldn't. She just couldn't bring herself to do that; she wasn't like that. She couldn't fight back, she didn't know how to fight back, and she didn't want to stoop as low as him.

His head tilted towards her, his lips gently brushing against her lips, and she swore she could feel the poison snake past her lips, trailing down her throat to enter her heart, filling her body with a darkness that would slowly grow and morph her into the creature he always desired her to become. She jerked back, shivering violently at the contact, tears already stinging her eyes, feeling bile rise up her throat, causing her to choke it back down.

Moving quickly away from him, she found herself back in front of the window, again gazing into the empty, unfathomable ebony world beyond, where no light pierced the darkness, and nothing shifted amongst the shadows.

"You won't dare touch me, and yet you touch him. You let him touch you, and you never let me touch you. What is wrong with you? You used to be my beautiful, lovely Princess. You used to be so beautiful."

He moved forward, and she felt him play with the skirt of her gown. She focused her emotionless gaze on the outside world, gazing at her reflection in the glass. She wanted to smash the glass like how she wanted to break the mirror. She didn't want to see her reflection anymore; she felt broken and ugly, and the reflection in the window was beautiful and whole. She wanted the image to be her true reflection, her true image.

Similar to the mirror, a spider web of cracks trailed across the surface of the window, shattering her image, breaking her reflection.

His voice filled her ear, his breath against her throat. "You are ugly. You are broken. You are nothing but a cheap, little whore."

Tears escaped their dams, trailing down her cheeks, creating a wet, ugly trail down to her chin. Swinging around, her face contorted from the sobs wracking her body, she glared at him. "I'm not a whore."

Pain consumed her face as he slapped her, before her air was cut off when his hand made contact with her bare throat. A bruising pain echoed throughout her back as she was slammed against the wall.

His eyes mimicked the turbulent oceans once more, angry waves swirling, fury causing the depths to darken, and his voice had lowered into an enraged growl as he pressed his face close to hers.

"Yes you are."

Her body jerked violently as she woke and she scrambled from the sheets, falling to the ground in a heap, panting, gasping, her heart rate nearly the speed of sound, choking on her sobs, simply wishing that she could no longer suffer.

The blankets were tightly gripped in her hands, and she shuddered violently, trying with all her might to fight back the vomit, to push away the tears, and to shove the memories back into the dark chest inside the unfathomably depths of her mind. Her body struggled to regain it's normal pace, trying with all its might to calm the blood, relax the heart, and ease the ability for the young woman to breathe, but this night, it was worse.

She coughed loudly, her throat dry and swollen, and her head ached from the tears pouring down her cheeks. She just wanted it to stop, just wanted someone to tell her that they would stop one day. But she didn't want to go to Matt; she was scared. She didn't want him to know about those few weeks, those horrible, terrifying weeks of being pushed back, being shown where her place was, being told what she was, and what she should be. She didn't want him to know how pathetic she was, how useless she had been.

Instead, not even giving her body a chance to calm down, she struggled to stand on her trembling legs, stumbling down to her knees in the process, burning them against the rug. The burning pain from her kneecaps was barely registered by her mind, which was currently plagued by horrendous memories and vile images.

Nearly crawling on all fours, she made it to the doorway, clinging to the doorknob as though her very life depended on it. Turning it open, she succeeded in making it halfway down the hall before stumbling the first time, reaching out to the wall for support. Landing hard on her side, she fought back a low groan of pain, forcing herself to her feet. Water. She needed water.

The memories swamped her mind; she was barely aware that she was walking down a dimly lit hall, seeing only the white room, the pink dress, and those cruel, blue eyes. She felt as though she was drowning in those eyes, in the malice, venom, and spite the depths were made of. She felt the dark waters rise, choking at her, causing her lungs to burst and shatter into a million shards throughout her body. Her heart palpitated violently, and she jerked to halt, nearly throwing herself onto the counter that seemed to magically appear before her.

Her hands clawed at the cupboards, searching for a way to open the doors; those doors were like the doors to outside world, they would open and flood her with light and happiness. However, in reality, when she opened the cupboard, she found only neatly placed plates, bowls, and glasses.

Barely aware of her actions, she reached for a cup, holding it in a trembling hand. Making her way for the water, she paused in her tracks, before erupting into another barrage of sobs and pants. She wasn't sure why she suddenly started crying, she just began to cry.

Her throat clenched shut, and she began to cough, her body shivering and shuddering, her flesh heating up to a feverish point, sweat slicking back her hair, drenching her shirt, gluing it to her body like a second skin. Her flesh paled deathly white, and her facial expression was gaunt, ghastly and horrified.

Fighting to take that one more step, her body jerked involuntarily, and she reached for the counter for support, dropping the glass in the process. The glass shattered across the kitchen tiles, causing a loud sound to fill her ears, and, as though it was some sort of magic key, a magic word, the glazed look in her eyes faded slightly, and she simply fell to the ground. There she sat, sitting in a sea of glass, crying and shaking, trying hard to remove the memories, the nightmares. Willing them to go away. But she knew they wouldn't, they never left her alone.

Her body jerked upright as warm arms encompassed her from behind, holding her close to a strong chest, a hand going to stroke her hair gently, tenderly caressing her. She nearly shied away from the soft caress, before realizing that it was not his cold, angry touch, but someone else's. Their touch was warm, soothing, relaxing, and loving. It was not filled with hatred and cruelty, but kindness and gentleness.

She let him pull her against him, resting her head on his shoulder as the tears streamed down her cheeks. His scent was masculine, calming and familiar. His breath against her skin was cooling and warm at the same time, helping to lower the feverish temperatures of her flesh, chasing away the bullets of sweat that covered her body.

"We're going to stand up, okay?"

His voice was familiar, strong and deep, and yet, it held a distant note of compassion, longing, and anxiety. She knew that he was always anxious and scared, always longing for something that hiding away somewhere. But who was he? She couldn't remember, she wanted to, but she just couldn't.

Slowly, gently, he helped her to her feet, and guided her out of the kitchen, holding her upright with both his arms. He led her towards the bathroom, where he promptly sat her down on the toilet, before turning on the nightlight. She was grateful; the regular light would have burned her eyes. She wasn't sure how she knew it, but she just knew it.

The sound of running water filled her ears, and she looked around the room, trying to find the source, and just barely saw it out of the corner of her eyes; her vision was currently lined with black and grey, and occasionally faded out to show her more images from the nightmares. But those images were growing fainter, and the real world around her was becoming stronger, more vivid.

She felt him kneel in front of her, taking her hands in his, and she could tell that he was gazing intently at her. However, now she could just barely make out his image, blond, with beautiful, tender blue eyes. Those were the blue eyes she wished to see looking at her every day, the calm, blue ocean that begged for her to dive in and never leave. It was gentle, soothing, and held no hint of hatred or anger.

"Matt …"

Her voice was still alien to her eyes, and the name was barely a whisper, barely audible, but he heard her.

He smiled, nodding. "Yes, it's me. Now, come on, let's get you cooled down, okay?"

She nodded, slowly coming out of her daze, returning to reality. "All right."

He helped her stand, and guided her towards the water-filled tub, and, despite the fact that it was barely past a quarter in height; he helped her into the liquid. It was cool, but held a touch of warmth so that she would not freeze. It was relaxing, cleansing her flesh of the sweat and depression, going into her very depths to wash out the nightmares and memories.

He picked up a cloth, dampened it in the water, and proceeded to gently wash and knead her back with it, easing her into a calm state. She smiled softly at him as she closed her eyes, shifting in the tub so she could rest her head on his shoulder as he leaned over.

"Thank you."

He returned the tender smile, continuing to wash her back gently, squeezing water out of the cloth so it could run through her hair. "Just relax."

"I will."

They remained there for some time, him calming her whenever the panic attacks came, which had grown few and rare, her smiling at him and thanking him incessantly. Once the water had grown cool to the touch, and her skin was washed away of the filth and impurities, he eased her out of the tub after fetching her a towel, and wrapped the fluffy object around her, rubbing her arms and legs to create a tender warmth that slowly spread through her body.

Seating her on the toilet once more, he rushed out to fetch her one of his t-shirt and an old pair of boxers he never wore, telling her to change while he cleaned the mess in the kitchen. It seemed to take her longer than normal; her legs still had not regained their full working capacity yet, but she succeeded in changing, and, wrapping the towel around her shoulders, she stepped out of the bathroom.

Completing his objective of cleaning the kitchen, he quickly passed the vacuum over the tiles in order to remove any smaller shards from the corners and linings of the counter and walls.

They looked at each other for a moment, just standing there, gazing at one another. Then he stepped forward, and she mimicked his motion, and they stood together, her clinging onto him for dear life, him holding her against his body, stroking her hair tenderly.

"Do you feel better now?"

"Yes, thank you."

He led her towards her bedroom, where he helped her lie down in the warm comfort of her sheets, tugging the blankets over her body. He then turned his back to her, heading out of the room.

"Matt?"

Pausing at the doorway, he turned to look at the girl lying in the bed. She looked so frail and scared, as though if anything were to touch her with any amount of strength, she would shatter into a million pieces.

"Yes?"

"Can you stay with me? Just … Just until I fall asleep? Please?"

He contemplated the idea for just a second, not even, before heading out to fetch a chair and a blanket for himself, before setting the chair beside her bed, wrapping himself in the blanket. "I promise."

She smiled tenderly at him, her eyes slowly shutting as sleep beckoned her into its dreamless, comforting depths. Her hand groped across the sheets, finding his in the darkness. "Yamato?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for yesterday. The kiss was sweet."

Matt chuckled softly, and leaned forward to imitate the gentle kiss from the previous day. Tenderly, he laid his lips upon her cheek for a brief moment, before pulling back. "You're welcome. Now sleep."

I'm evil, eh? I got you guys all thinking that they kissed-kissed, when Matt just kissed her cheek. Haha.

Anyways, yes, thank you guys so much for the lovely reviews, they make my day every time I read them. I get so happy and my ego just grows huge!

Anyways, like I mentioned above, I will be having a lot more difficulty posting more chapters due to school (Liberal Arts is a fucking bitch), so please, have some patience, I promise I will not forget about this fic (it's currently ruling my life, right now.)
Don't forget to give me more of those lovely reviews. Hee, hee.

Thanks!

Ciao.