Chapter 12. Yes, it's still Valentine's Day, and I'm sitting on the train, bored, tired, and … writing this chapter. Haha.
Okay, random update: it's not longer Valentine's Day; it's two days later, and it's snowed a shitload. Fucking snow.
I want to apologize ahead of time; I really don't think I did that great in detailing Matt's emotions. It's so hard to describe how someone feels so damn guilty; most of the time it's just questions. But at least I tried.
Please don't forget to R&R. 3
Chapter 12Humpty Dumpty
Running his hands through his hair aggressively, Matt squeezed his eyes shut, trying to figure out just how he was going to fix things. Takeru had been right; he had royally fucked up. He had ditched Mimi for, what he had hoped to be, a release of all his sexual tension, and, instead, discovered that the poor girl had been so drunk she would have most likely vomited all over him.
He was sitting on her couch, waiting for her to stop throwing up long enough so that she could go to sleep. He hoped that it was soon; he yearned to return to his apartment and make sure that Mimi was all right.
"Matty?"
He looked up at the soft, raspy voice that came from the washroom. Standing, he made his way over to the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, peering in through the open door.
"Yes?"
"I'm ready to sleep now."
"Okay, good."
Moving in, he heaved Aiko to her feet, her dark hair disheveled and falling lankly around her olive-toned face, which had grown pale and sickly. Her body shook in his grasp, and seemed terribly frail between his fingers. Holding her carefully, he helped her walk as they made their way towards the bedroom.
Cautious, he lowered her to the bed, pulled up the sheets, and wrapped them tightly around her tiny form. Her lips curled up slightly in a half-smile, eyes fluttering shut as she exhaled softly, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Picking up a garbage can, he placed it beside her bed, before turning his back to her, closing the light and door, and leaving the apartment, making sure to lock the door before closing it.
Arriving in his car, seated in the driver's seat, he locked the doors before resting his head on the wheel. What did he do? Why did he do it? Why was he risking his friendship because he had wanted one little fuck?
Digging his fingers into his scalp until sharp pain echoed from his skull, he shut his eyes, cursing loudly. "Kami! Why didn't I think? I'm such a jerk!"
'How could I have done such a thing? T.K.'s right, I do like her, but I don't think she'll like me anymore after tonight. Kami, could you please help me get through this? Why did I ever let her tempt me? Why was I even planning on doing it? Why did I choose her instead of Mimi? What made me do it? Was it because I was just so horny I couldn't think straight? Or was it because of something else?'
Suddenly, the realization came to him, jerking him upright in his seat, forcing a soft gasp of comprehension from his lips. He was afraid. Afraid of what he would do, of how she would react, and, maybe, just maybe, that she would reject him.
He always felt a strange liking, passion, for her, needing to be with her, to touch her, hold her, embrace her, and physically love her. He wanted to take her and show her beauty, to tell her how gorgeous she was, to run his fingers through her chestnut locks, to feel her soft skin beneath his touch, and to simply caress her tenderly and passionately.
Turning on the car, he thought as he drove, trying to focus on the road as he considered all the possibilities of Mimi still liking him just the slightest bit.
His stomach twisted violently, making him want to be sick as he thought of the poor girl, sitting outside his door, crying her heart out as she thought of him being with another woman.
Fighting the urge to slam his hands against the wheel in rage, he cursed loudly, angry, not at Mimi, but at himself for being such a selfish idiot. All he did was think about himself and what he wanted, instead of what she thought and what she wanted. He didn't think about her, didn't care about her, and he knew that was selfish.
Why couldn't he stopand think, for once in his life, about others? Why was he always thinking about his own needs, his own lusts, his own wants and desires? Why was he never thinking about those of others? Why couldn't he show others that he cared about them?
He cared deeply about Mimi, he wasn't necessarily sure how much he cared, but he knew that he loved her in some way. There was something deep inside of him that ached and broke every time he simply thought of her crying, of her infuriated with him, or her hurting because of him or others. He didn't want anybody to hurt her, and that should include himself. But he didn't think of her, he didn't try to protect her from his stupidity, and hurt her. Because of that, he hated himself.
Another curs was expulsed from his lips, which had curled into an angry snarl. He wanted to ask someone to hit him, hard, violently, across the face. To have someone beat him to a pulp, to show him just what he deserved. He wanted to be punished for being selfish. In being selfish, he didn't think, didn't care, and he hurt her.
He should have stopped to think, stopped to wonder if she would have cared. His stomach tightened further, a headache beginning at the back of his skull, crawling slowly forward to attack his temples and forehead.
'I'm such an asshole. Fuck, what a useless piece of junk. Why can't I act like any other normal person who thinks? Who feels? Who cares? Why can't I show her I care? Why am I unable to think about others? Why do I always just think about myself?
'I hate myself.'
The apartment was empty, cold, and felt terribly lonely. The lights were off, the hallway bathed in darkness and shadows, and he used the walls to manipulate his way down towards the bedroom containing his guest.
The door barely creaked as it opened, and he stuck his head within the small crack, glancing towards the misshapen blankets, the disheveled form seemingly lying in the bed. The light caused the shadows to manipulate the shape in a way that made it appear humanlike, and normal.
Easing the door shut, he sighed softly in relief, knowing that Mimi was sleeping dreamlessly in the bed, as opposed to tossing and turning, screaming and crying.
Making his way towards his bedroom, he discarded his clothes on the ground, not caring where they landed, knowing that they would just be his pants, shirt, socks, and not his boxers.
Clambering into his bed, he rolled onto his side, hugging the pillow tightly to his body. Letting out a deep, angry sigh, he pushed his face against the pillow, trying hard to not to punch something, or even simply toss himself out of the window.
Although he was not necessarily suicidal, he felt the need to punish himself, to show him how he's been such a terrible person. He knew how horrible he was, but he did not feel punished; just knowing he was a bad person was not punishment enough. He felt as though he deserved a complete beating, from Mimi in particular.
Releasing another sigh, softer, almost relaxed this time; he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling. Although his bed was large, king sized, he remained on his one side, resting, focusing intently on what he was going to do the next morning.
He was going to tell her exactly what had happened, maybe even what he was thinking, or not thinking, about. Then, he would confess something else, something he hadn't even thought about confessing to himself.
'Please don't hate me. I need you.'
The morning sun shone through the curtained window, bright and cruel in the late morning, piercing through the shuts lids of the blond boy lying on the couch. Rolling over slightly, suddenly waking in order to stop himself from falling, he groaned aloud at the sounds of coughing and vomiting coming from the bathroom down the hall.
Sitting up, Takeru rubbed his eyes as Kari came into the living room holding a cup of orange juice between her small hands.
Seating herself beside Takeru on the couch, she smiled softly.
"Pleasant, eh?"
Laughing quietly, he took her glass from her grasp, taking a long drink. "Yeah. Just a bit."
Leaning back against the couch, returning the glass to her hands, he closed his eyes in worry, his brow furrowed.
"A penny for your thoughts?"
"Only if I get the penny in advance."
Chuckling, Kari poked him playfully on the side, before speaking. "You're worried about Matt and Mimi."
A nod.
"Me too. What he did wasn't nice at all, and that's just saying it blandly. I wonder if he'll be able to fix everything he did. I know it was just something stupid and simple, and I bet he didn't even get to have sex with Aiko. Sora told me, between puking sessions, that Aiko was drunker than her. I'm betting anything that she spent more of her night at the toilet, and the only thing Matt goes to touch was her hair as he held it back for her."
Laughing, the blond smiled brightly at the brunette. "That's probably true. He did say something about alcohol poisoning last night, but I can't be sure if he was lying to me or not." His gaze darkened and he glanced to his hands in his lap. "Matt really screwed up."
"I know. I bet Mimi's like Humpty Dumpty right now, so broken that all the king's men and horses will not be able to put her back together. It must hurt so much, thinking that someone who love doesn't love you back." A heavy sigh escaped her lips. "Poor Mimi. She must be heart broken."
Takeru trailed a hand gently through her hair. "I hope it'll be all right. Matt really does care, you know. Or he wouldn't have called last night to tell whoever answered about the key."
"Yeah, I suppose so." She leaned into his tender caress. "But, you know, I can't help but wonder how Matt's dealing with it."
Blue eyes widened in curiosity and confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Well, I know it's not something huge, like they were already dating and one of them cheated, or something similar, but still, it still involves both of their hearts and emotions. Just imagine how bad Matt must feel right now, especially since he does love her too. I mean, how would you feel if you did something horribly stupid that not only upset me, but really was an asshole-thing of you to do? Like, left me crying in the rain or something. How would you feel? I don't think you'd feel all happy and go-lucky afterwards? I'm pretty sure that you'd feel pretty darn crummy. I know I'd feel crummy if I ever hurt you."
Resting his head on her shoulder, he closed his eyes. "I suppose you're right. I mean, you're always right when it comes to examining people." He looked up at her, staring into her chocolate eyes. "I can only hope that he's better than the king's horses and men."
Sunlight bathed the room, illuminating the golden locks on the pillow, chasing away the nightly shadows, exposing the twined forms lying in the safety of the comforter and sheets, their legs intertwined, eyes shut in a contented sleep.
There were no nightmares in that room, as they slept together, embracing each other unconsciously, holding one another close to their hearts. There were no evil thoughts, was no anger, no depression, only sheer beauty and contentment.
Their flesh shone in slight contrasts, hers white as a waning moon, seemingly shimmering in the light, while his was a touch darker, slightly tanned, appearing darker than it normally was against the whiteness of her flesh.
A soft sigh, gentle breathing, a slight shift of the sheets, these were the only things that broke the silence, those soft, sleepy sounds that symbolized beauty, calamity, and sweet, untainted love.
The sunlight broke through the shield of his eyelids, dissolving the images of sleep, chasing away the darkness, causing his lids to slowly open, showing him the world beyond his nightly dreams. However, he didn't necessarily want to see the world at the moment. He wanted to go back and hide, shy away from the anger and confusion that lay beyond the doorstep of his dreams, and forget about any kind of emotions whatsoever. He didn't want to see the hurt in her eyes; he didn't want to feel his heart wrench painfully as she cried in front of him, and he especially did not want to hear her say 'I hate you.' He wanted to go back to his dream world, where perfection was infinite and everywhere, where her smile was continuous and sweet, where there was no sign of hurt in her eyes and her heart always beat strong and powerfully. In his dream world, she was happy, and nothing he did would destroy that happiness; he was perfect in his dream world.
But he knew that the dream world only came out at night, when the shadows brought the reality of anger and darkness into his mind. The dreams were to chase away the darkness outside, to push the shadows aside and show him a beauty that could never exist. At least not within him, she was beautiful inside and out, and he didn't want his ugliness to destroy that perfect beauty.
His blue eyes opened anew, showing him the world beyond, letting reality finally set in as he began to focus his attention on his current thoughts, on what he occurred the previous night, and how much pain and emotion seemed to consume the very apartment at the moment.
Releasing a quiet sigh that seemed to have been held in for eternity, he warred with himself, fighting to decide on whether or not he should tell Mimi the truth or not, depending on whether or not she would believe him or not.
He attempted to roll over, but found himself blocked by a strange form pressed up against him from behind.
Frowning, his brows creased and his eyes squinted slightly. His mouth curled downwards, and he slowly turned his head around to find …
"Oh shit. What have I done?"
Her hair was splayed across her tear-stained face, eyes still slightly red and puffy, lips swollen from being pressed against a pillow for several hours. But she was beautiful, ever so amazingly beautiful. Her pale skin shining like the moon, dark lashes leaving shadows against her face, just gentle caressing her skin. Her lips swollen and full, plump and red, curled upwards softly into a faint smile.
He wanted to jerk violently back, to scream and shout, exclaim with fear and joy, but found himself rooted to the spot, gaping wide-mouthed at the beauty lying pressed up against him.
"Mimi."
Her name was a whisper on his lips, barely audible in the silence of the apartment, and he quickly slammed his mouth shut, fearing to wake her and be attacked by her.
Instead, he found his mind focusing on what lay bare, exposed, and pressed against his back. Her full, perky, pale breasts were without cover, the rosy peaks pointing upwards from the cool apartment's air and the heat radiating from his body. He gawked at them, marveling at how such a thin young girl could have accumulated such lush, gorgeous assets. He found himself fighting the urge to turn around, press her body against his chest, to feel the soft skin rub against his, to cup them and toy with them.
When the blood rush to his nether regions, and he discovered that he would soon need a very cold shower, he fought the need to jump out of the bed, and, as quickly as he could, slowly climbed out, trying his hardest not to disturb the sleeping beauty.
She looked so pale, and beautiful, but so saddened and heart broken. She was tired, her eyes bruised and darkened, looking like hollows in her face. She looked ill, sick, like she had tried her hardest to die but had failed.
Brushing his fingers tenderly against her cheek, he smiled down at her in pity, apology, and pain, before dragging himself away from her, heading towards the shower.
Although he wanted to jump, cry, scream, and do a multitude of other tasks, he chose to be oddly calm and relaxed, at least, his mind chose to do that. His body had hardened, tightened to an aching point, the pressure building, causing him to desperately need some form of release. It wasn't healthy for him to be constantly this aroused.
Leaning against the wall outside of the bedroom, he tried to relax his body, to slow down his heart rate, ease his breathing, and simply calm himself down. He needed to find some form of release other than through sexual activity, but he didn't know exactly how he would be able to do so.
Looking around him, he found himself surrounded with articles of Mimi's outfit from the previous night, lying all over the floor. Glancing back into his room, swallowing thickly, he saw the corset, and a lovely, dark scarlet g-string lying on the ground beside. With the image of Mimi just wearing two those articles, he jerked his head back out with a low, guttural groan.
Cursing softly, he headed towards the bathroom for a quick shower, gathering his discarded clothes on the way, and, once he was done that, he would go to the kitchen and have a nice, big cup of coffee. Black. He wouldn't be able to deal with any more sugar in his day.
The sudden sunlight bursting through the window caused her lids to slowly ease open, illuminating the world beyond, showing her that some of her nightmares were truly false.
Forgetting about the previous night, pushing it back to the farthest depths of her mind, she sat up, rubbing her glazed eyes as she tossed the comforter aside, welcoming the cold air, relishing in the fact that it made her feel real, like a normal, average person who felt and loved.
Sliding her legs out from the bed, she touched the carpeted ground, playing with it using her toes, flexing them at random intervals, warming up her muscles before climbing nimbly out of the bed, stretching her arms high above her head, stretching all of her muscles.
With her hair tumbling over her shoulders, framing her face and touching the tops of her underwear, she looked sensual, disheveled, and gorgeous.
Licking her lips, she slowly opened the door to Matt's room, peering out into the hallway beyond, searching for any sign of the aforementioned male. Finding no sign of his presence, she stepped quietly out of the bedroom, making her way to the kitchen for a big glass of apple juice, aching for the sugar to replenish her system.
A yawned teased at the back of her throat as she reached the entrance to the kitchen, and her mouth opened in a wide yawn, before she rubbed at her eyes, standing in the middle of the kitchen's entrance.
"Mimi?"
Her entire body jerked back violently, her eyes flying open as she found the man of her thoughts, dreams, and nightmares standing before her, clad in only a wet, white towel draped loosely around his waist. His hair was wet, hanging limply around his waist as beads of water dotted his body.
"M … Matt … "
Her voice shook, merely a whisper as she said his name, fighting every urge she had to hit him, to cry, scream, to fall to the ground and punch it repeatedly.
"I … uh, Meems …"
He pointed towards her, mainly towards her torso, and that's when she let out a high pitched scream, her arms flying to her chest, realization hitting her, causing her to recall the fact that she was currently not wearing a shirt.
"You … you … pervert!"
The words were shouted with sheer vehemence, embarrassment and rage as she spun around, sprinting to her bedroom, where she slammed the door shut.
Leaning against the wooden object, she punched the door several times as tears poured swiftly down her pale cheeks, falling to the ground, moistening the carpet. Her lips tasted the salt, the cool water, the agony and pain, and she ached for it to leave, to go away.
Let it all go away. Let them stop hurting her. Was it wrong for her to want to be loved? How come they could love but she couldn't? Why was it so wrong?
Falling to her knees, she buried her face in her hands, sobbing loudly in her palms, rocking back and forth, chest heaving with each sob, her heart breaking into a million tiny shards of glass, tearing apart at her insides, ripping her to pieces.
She barely heard the knock through her cries, before lunging at the door, punching at it in return, yearning for it to be his face.
"Leave me alone!"
She wanted to mar the perfection of his visage, to rip it apart, tears it to shreds, to watch his eyes fill with pain and apology, to have him begging in front of her, on his knees, for forgiveness. She wanted to hurt him like he had hurt her.
But she couldn't do it. She couldn't dare bring herself to hurt him, let alone even continue thinking about hurting him. She loved him. There, she admitted it. She was in love with Yamato Ishida, and she wanted him to love her.
The question was, did he love her?
The knock sounded again, this time louder, more pronounced, demanding and persuasive. Her body reacted without her mind, her legs holding her upright, arms and hands fumbling with the lock, before slowly opening it, revealing the blond boy who stood behind the object, hands balled with unreleased rage, eyes shining brightly in the lights.
"What?" Her voice was raspy and felt distant, almost as though it didn't belong to her.
Swallowing thickly, Matt took a step in what he believed was the right direction. "I wanted to … just say that, well, last night …"
She looked at him expectantly, aching for his apology, needing to hear his voice filled with sorry and sadness.
"Well … nothing happened between Aiko and I …"
The world stopped, her heart skipped several beats, and she felt the air rush violently out of her body. An unbearably immense weight of sadness bore down upon her body, making it difficult to breathe, clouding her senses. Just as the fog began to lift, a blinding rage consumed her, and she was unable to stop herself as her fist lunged outwards, making contact with his chest.
"You bastard! You goddamned bastard! You fucking leave me out in the cold, for fucking hours, and you expect me to worry about if you fucked the whore or not? You actually think I'm that fucking stupid?" Her fists rammed into his chest again, which caused him to jerk back. "I can't believe how much of a goddamned asshole you are! Do you think I liked being left alone? Do you think I actually enjoyed sitting outside that door, in the fucking cold, freezing my ass off, because you didn't care?" She pointed fiercely at his chest, her nail digging into his flesh. "Well, guess what. I fucking cared! I wouldn't have left you alone! I would not have gone off with some guy to fuck him! Because I care! I think about other people, while you … all you do is – "
Matt grasped hold of her shoulders, cutting off her sentence as he crushed his lips down to hers.
Lalalalala, so yes, the end of Chapter 12, and I am very tired, and am really wanting to go to bed, seeing as I've been up, since like 5:45am, and am beginning to grow cranky.
Ugh.
Anyways, yes, here's the end of Chapter 12, I hope you all enjoyed it and love the cliffhanger, lol.
Oh yes, thanks for the sweet reviews from not only my veteran (haha) reviewers, but also from my new reviewers! I'm so happy that all of you have picked my story to read and review. It makes me so happy.
And DatGurlNesha – you're such a sweetheart! . Seriously. I guess it's because my story's just so awesome that you anticipate it so much. Heh, heh.
You guys are giving me such an ego. Haha.
Anyways, please don't forget to read and REVIEW!!!!! I love getting reviews! 3
Ciao.
"heart" you all.