Author's Note: (READ ME!)
Firstly, a little about this chapter. No true drama here but I wanted to gear it toward the original charm of the story (at least in my opinion)- the wacky side characters. I just saw this book in the library actually that relates to that. It's called "Consequential Strangers". It's the random people that we meet that make our lives interesting. They bring novelty, as the book said. And I think that really influences my story. Hopefully you like it :)
And now... to the dedications... I have so many =)
To my most loyal reviewers: I'm so appreciative of all your feedback. You've helped me out in many ways. First and foremost, you pushed me until I was forced into finishing. And, yes, that's a good thing. Motivation to write NOW has always been an issue for me and I think that's why this story went as far as it did (ie. Finished). I've written a lot outside Fanfiction and outside the realm of Sailor Moon but I've never completed anything of novel length. THIS is, I'm happy to inform.
To my most loyal readers: I'm so glad you stuck this out with me. I hope I brought even just a smidgen of entertainment to your lives. That's my only goal, I can't wish for more. =)
To my friends: Thanks for the feedback, the inspiration, and the late night conversations. Love you.
To All:
How many pages have you read, you wonder? 177 pages, single spaced Word Doc. Congrats to both of us, you for putting up with me for this long and me for finishing something, finally!
Now being the cheesy girl you know me to be, Stay Beautiful (If you don't remember, that's the song that started this whole thing! I'm listening to it now… Trying to let go) ;)
Epilogue to come so no tears of parting quite yet!
And now… for the second to last time. Read, rant, review.
You Again?
Chapter 32
How would I approach him? Would I disguise my intentions with work? A mandatory meeting for his book?
That is beyond lame. I had been lame enough.
"I like you." I'd said. Really? Was I in first grade? Liking a guy because he was cute? Next what should I do? Push him over to get his attention? Maybe that's my next move…
Or is he in first grade? Needing confirmation that I like him for more?
No, I am the one in grade school. I'm the emotionally stunted one that can't express herself. The emotionally stunted girl who doesn't trust anyone, ever. I mean, it makes sense right? I shouldn't just trust people blindly. That would be stupid and naïve. But believing the worst in people like that? Or more specifically believing the worst in Darien? I have nothing to back me up. Nothing but my distrust of guys in general and my bitter recollections of high school.
Okay, Serena, think. What had he done in high school that made such an impression of distrust?
He'd teased me. About my hair.
Not even in a mean way. Just a fun way, now that I think about it.
But there has to be some reason I thought of him as the jerk extraordinaire. Something he'd done. He must have like kicked a puppy or something.
Hmmm. Think. Think.
Nope. Never a puppy.
A cat? I do like cats so that would make an impression.
Nope… In fact, I'm pretty sure I heard something about him saving a cat that was about to be run over on the street once.
Oh, god!
Wait! Wait! He did once give me an answer for our English class and it turned out to be completely wrong… But, Oh crap. After class he'd apologized for that one… Even though I'd been the one too lazy to figure it out for myself and he'd gotten it wrong too so he hadn't intentionally sabotaged me.
Why was I so stupid? Why am I so stupid?
I did have reason before, yes. Sleeping with Mina then pretending he'd never really known her. But he doesn't really know her. He'd slept with her once a decade ago when we had no connection what so ever and no reason for him to share that kind of information with me. And why would he tell me something like that now, really? It's old news… Even if he had slept with Mina four months ago, which he thankfully didn't, that would've been before we met again. So technically, nothing wrong with that… I really should apologize to Mina sincerely as she had done for me… And I will. She didn't technically do anything wrong either. I mean, she could've mentioned it but it's understandable that she didn't want to. And as for Darien…well, if it had happened he definitely should've told me… But it didn't… He practically saved her four months ago, some other guy could've taken advantage of her in her state but all he did was give her a place to rest and recuperate.
He'd called me Meatball Head and slept with my best friend- and cousin- once upon a time.
That's all I have against him.
It isn't even against him; it's against a teenaged boy that's clearly matured. At least a bit.
The Darien I know now is nothing like that. The Darien of the past three months has been nothing but amazing. First, he wrote an amazing book that blew our agency away. I probably haven't mentioned that but there is a frenzy. They think it'll be big with teens as well as adults looking for fun, lighter adventure stories.
So let's make this clear. Tally it up. That's the easiest way to figure everything out.
I started writing everything down to make my process more precise and not as Serena-centric as my brain likes to make it. When things are on paper they're much more straightforward.
He's a talented writer. Example: His story.
He's a decent guy, no matter what I've thought in the past. Example: Mina and the bar. Me and a bucket.
He cares. Example: He wouldn't shout and leave in a huff if he didn't- I hope. The million and one times we were together before the incident.
He's there. Example: He came to the Christmas party despite not wanting to.
He's exciting. Example: Closet scene, couch scene…
He's romantic. Example: Calling from England. Sending flowers, being jealous…
He's funny. Example: He's funny.
He's stubborn. Don't know if that should be in my pro but sure. Example: Flowers. Calls. Door knocking.
He's likable. Example: The girls, Sammy, everyone but me when I was stupid.
He's Darien.
That pretty much sums it up. I almost wrote something else for number ten, but I don't think I want that particular comment written on paper. He needs to hear that one in person.
Now, how can I get a hold of him? I could call… That's the least romantic gesture in the world. He'd come here before he reverted to calling incessantly. I would do the same. Yes, I'd call incessantly if I had to. He did it; why can't I? But that's the last resort.
Address. Okay, address… Um, oh!
Holmes has that data; we keep it on file so we can send information, etc. It's important. Not just for stalkers like myself.
Within a minute of entering my account on our website I find it. So easily. Almost too easily. That's good I'm not some creeper. Or maybe I am. I don't care.
I write it quickly on an envelope nearby, grab another one, put on my coat, and run out the door into the cool, bustling streets.
Now, hail a cab and off I go.
Easier said than done. I swear three drug dealers got a ride before even one cab driver even looked in my direction. I'm doing everything right, just like normal, but apparently tonight isn't my lucky night. Bad sign.
No! No bad signs. They're all good. All positive, I'm just saving my great luck for tonight. That's all.
I attempt a whistle but that doesn't work so I just keep my hand up and pray someone will stop.
Finally!
My savior comes in the form of an Asian woman driver with a thick accent asking me, "Where you go?"
"Here." I hand her the sheet and she nods. I don't know how she figures it out so quickly, but apparently she knows where it is.
That works.
She drives on, with me in the back, silent. I put the sheet I had in my hand in the extra envelope I'd gotten and look outside nervously.
She looks in the rearview mirror at me.
"Where you go?"
"I gave you the address." I say, now worried that she doesn't know where she is going after all.
"No, no. I know. Who you see?" She rephrases.
"Oh," I blush looking down. "This guy."
"Ah," She nods wisely, I feel like she understands. She does. "Romance."
"I hope so." I reply with a laugh.
"Like the movies." She says with a laugh of her own. "You run, he run, you kiss."
I smile at her and she returns it. "But with no airport involved."
"Good night for romance." She says and points out. The sky is darkening, turning into that shade that signals some kind of ominous weather.
"Really? This is a good sign?" I question skeptically, now concerned. There's already enough snow on the ground, we don't need thunder or hail too.
"Can't turn you away." She states knowingly.
I laugh. That's true, I suppose.
"We here." She says a bit later as I feel the cab stop. I look out. Holy shit.
The entire condominium- yes, it's a condominium not an apartment building- looks ultra chic. I should've known by the address, really. The entire area is like that.
"Good man." The Cabby says approvingly and I laugh.
"I like him." I say with a smile, shaking my head, and stepping out. I give her the money and wave goodbye. She drives off with one last smile. I usually don't get such nice cabbies.
"If I just breathe." I tell myself mentally singing the song though it doesn't fit perfectly in this situation. I didn't drive for an hour nor have I talked to the rain nor has Darien said- in so many words- that I've been driving him crazy. Okay, only one part fits. If I just breathe.
Keep the mantra, Serena.
Keep going…
You'll be fine…
Once I enter the practically gold-lined double doors each step I take on the marble floor echoes and I feel as though fifty different pairs of eyes are following me. They aren't; I know this mainly because there is only one person in the lobby and that is the receptionist. He resembles Alfred in all those Batman movies but more portly and probably a little younger. He looks up and smiles when he sees- more like hears- me enter.
I smile in return and carefully take the remaining steps that separate us.
"Um, does a Mr. Darien Shields live here?" I ask tentatively. I didn't know condos had receptionists… I don't think most of them do.
He smiles again, this time a bit condescendingly, "I can't give this kind of information out, Miss."
God, I should've known a place like this would do that. There are probably some high profile people living here or something. Come to think of it… I heard something about Matthew Mcconaughey and a condo…
No, Serena, focus.
"No, no." I say with a friendly, hopefully convincing smile, "You don't understand. I'm a friend."
He smiles that condescending smile again, "I would imagine his friends would know if he lives here."
"I know he lives here. That's why I am here versus elsewhere." This man is annoying.
"Then why ask?"
"Oh, dear God." I roll my eyes. "I just wondered where exactly in this building he is because I would very much like to converse with him at this time."
"At ten o'clock in the evening, Miss?" He questions skeptically looking at his watch.
"Yes." I say, though I haven't realized it's quite that late. "Yes, I would."
"Again, Miss, I can't give this information to strangers."
"Again, Sir," I say trying to remain polite. "I'm not a stranger. He's my friend." When he doesn't make a move to do anything I roll my eyes and suggest something instead. "How about this? Call his room and ask if he'd like to see Meatball Head."
Now he raises his eyebrows like I am insane, which is understandable.
"Just do it."
"Alright." He says but I can tell he is merely humoring me. He expects Darien to say "Get that nut away from here." But he wouldn't. He wouldn't.
Really, he wouldn't… I hope.
Then I hear the receptionist speak, "Yes, Mr. Shields, a Miss Meatball Head is here." He can't even stop himself from rolling his eyes. But then his eyes widen a bit, looking at me with more genuine curiosity. "Of course, Sir."
Once he hangs up he points to the elevator at the end of the lobby. "Room 953. Ninth floor."
I glare, "I know what 953 means."
"Sorry for keeping you." He doesn't seem sorry; he seems bored.
I walk off without another word and wait for the elevator's arrival, which doesn't take long. A minute later I'm walking down the hall counting off the numbers. "945.. 947.. 49… 51..."
And there's 953.
I knock apprehensively and try not to fold or twist the envelope in my hand.
He opens a second later.
God, life isn't fair.
Every single time he came to my place unannounced I looked like pure crap. Him, no, no. He looks like he's just come out of a shampoo commercial. His hair is wet but not matted to his face like mine is after a shower, it actually has volume! Even the image of him in sweats isn't repulsive like most people. And he smells really, really good. His scent seems to have tenfold the power right after a shower. Unfair. So unfair.
"Hi." I say lamely, trying to gather myself.
"Hello, Meatball Head was it?" At first he seems a bit mad, like he'll turn me away, but he breaks into a smile a second later and I sigh, relieved.
"Yeah, that name seems to describe me perfectly." I reply. Okay, Sere. Do what you came to do. "Here." I say and hand him the envelope.
Now he looks confused, which makes sense. I come to the guy's place and give him a letter; you think I could have just mailed it but, no, I have no patience.
"What's this?"
"Read it." I say, awkwardly standing in his hallway.
Half way through opening it he laughs as he looks at me, "Want to come in?"
"Um…" Do I? Well, shouldn't I? Sure. "Sure."
He holds the door open then closes and locks it after me.
Unfair.
So unfair.
His apartment brings mine to shame in every single aspect. It's cleaner- and he's a guy! It's bigger- well, he's a guy. It's a bit sparsely decorated but there's enough to get a homey feel. He doesn't have pretentious leather furnishings like I'd imagine many bachelors do. All of it is very natural; the color scheme is mainly woodsy green but also has other forest colors, shades of brown and some blues.
"Nice place." I say but he doesn't reply. "Matthew Mcconaughey live around here?" I ask, trying to get a response, but I hear none. I turn around and he's standing against the door reading my note. Okay, turn around again. Why is his face like that? He looks either confused or angry. Don't analyze. Just let it be.
He speaks a moment later and I hear him walk in, feel him directly behind me. "What is this?"
I turn to look at him again; he's stopped reading it. Maybe he is done. Or just doesn't care. "A list. I hear that making lists helps keep things straight. And well, this is your list. That's what you needed right? Reasons. There. I mean, there are more…" I trail off when he doesn't seem too impressed.
"You think that's what I needed? For you to make a list of my attributes?"
"Well," I say trying to think my around this one. Wasn't that the point? He'd been all mad I didn't give him any reasons I liked him. "No, but this can't hurt." I laugh awkwardly and he just looks at me. I've never felt more scrutinized. "Please don't do that."
"What?" He asks, sounding genuinely confused.
"Just staring at me. Tell me what you're thinking." This is getting frustrating.
"I'm not thinking anything." He replies innocently.
"Yes, you are. So just say it! Just say it already! You think I'm insane right? Some delusional girl who came over here to give you a list? Well, in my mind that list helps."
He laughs. "You think that's what I'm thinking?"
"Well according to you you're not thinking anything." I say, frustrated by his new silent behavior.
He laughs again. God!
"Don't laugh! Just tell me what you're thinking already." I move away from him toward the door. If he is going to be this way…
"I don't like you."
He finally says.
My heart stops, and my feet do the same. It felt like he'd thrown a knife straight into my retreating back. It penetrated all the way through and I can't feel anything. Anything but the pain.
"I see." My strangled throat managed to get out the words. "Sorry to have ruined your evening then." I force my feet forward, towards the door.
His hand stops me, so easily. I am too weak from the wound to fight back. He turns me to face him but I keep my face down, not wanting to see his contempt.
"Maybe if you actually faced me, you'd understand a bit better."
He pushes my chin lightly with his hand so that I am forced to look straight at him though I can't really see anything. Tears are forming too quickly for me to control and he is a blur.
"Oh God, no. No crying!" He seems so humored by this. Is he really as cruel as I once thought? "Sere, honey," Why would he call me that now? Did he want to dig the knife in a bit deeper? "I don't just like you. That's all I meant. Not just like. I should've probably added that word, it's a little important."
I blink and wipe at my eyes quickly. "What?"
His face gets more in focus and I can see a gentle look there, no contempt as I'd predicted.
"I love you." He pauses for a second, just staring at me. "That's why I walked out. I've gone and fallen for you and you just maybe, might like me. I don't want you to just like me." He pulls me closer and leans his forehead against mine for a second then his blue gaze meets my own and he sighs. "But, Sere, if that's all for now. I can deal with that."
And just like that, the knife is gone. The wound stitched up and fully healed. In its place a slight heartburn feeling arises. The best kind of heartburn. The kind that makes you want to jump up and down and maybe do a few dancing queen moves.
"You're so cute." He says it with a small laugh. I realize why. For about a full minute all I'm doing is staring at him, smiling like an idiot. I hadn't said or done anything. Just stood there with a goofy grin.
"You are too." I finally reply then shake my head. That's not what I am trying to say at all. Be coherent, Serena. "I do too! I meant, I do too!"
"But I am cute," He replies with a mischievous laugh but then he stops teasing for once, finally processing what I'd just said.
"I love you." I finally say it fully. "I should've probably opened with that earlier, that was the original plan but then I got distracted by your place and then you were reading the letter and then I was worried that you'd think…"
He shuts me up in the best way possible, as only he can. Leaning down quickly before I can finish my thought, he captures my lips with his own and my mind stops working. For a brief moment in time, it finally shuts off. All the ramblings fade in the background, no longer important or relevant. This kiss says it better than I can ever describe it. Words finally fail me.
…
But you don't really believe that could last long, do you? I'm Serena Tsukino. Words and I, we can't stay away from each other long.
"Wait."
He makes a noise akin to a whimper and I can't stop myself from laughing at him.
"I might love you, but sometimes… I question my sanity. I must be a masochist." Funny man, funny man.
"I think we still have a conversation left unfinished." I point out and his eyes widen dramatically.
"Is there anything we haven't already spoken of? You and I together, we're a couple of ramblers."
"Not when this starts happening," I say with a smile and give him a quick kiss. "You need to know something first."
"You're a hermaphrodite." He says and I slap his chest. He laughs. "Anything else, I couldn't care less." He leans down again but I put my hand in his way. The look on his face is quite priceless, so pathetic.
"You might care about this one." I turn totally serious and he quickly follows my example.
"Do I need to sit down?" Okay, maybe he isn't that quick to follow. He's still smiling.
"No, you're fine. It's just… Well, you know quite a lot about me I think but you don't know certain things. Same thing with me when it comes to you. We don't have to figure everything out right away but… Well, I feel like this is important. Darien, I haven't dated much."
"Okay." He nods. I don't say anything else. He laughs. "Is that all? How's that crucial right now?"
"Darien, I haven't dated much." I repeat trying to emphasize the point, but he still looks confused. Okay, maybe he needs a second…
"Oh." He finally gets it. He smiles gently. "Sere, I'm perfectly fine with that. You thought that'd be a big deal?"
"Darien, I haven't you know…" He nods again with a devilish smile, signaling he knew what I was talking about, "Ever."
"Oh." He seems much more surprised at this revelation. "Wow… So you've never had--" I cut him off.
"Exactly, and I don't make apologizes for it either."
Now he looks confused, "I wouldn't expect you to."
What's that mean, though?
"As in… you're okay with it?" I question to clarify.
He gives a laugh, "Sere, I admire you for it… And… Well, call me selfish but I'm glad."
I smile mischievously, "So sure you're the one?"
"Well, aren't I?" He questions with the old playfulness back.
"It's a distinct possibility." I reply and he leans in for another kiss. Before I wrap my arms around his neck I hear him mumble, "As long as it isn't that barista kid," which makes me laugh. I can't help but smile against his lips as I feel his heartbeat kick up about five notches. He takes the kiss deeper and his hands wander again. I lean backwards, away just a bit, not a lot.
I just stare at him for a second.
"Not tonight, huh?" I shake my head with a giggle. With a dramatic sigh he shakes his head. "You're a piece of work alright."
"Never claimed to be anything else." I reply with a laugh and he grins.
"Now that," He starts as he grabs my hand to lead me elsewhere, "is one hundred percent true."
Like the truest gentlemen, he doesn't kick me out of his house in the torrents of the storm, though he makes many sly comments about how this could be a sign.
"It could be our last day on Earth." He says in all seriousness as I wrap a blanket more securely around me on the couch to watch a late night movie.
"Then this." I say while gesturing to us when he comes to snuggle up next to me, bringing along two peppermint teas. "Is the perfect way to spend it." I peck his cheek to sooth his broken ego a bit. He just smiles and presses 'play'.
Halfway through the movie he pauses and turns to me. "What was that earlier about Matthew Mcconaughey?" I laugh.
Took him long enough to process that one.
"You don't want to know how this mind works," I reply with a giggle and he grins.
"I find it quite fascinating, actually." He finally says then adds, "In a very curious doctor at the asylum kind of way." I slap his chest and give a fake glare. We continue with the movie.
...
The next morning I finally understand my mother's words so many years ago. Waking up early has some appeal to it. The appeal you wonder? It's in the form of a midnight blue eyed man who awakens me with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the touch of a sweet caress, instead of the noise of an incessant alarm. Oh, and also a promise of our first official date. Breakfast that morning anywhere I want.