A/N: The whole chapter is in the past.

Chapter 4: Time Gone By

Her hand is warm in his as he reaches over and grabs it, not breaking stride and pulling her along with him. She gives a little skip and stumble as she matches her pace to his and glares up at him crossly. "I was waiting here for thirty minutes," she mumbles. He stops at a campus road, looking both ways, and crosses, coming before the main building.

"Ah well, my cat got loose and the toaster wasn't toasting," he shrugs and looks at her pathetically. "I'm covered in scratches and deprived of crunchy bread. The stupid machine actually had the nerve to pinch one of my fingers when I tried to fix it."

He wags a reddened digit in front of her face for emphasis, but she just humphs at him, unimpressed. "You'll survive."

He stays silent as they enter through the doors, hands still united. Students swarm around them, chatting on their way the first class. "You're lucky I always try to get here early," Luka mutters next to him, obviously still in a foul mood. "Otherwise we would have missed out first class."

"You're the only one who would care," he retaliates and scrunches his eyebrows at her. "You could've just gone on by yourself, you know." She raises her eyebrows and looks almost offended by his words, or more exactly, the 'stupidity' of them. He braces himself for another round of argument.

"No I couldn't," she sighs. "That would defeat the whole purpose of waiting there in the first place." As they reach her classroom she pulls her hand from his and leans grumpily against the wall. "You're late almost every day," she says flatly. "You only live a few blocks across campus; how do you manage that?"

He sighs and looks her over. Her crossed arms, her eyes looking burningly down the hallway. To any other person she would appear furious, ready to rip his throat out, but he knows better. Knowing someone practically your entire life, you learn to pick up on some things. No, she's not angry – well, maybe a little – but more so she's hurt. Upset that he always seems to forget about her.

He leans forward, leaning one hand against the wall and using the other to move her face upward, bringing her eyes to his. They are a startlingly icy blue, cool, but with currents of water churning underneath. He exhales, closing his eyes for a moment and gathering his thoughts before opening them again and speaking softly.

"How bout' we do something later, okay?" Her lips draw closer together but her expression remains the same. "Go somewhere, get dinner, something," he whispers, drawling off and hoping to see some spark of interest in her. Her eyebrows slowly relax and she sighs, bringing her hand up to grabs his on her face and intertwine their fingers.

"Alright," she sighs and smiles slightly at him. "I'll meet you at your last class." He grins and leans down, brushing his lips against her hair and squeezing her hand. A resisting smile grows across her face as he does so and she drums her fingers against the back of his knuckles before letting go and turning to her class. "I'll see you later."

"You must have no sense of time whatsoever." Luka slumps into an open train seat and glares out the black window. They are underground right now, traveling underneath a city, and there is nothing to see but dark tunnels and pipes. It is impossible to tell the time under the earth like this, but Luka is certain that they have been riding the same line for about an hour. Gakupo stands in front of her, hanging onto a pole with a smug look on his face.

"I assure you," he says, being jerked around by the movement of the train. "My sense of time is perfectly adequate." He swings himself over to her and leans down, smiling self-assuredly in her face. "We're almost there."

At that moment the car suddenly floods with light and Luka spins back around to get a glimpse out the window. She sees the bright image of a setting sun and skyscrapers before a pair of hands wrap around her eyes and chuckle comes from behind her. "No, no, it's a surprise." He says it in the same childlike tone he once used when explaining that he was going to dig to China or something, but combined with his lower voice and the warmth of his hands on her lids it sends tingles down her spine. She leans backwards until her head hits his chest and she can feel the breath go in and out of him, hear the oxygen trickle through his airways.

The train comes to a stop somewhere and he spins her around, pressing her face into his chest and covering both her ears to prevent her from hearing the announcer declare their destination. After a moment he pulls her up and whispers in her ear, "Unless you want me to pull you around like some kind of kidnapper, keep your eyes closed, okay?" She sighs good-naturedly and nods, groping around for her purse and swinging it over her should.

"Just don't get me killed." He chuckles lightly as he guides her off the car and begins walking. The air is fresh and crisp - it must be an outdoor station – and she can feel wind pulling her hair around. Sunlight colors her sight pink through her eyelids and she can feel the heat of it on her face as she lets the hand holding her lead her through the streets of an unknown city.

All the sounds are familiar, car horns and people chatting on phones, the voice of the man next to her telling her when to watch her step, but there's something different about this place that she can't put her finger on. Something about it feels lighter, cooler almost. There's an odd scent in the air.

The sounds of civilization slowly grow quieter behind them and she feels the pavement underfoot change in density. The chatter and engines are replaced by other noises, the cawing of birds and a soft shifting when they step. After a moment they stop, the sounds of traffic rather far behind them.

"You can open your eyes now," he says.

She does, blinking against the reflection of the setting sun on the water stretching out in front of her. Seagulls fly overhead, diving towards the coarse sand and dark water that crawls determinedly up the shore before slowly sliding back. A quarter mile or so behind them the beach fades back into metropolitan areas with seaside parks and restaurants, but here it is all undisturbed.

"A beach?" she almost laughs. "A sunset beach?" she gazes around her at the orange and blue and purple sky and the pink clouds streaking towards the drowning sun. "That's so…when did you get so normal?"

He crosses his arms and stare out across the water, seeming very dramatic as the wind tosses his long hair around and seeming to know it too. "I wanted to go skydiving, so don't call me normal," he states huffily. "I had the feeling you wouldn't take so kindly to that endeavor so we came here instead." He gestures around the scenery exasperatedly and then brings his finger to his head, pouting at her pointedly. "See? I was thinking. So sorry you don't like beaches."

Luka sighs and walks towards him shaking her head. "I never said that I don't like beaches," she says. "It's just that I was expecting skydiving or something else bizarre like that. I'm relieved." He blinks a couple times at her and moves his hand to the back of his head, scratching his neck.

"So, does this work?" he asks, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. She watches him, the way the dying sunlight dances in his eyes, turning them violet-gold, noting the ways he is still the little boy she had played with all those years ago and how he had changed. How they had changed.

She kicks off her shoes, the sand filling the spaces in-between her toes. His gaze follows her as she steps out into the surf, the cold water washing up around her ankles and receding again. She turns her head to look at him again, still standing awkwardly on the shore. "Come on," she encourages and kicks the next wave, sending up a spray of droplets that reflect the light. He kicks off his own sneakers and, after a thought, rips off his long pants too, standing there on the beach in his boxers and seeming very proud of himself. With a suggestive eyebrow twitch he storms into the water, sending up sprays of water in his wake. Luka yells as the droplets land on her, wetting her skirt.

"You are the worst!" she laughs, the humor of it all seeping into her attempt at being cross. He raises his hands innocently.

"Why's it a problem?" he chuckles. "Just do what I did!" Luka stares at him for a moment before lifting the sopping material and scooting the skirt over the top of her head.

"You'll have to buy me a new one," she says as she tosses it onto the beach. Turning back to him with a smile, an expression of shock has painted itself across his face. His eyes skim over her exposed legs as a faint hue of red rises to the surface of his cheeks. She crosses her arms. "Good God Gakupo, grow up." He looks at her helplessly, shaking his head. She shuffles her feet, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "It's no different from a bathing suit," she argues. "And you were the one that told me to do it!"

"It is so different from a bathing suit," he mutters and laughs, shaking the tension away. He splashes up to her and wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulling them together. Their bare legs touch. Water from his arm drips through her shirt and down her back, making her shiver as the sea wind blows. She looks up at him and frowns. "I'm cold." He stares at her openmouthed for a second, before laughing and dropping his arm.

"You're on a beach, at sunset, with your wonderful boyfriend, who happens to be half naked, and you're complaining about the temperature?" His arms lift up as if asking God what to do with this one. "There is no pleasing you, woman!"

"Well let's see," she mutters and taps her chin. "What's missing from this scene?" Gakupo stares at her, cocking his head to the side. She sighs and steps closer, grabbing his collar and pulling him down to her height.

"You're supposed to be kissing me, moron," she says, blushing furiously. His eyebrows raise and a smirk spreads across his face.

"Gosh, so forward are we?" Luka doesn't get a chance to reply as his mouth captures hers a second later. Hands tangle in her long hair and skim down her sides, barely ghosting along the tops of her bare legs. She leans forward and presses herself against him, enjoying the low growl in the back of his throat at the action. Her arms wrap around his neck, pulling herself upward as his arms tighten underneath her thighs and lift her. She sits on his arms, suspended in mid-air, and stares into his gaze. With a sigh he kisses her once more on the cheek, his lips wavering hair lengths away from her skin.

"Better?" he asks, his voice soft and gruff.

"Much better," she breathes and leans her forehead against his shoulder. After a moment he does the same and they stay like that as the sun slowly dips below the horizon.

A/N: I felt so embarrassed writing this chapter. Has anyone else ever had to write something romantic like this and just found themselves either hiding behind their hand and/or laughing? What is the deal with that? Also, it was sort depressing because they got to be so cute and lovely here, but in the next chapter I have to make them fight. I'm so mean to my characters...

Revieeeeeeeeeeeew~! Please?