Title: Living in a Romance Novel

Chapter 4: Rising Action

Authors Note: Alright, chapter four is up! Let me know what you're thinking, my motivation to write probably doubles whenever I get a constructive positive review. (I.E. Flaming is NOT cool). Sorry for the long wait for an update by the way! I was at Mid-West Horse Fair for the weekend…and it was AMAZING.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fruits Basket or any of the characters. Evalena White is my own creation however, and belongs solely to me.

To accomplish great things, we must not only act, but also dream; not only plan, but also believe.

~ Anatole France

A shiver raced up her spine, Stella's eyes bulged out. She was trapped. The air was slowly suffocating her, the fear dried her voice, and it paralyzed her legs. The night swallowed her up, no one would remember her name, would second guess that her life had ended so tragically in this back end alley. She would not be avenged, the world would not miss Stella Annette Mathews. The cold crisp air of the night never heard her silent screams.

A siren blared through her house, Mii's door bell was ridiculously loud. Lena was jolted out of the story, her fingers itched to continue onward and ignore her caller, but the damn bell continued to go off. Whoever it was was about to have their finger snapped off.

In her cotton white tank and multi-pink and silver striped pajama pants, she flung the door open. A very dashing man stood in front of her, and it was mid-day and she stood in her pajama pants. God was just not on the same page with her.

"Lena," he greeted kindly. His voice trigged her memory and Lena grimaced.

"Your next manuscript isn't due for two weeks, Sohma-San. You have plenty of time to avoid me," she hated being dragged away from her daily writing.

"Avoid a pretty woman like you? My heart darkens at the thought, Mii has a nice place. I have to admit, I've never been invited in," that didn't stop him from brushing past her and walking into her precious space. He lingered around the dining room and kitchen area. His eyes lit up on the computer with Microsoft word pulled up.

"I'm not inviting you in," Lena pointed out, her eyes leapt possessively at the screen when he walked over and began to read.

"Are you taking up another writer? Lena I am highly disappointed. I thought I got all of your special attention," the man pouted and gave her a soft puppy dog look that Lena was well acquainted with. Prince always turned on the look when she took out of the dog biscuits.

Speak of the devil, Prince was all over Shigure. She had never seen her dog take to someone so quickly.

"No…It's, I'm just…Prince stop jumping on his suit," it probably cost a fortune…if he ripped it with his nails. She'd never hear the end of it. Lena turned slightly green at the thought.

"It's fine, I have another at home," he reassured her and began to entertain her dog. His hands ran over Prince's head fondly, and Lena cursed herself for wondering what it would feel like to have his hands running through her soft curls. She wanted to feel that far too much for it to be safe.

"If you're not here about a manuscript, then why are you here?" the lines in her face tightened when she frowned, suspicion arose in her gut. This wasn't some impulsive stop by as he had made it seem. There was nothing impulsive about the man in front of her.

"Dinner, tonight," he flashed a smile.

"W…W…With me?" Lena stuttered over the two words. She took a healthy step back from him to distance herself.

"That's usually how it works," Shigure laughed, pleased at her stunned reaction.

"I'm…busy."

"There's nothing written on your calender."

"Last minute plans."

"Why are you avoiding me?" he finally asked.

"Your trouble," Lena retorted, "I don't get involved more than being your editor, not with the Sohma family."

"What does my last name have to do with anything? Now, stop avoiding the question. Do you want to go to dinner with me, or not? Last name aside?" the Sohma reputation wasn't that terrible.

"It has to do with everything," Lena covered her mouth with one hand and spun around to avoid him, as soon as she had said the words. What a stupid thing for her to say to him. "Fine, I'll go to dinner with you, just stop asking questions that I'm not allowed to answer."

"Pick you up at eight then," he pushed off from the computer desk, Prince wagged his tail and followed him to the door.

"Fine, I'll be ready," Lena huffed, as soon as he opened the door; she slammed it behind his back. "Way to go, big mouth," she hissed under her breath and scolded her lack of discipline in the mouth region.

He couldn't know the truth about her heritage, nobody could. It was her secret to take to the grave. So help herself, if someone found out, they'd make sure that Lena wouldn't have the chance to tell anyone else. She'd be muted permanently. The kind that goes with the phrase 'six feet under'.

"I look ridiculous," why couldn't Shigure have told her what type of date to dress for? Lena's scowl fixed on her face, her eyes narrowed at the tall full length mirror. The heels were one of a kind, black that tied at the ankle. Her pink toenails wiggled in the open toe shoe. The billowing black skirt stopped short of her knees; if they went dancing the trim would whirl around like a tutu. Her ivory turtle neck stuck to her body like a second skin. It made her pitiful chest seem slightly less disappointing in her lack of curves figure. Her casual pea coat hung on the coat rack, there was a good chance that once she put the coat on it would not come off.

This outfit might have fit in among the hottest of New York, but she could picture the glaring and judgmental eyes of her ancestors already. She wouldn't fit in, just like a tulip in a field of white daisies. There was no room for her to grow.

Prince barked hysterically when the door bell rang. Lena grabbed the pearl dangled earrings and the rope of pearls to throw onto her body as she hustled to the door. She took a moment for her harsh breath to relax, so he didn't know that she had all out run to the door in high heels. If her hand shook when she twisted the gold door knob and pulled open the thick wooden door she hid it by folding her hands behind her back.

"You're late," she accused, the scowl returned to her face. He was in a suit again, and very breathe taking. Not that she'd ever let him know that.

"Fashionably," Shigure eyed her up, more than what was polite in even New York standards.

"Could we go already?" she used her temper, her irritability as a weapon.

"Ladies first," Shigure showed her out the door and to the horse carriage that waited at the curb. By the sideway look he gave her, he could tell it wasn't what she had expected.

"W…Whats wrong with a cab?" Lena stuttered. They were so…big! Besides police men on horseback, there weren't a lot of draft horses marching about the city.

"The cab pollutes our air, I believe living in New York you should be familiar with that," Shigure took her hand and led her down to the curb. The driver tipped his hat at her and one of the giant horses snorted impatiently.

Lena jumped at the noise. His giant head swung around to give her what was clearly a 'I'm judging you' look. Even the horses knew she didn't fit in here.

"They come bigger you know, miss. These two are just nineteen hands tall, big baby's they are," the driver's attempt to comfort her did little.

They came bigger?

"Right, well, let's get going then," Lena knew when to grit and bear it. She wasn't about to look like a fool in front of her writer.

They debated in the carriage ride, they debated while sitting at a nice Italian dinner that served semi-not greasy foods and they fought and bickered points all through a walk in the park. It had been the most intellectual straining and personality clashing dinner that Lena had ever gone through. On the other hand, she had thoroughly enjoyed every argument and difference they had pivoted at each other. Her dates were usually a bore, but wonderfully enough, there hadn't been a moment of uninterested babble with her date. From the moment the giant monster horses had shown up on her doorstep, she had strangely enjoyed herself.

"How could you skim Jane Austin? Sense and Sensibility leaves the greatest question of all time for the reader to answer, if life and love can coexist. She's one of the greatest American Novelists of all times. You'd know that if you took your nose out of your romance novels, fine literature indeed," she gave a snort.

"And what's wrong with romance novels?"

"Nothing, except that if it's been done once and it's been done a hundred times and each time the plot line thins. The characters are all the same and there's never a surprise ending," Lena explained in a huff.

"You want one of the main characters to split up or die? Then it would be a tragedy, not a romance novel," Shigure pointed out just as they reached the front door of her house.

"I'm not saying they have to split up or die, but…something different. It's all fairy tales and magic kisses in those books with princes to save the day and princess who needs them – hardly realistic," she shrugged and reached for the knob.

"You don't believe in magic?'

"I believe in what should be expected, not highly unrealistic dreams that only come crashing down around you," she had been a believer, and disappointed too many times to ever trust in magic again. Shigure gave her a long piercing look, it was as if he could see every crack and scar on her poorly patched up heart. She was using cheap band aids and chewed bubble gum to keep the pieces together. Because she couldn't handle the scrutinizing anymore, Lena disappeared behind the door, and shut it firmly on the romance novelist.

Because she couldn't survive the let down of believing in magic and princes anymore, and she defiantly didn't believe in happily ever after sealed with a romantic kiss.