Crescent Moon Fan Fiction ❯ A Life Best Kept Secret ❯ Call me back to dreams ( Chapter 8 )

Note to Disclaimers: I do not own Crescent Moon so don't sue me. This is pretty standard, right?

A/N: The story isnow, officially, M-rated.Not old enough—DON'T READ IT. And if you do well, don't get caught by your parents or complain—it was YOUR choice, after all. It's going to be A/U and that's not going to change, not at this point when the story is so far in already. Um…the plot is developing well, I think. Also, I will have a thanks page for my reviewers because you guys have been so faithful to this story even though I don't post chapters as quickly as most people would like. Well, not much of anything else to say, except that this is a bit of a filler chapter w/a little excitement—I like to think anyway. Hope you like it.The future chapters will be a little heavier. Enjoy the light one while you can.

::Warning:: There IS definite CITRUSY/LEMON/LIME type of content following. Viewer's discretion is advised.

Word Coding:

`Thoughts'

“Speaking”

Everything else

A Life Best Kept Secret

 

Movement, in its truest sense—that is what the young man on the stage was demonstrating as he swayed to the beat of the music, his arms caressing his own body, hypnotically. Was it love, or was it infatuation mixed with pungent passion that she felt underneath her skin, coursing through her veins like white fire, searing in her being? Her mind could not decide as she, once again, focused on the seductive gyration of his hips against the pole, his hair falling over his eyes as he peered out into the crowd. His lips parted as he inhaled, sensually, a large breath and released, the breath coming out in a low moan. She felt her face flush as she continued observing him. His hands began to pull at his shirt as he bent backwards, his chocolate colored eyes locking with hers—a look of slight alarm—as she took a step back, almost dropping her waitress tray. His aqua hair clung to his sweaty skin as he discarded his shirt into the screaming throng of women around him. The stage lights illuminated his now tanned complexion as one hand tangled itself in his dampened hair while the other snuck its fingers into the chainlike belts of his leather pants. He slowly began to undo his pants, from button to zipper before returning his lithe fingers back to his chest, running them over himself, his eyes closing in feigned arousal.

 

She fell back against the bar, her breathing heavy and labored as he licked his lips, grabbing the pole he'd previously been dancing with for another go. Her legs felt weak all of a sudden, as though she couldn't function properly, her eyes only on him. She gripped the railing of the glossed cherry wood surface, her hands turning white as she held onto it for support. She didn't trust herself to speak or think coherently as she tried to tear her eyes away; but her gaze would not leave the magical contours of his body, or his amazing ability to render her senseless. She would have melted into a puddle at the look he was giving her from the stage, but he suddenly stopped dancing. She sighed in slight relief as he walked to the edge of the stage, his body glistening with the work of his dancing, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and chest. However, she pulled her gaze away as she grabbed a few available glasses to fill with liquids. She was placing the now filled glasses on the tray when a voice broke her thoughts. She swiveled around to face the young man on the too-highly elevated platform.

 

“It's Tuesday night, isn't it?” He glanced around. Ladies screamed in reply. A smirk crept on his face as he leaned over the stage, winking at the crowd of crazed women. “Well, then, am I right to believe that it is private dance Tuesday?” Women shrieked in response. “Well, seems it's my choice then.”

 

Mahiru wasn't sure what that meant but decided to ignore it as she went about her business like nothing had changed as shouts of “pick me” echoed around her. She was placing someone's order down in front of her when she realized the air around her was completely silent. She looked around. All the women were staring at her, and so was the young man on the stage. “Um…can I help you?” She asked nervously as she held her tray close to her chest. The women glared.

 

“You're my choice tonight, miss,” Mitsuru replied as he hopped off the stage and gracefully made his way towards her, ignoring the many hands that reached out to touch him. She blanched as he took her hand in his, throwing the women a smile over his shoulder. “Thanks for your time ladies.” As he dragged her towards one of the private suites behind the bar, he took her tray and tossed it on the counter. He snapped his fingers and a woman suddenly appeared in the clearing. Mahiru recognized the woman as her boss, Lucy. “Lu, she's my choice tonight. See that someone else takes her shift.” Lucy nodded, a devious smile on her lips as they disappeared into the long hall of doors. Mitsuru selected one, opened it and shoved Mahiru through the door before locking it again. Her nervousness rose as he whirled around to face her, his eyebrows knitted together, his forehead creased in slight irritation. “What are you doing here?”

 

Mahiru blushed brightly. “I…Mitsuru…I work here.”

 

“Since when?” He asked, pacing the length of the room with an anxiousness that Mahiru had never witnessed in him before.

 

She blushed again. “I've been working here for about six months…maybe more. I know I work at the store too, but the money just wasn't enough and…well…I needed another job. Oboro won't be angry with me, will he?”

 

He knew something fishy had been up, ever since the day she'd fainted in the store. Obviously this meant that Nozomu didn't know; she'd been working here for at least half—if not more, like she'd mentioned—the year and school was almost over. Mitsuru blinked. `Is she gonna quit once school is over? And if that stupid bloodsucker doesn't know, then…' No one knew, he realized as he spun around to face her. However, her look of questioning did not disappear and he strained to remember what she'd asked him minutes before. “I don't know. How come I haven't seen you around here at all before?” She was about to answer but he ignored her, sighing in frustration. “Listen, you didn't see any of this, got it? If Oboro knew about you…and if anyone else finds out about me…forget it, just forget it, stupid girl.”

 

“Yes, Mitsuru…I understand,” she replied quietly as she made to leave. She was almost at the door when he stopped her. “…Yes?”

 

“Where are you going?” His eyes were boring holes into hers as he approached her, his look rather predatory all of a sudden. As much as he was surprised and somewhat angry that she had caught him in such a degrading predicament, he couldn't deny the fact that he was attracted to her, whether he admitted it to her or not. He would not let her slip away from him so easily. Trying his best to appear disgruntled, he reached for her hand. “I chose you for the dance, and I must perform for you; it's my job.”

 

“Oh, no…that's okay…I should be getting back to work,” she answered as she nodded her head towards the door, a nervous smile on her face as she dodged his outreached hand. She all but yelped when he grabbed her hand and turned her back towards the couch. She twiddled her fingers when he guided her sit down on its cushioned surface. “Mitsuru…I…but Lucy and the customers…I—”

 

He silenced her as he pushed her against the back pillows of the furniture piece, standing over her with his hands on either side of her head. “It's been taken care of.” He could have practically straddled her lap but decided against pleasing himself too quickly. Instead, he opted for putting his knee between her legs, pushing it up only far enough so that her waitress skirt was exposing a few inches of her milky thighs. She gasped at the contact as he lowered his head to her neck, gently brushing his lips over her heated skin as his eyes slid shut. Mahiru moaned as her head fell back against her own accord. Mitsuru felt his heartbeat quicken at the small, unintentional but pleasing sound. `I've been waiting…I've wanted to do this for so long…Mahiru,' he thought as his hands drifted up her legs, sliding up beneath her skirt. Mahiru's eyes were closed as well, her fingertips dropping onto Mitsuru's back as he continued to kiss his way down from her neck to the crook where her shoulder and collarbone met. Mahiru's mind was drifting off when she remembered why he'd brought her in the room to begin with.

 

Her eyes shot open as she pushed him off, her eyes blurry from brimming tears as she stared at his bewildered face. “Mitsuru, that…that isn't a dance! What were you…I don't…what just happened?” He gave her a blank stare, his insides furious at her for pushing him away. She blinked, fighting back confused tears as she turned towards the door. “Excuse me.”

 

Just as she reached the door, Mitsuru bolted forward, taking hold of her wrist as he attempted to keep her in the dimly lit room. “No…Mahiru, wait!”

 

She stopped struggling as her name left his lips. “You said…Mitsuru…you said my name…” her eyes softened as his grip loosened, his unoccupied hand coming to rest against her cheek. “But I don't understand…you can't stand me…you hate me…”

 

“Is that what you really think?” he responded quietly as he brought his face to hers, his lips claiming her partially open pair as he brought both hands to her wrists, sliding them up so that her arms were crossed above her head. He had successfully pinned her against the wall, dominate again as he pressed his entire body against hers, which caused her back to completely mold against the wall. Mitsuru could feel his own pulse quicken as her lips moved beneath his, tentative but curious. His body reacted on its own accord as her hands twitched between his fingers, itching to move, to touch him. Her arms were beginning to cramp slightly and her body twitched as well, accidentally pushing against his. Mitsuru let out a hiss from between his teeth as she wriggled her arms free of his now loosened grip. His coherent thoughts seemed to lessen and lessen as Mahiru's curious, adventurous hands came to rest on his chest, which was already shirtless. His skin felt smooth underneath her heated fingertips as they roved up and down, their course of exploration unknown to either young adult. She could feel her body aflame as one of his hands came to rest on her hip while the other brought them a little away from the wall. As soon as that had been accomplished, Mitsuru tipped her head back, hoping to gain better access to the soft flesh of her neck. His kisses were passionate and filled with a burning sensation, she noted, as he kissed a trail down her neck to just above the hem of her uniform top.

 

Mitsuru was enjoying himself so much that he failed to notice that Mahiru had reached up a leg and wrapped it around his waist. He gasped, his lips leaving hers for a moment when she accidentally shifted to get more comfortable, and ground her hips against his. Mahiru, too, felt more than heard her own moan as a reaction to their bodies pressed together in such an intimate position. `Maybe she's not so innocent after all,' Mitsuru mused as he felt her eager lips on his neck. Mahiru was embarrassed by her actions at first, but as she looked at Mitsuru's somewhat helpless, panting form above her, she lost all sense of uncertainty. Swooping down like a hawk for its prey, Mahiru secured her leg around Mitsuru's waist before tangling one hand in his aqua locks and yanking his head closer to hers as she locked their lips once again. Mitsuru swore he was seeing stars as the blonde kissed him senseless, her lips never letting up as she pressed her breasts against his chest, teasing. Neither Mitsuru nor Mahiru were quite sure whether she was actually herself. But the thought was forgotten when Mitsuru regained control of his thoughts and turned them around so that they both fell on the couch, never once breaking contact of their lips. As Mitsuru lay above her, he could feel the strain in his pants, the tightness making his insides quiver and ache with desire; Mahiru brought her other leg to lock around his waist.

 

Another soft, pleasurable hiss left his lips as Mahiru broke the kiss, panting. Her own hair was somewhat sweaty from his “dancing” as she slowly opened her eyes, half-lidded with passion and lust. Mitsuru recognized it right away, a feeling he was familiar with in his line of work; all the women looked at him that way. But something about the way Mahiru looked at him screamed something different. Yes, there was passion and lust in her eyes; but something deeper lingered behind them. `Could she…?' His thoughts trailed off as Mahiru wound her arms around his neck, lifting herself up so that she could whisper in his ear. Her voice was trembling, he noted, as she breathed into his ear. “M-Mitsuru…are we going to…um….have sex?”

 

He blanched as he pushed her back down onto the couch, looking into her eyes. “Do you…I don't…this isn't just sex, Mahiru.”

 

Her eyes widened as she gaped at him like a fish, quite unattractively in his opinion—but he thought she was endlessly beautiful nonetheless. “Then…what do you call this?”

 

He paused, searching for the proper words. `I know that I love her…but is now the time to tell her?' He gazed into her blue-brown eyes, which were scared and…hopeful? Lowering himself to her face until his nose touched hers, Mitsuru let out a shaky breath. “I…I care about you Mahiru, a lot. I've…cared about you for a long time now. I don't want to rush you or anything…but I care for you, really I...” He sighed when he couldn't find the words to express his thoughts, frustrated. “I really care for you…and I'm not good at explaining this…”

 

`He cares about me, a lot? But he didn't say he loved me…so is this…wrong, to want to have sex with him?' Mahiru gasped as his lips met hers, not sure whether to cry or kiss him to his death. She was still confused by his strange confession and actions, not to mention she wanted to sleep with him. `But he'd never intentionally hurt me…and he cares about me…Mitsuru cares about me!' Ignoring her thoughts for a moment, she gave into the sensations that he caused throughout her body, the delicious tingles that coursed up and down her spine. She enjoyed every moment he touched her and everywhere his fingertips roamed as he worked his way down her collarbone to her shirt. When he reached the hem, he slowly pulled at the top in order to remove it. Mahiru let out a slightly embarrassed giggle as she assisted him, lifting her arms up so he could pull the annoying but skimpy uniform from her upper body. She shivered a little as the outside air hit her exposed skin. Even though it wasn't exactly cold in the room the change in temperature still caused her skin to blow over with goose bumps. She was about to ask Mitsuru a question when she felt his hands come up and cup her breasts. Even though he had removed her shirt her bra still remained in place, and he suddenly became irritated at the material blocking his fingers from touching her. Mahiru sighed in annoyance as she reached to remove it, but Mitsuru was quicker. His fingers sought her bra strap and quickly snapped it off—Mahiru didn't know he knew how to do such a thing.

 

When they were free from the confines of the lacy material, she settled back in contentment as Mitsuru continued his handy work. She gasped at the contact only to have it turn into a moan as his mouth encompassed one of them, causing her to fall into his grasp like jello. She writhed, gripping anything she could get her hands one, as he nipped at her skin, causing a slight burning sensation to course through her; then following it up with a flick of his tongue. This caused a soothing sensation to follow the burning one, earning him a satisfied breathing pattern from his partner. Mahiru couldn't tell how long she'd be able to hold out. She hoped longer, seeing as to she'd never experienced anything like it. She was, one could say, rather inexperienced with the whole sex issue, as well as what to expect. She already felt like an idiot, blushing when she'd open her eyes to actually look at Mitsuru as he worked, or as she touched him in return. His face, which held a look of what she could only describe as pleasure, made her flesh heat, causing trails of white, hot, soothing fire to course through her body. She was enjoying watching him as he did what he wanted to her body. She wasn't sure where he received the experience but at that point, she could care less, too. Complete coherent thoughts were seemingly pointless—she figured—when there was a gorgeous man—it helped that she was attracted to him in more ways than one—pleasing her and treating her body like a temple for worshipping.

 

Sighing contentedly, Mahiru could only squirm comfortably as Mitsuru kissed her everywhere his lips could, tracing a small trail that stopped just above her under wear. She let out a surprised squeak of embarrassment as he kissed her thighs, working from the outside to the inside until he was right between the juncture of her legs. Blushing, she reached down to stop him, feeling self conscious all of a sudden. He blinked, stopping his ministrations to look up at her. She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as he continued to gaze at her in confusion.

 

“Uh…I…I'm not ready for that,” she finally mumbled, her cheeks on fire as she tried to look anywhere but his dark, brooding, mesmerizing eyes. When he said nothing, she fell back, trying to explain herself without breaking the mood. “I just…this is so embarrassing…” she trailed off.

 

“Don't be embarrassed,” his voice answered, cutting through her thoughts as he slowly crawled up her body until he was hovering above her, trapping her with his arms and knees. “I respect that you don't want this right now, Mahiru.” In truth, he did want to ignore what she'd asked; but he would not do such a thing, mainly because he did care about her. Instead, he lowered himself until their lips almost touched, breathing out slowly until she shivered. “But you can always tell me what you do want.”

 

“Oh…I…what can you do?” She inquired, somewhat shaken from his question.

 

He merely let out an amused chuckle, which she adored, considering she'd never really heard him laugh or anything of the like. “I can do anything you want me to do, Mahiru.”

 

Blushing madly, she carefully settled on just kissing him again. Once she'd stopped, she let out a shy giggle. “I uh…I like this. I don't know if I'm ready to go further right now,” she replied, her cheeks flushing more.

 

Mitsuru couldn't deny that he was having some trouble, mainly because he really wanted her then and there. But he nodded, relenting and sitting back a little as she reached for her bra. As she slowly began to put it on, he couldn't help but feel a little guilty. “Mahiru?”

 

She glanced at him, stopping midway. “Yes, Mitsuru?”

 

“I hope you don't think…I mean…will you uh…go out with me?” He asked, tentative.

 

She laughed a little, her flushed cheeks glowing as she smiled. “After that, Mitsuru, what do you think my answer would is, you big meanie?” He blinked. “Yes, of course I will.” After she'd replaced her work uniform, she stood to leave. Her hand was on the doorknob but right before she left, she turned around, giving him a shy, embarrassed grin. “I just…want to take things slow right now, all right?” Then she was gone.

 

He smirked, dreamily as he tried to control his body. “For you, Mahiru, anything.”

 

Outside the door, Mahiru breathed in and out, steadily in hopes to catch her breath before she returned to work. Her mind was going a million miles per minute when she thought about what just happened in the room. She quickly glanced around, pulling her skirt down as she did so and waited for someone to come back and scold her about not working. It was a mere minute before Lucy emerged, a smirk on her lips and hands on her hips. Mahiru blanched, flushing all over again as she stumbled for words. “Lucy I…it's not what you think…I just…uh…”

 

Lucy chuckled. “So, he finally managed to catch you, did he?”

 

Mahiru blinked. “What?”

 

“Mitsuru—he managed to catch you.” When Mahiru didn't appear to understand, Lucy grabbed the girl by her arm and dragged her towards the bar where guys were noisily harassing Alina for drinks. “That young man there…he talked about you after work, all the time. He's talking about you for years now.”

 

“A couple years? But I've only known him since the beginning of this year…or something,” Mahiru replied, flustered. Lucy suddenly became rather perturbed. “Lucy, what's the matter?”

 

“You can go home already. You've had a long night Mahi, so pack your stuff up and enjoy the rest of your night, all right?” Lucy shooed her away.

 

Before she knew it she had arrived home; she hadn't even said by to Mitsuru. `Maybe I'm just dreaming, and tomorrow I'll wake up…and it'll all be a lie,' she thought as she set her stuff down in her closet. She quickly peeled her sweaty clothes off and hopped in the shower for a quick rinse off. As the water ran she thought back, again, to Mitsuru and the private dance room. She shivered, anticipation coursing through her as she let the hot beads of water slide down her skin; she could feel everything even though he wasn't there. `But it has to be a dream,' she told herself repeatedly. `Mitsuru hates me…why in the world would he want to have sex with someone he hates? Why would he care about someone he hates?' Shaking her head, she turned the hot water knob off, letting out a yelp when the cold water washed over her skin. After she was finished drying off and toweling her hair, she slipped into her pajamas and threw herself on her bed. Snuggling into her pillow, she gave the moon one last solemn look, hoping that the evening wasn't all a dream. But after a few minutes, she felt a tear slip down her cheek. `No…it must be a dream…it has to be…' Her last thought died before formulated as she fell into a peaceful slumber.

 

:LINE BREAK:

 

“We're back! Did you all miss us?”

 

Akira let out a loud laugh as he glomped Nozomu, knocking his shades off. “Nozomu! Of COURSE you were missed! The store is so empty without you!”

 

Misoka rolled his eyes. “However, I did not miss the hyper ness of you, Akira.”

 

The younger man pouted. “Misoka, you're so mean!”

 

“Welcome back,” Keiko added, holding a few CD's in her hand. “Uh…Mitsuru isn't in today and Mahiru overslept. She's on her way.”

 

“Overslept? That's odd. I mean she oversleeps for school all the time but it's been about four months since that really happened. Was she asleep late last night?” Nozomu inquired.

 

“No,” Keiko replied, shaking her head. “All the lights were out when Akira and I went by yesterday night. Maybe she forgot to set her alarm.”

 

“I'll ask about it,” Nozomu smiled and waved it away. “Well, I'm off. I have to go home and call my father. See you all later.” With that, he was gone. Nozomu shook his head the minute he was out of the store, trying desperately to clear it. He was about halfway to his car when he ran into his sister. She was in such a hurry she almost fell over from shock when she hit him. Laughing, he steadied her in his arms, smiling down at her panting form. “Mahiru, I see that you're late this morning.”

 

She blinked, momentarily stupefied before jumping on her brother. “Nozomu, you're back!”

 

“Hi, Mahiru,” he replied, returning the sweet gesture. “How are you feeling this morning?”

 

She smiled, tiredly. “I'm a little sleepy…but I had a lost of homework last night. I fell asleep on top of it and had to get up early to finish it.” She waved to Keiko. “I'm sorry I can't talk, but I'm late. Can we talk later?” He nodded; she grinned wider. “Ok, bye brother!” She quickly kissed him on the cheek before darting to the door. “See you later!”

 

He waved to her too, smiling until she'd disappeared behind the door. Once she was out of sight, his shoulders slumped a little as he finally made it to his car. Once inside, he slumped completely in the driver's seat, bringing his hand to his forehead. `What's wrong with me?' He sat there for what felt like eons, though it was mere seconds, before starting up the ignition to go home. The entire drive there had him distracted as he brought his hand to his cheeks, subconsciously rubbing the spot where Mahiru's lips had made contact with his own skin—he suddenly felt warm. He quickly rolled down the windows, hoping the air would calm his nerves as he pulled into the driveway of their house. It looked the same as always though it was daytime and no one was there. Immediately his eyes traveled the length of the hardwood until they landed on Mahiru's bedroom window—her curtains were drawn slightly, and at an odd angle as though she'd done it in her sleep. Chuckling, he got out of the car and went to the mailbox to retrieve the mail. Once he'd done that, he went inside the house and gasped. It appeared as though Mahiru had been cleaning recently, more than just her bedroom too. He wondered if the rest of the house was as immaculate as the living room.

 

After five minutes of looking everywhere, he had to admit that he was impressed. Everything was spotless, for the most part. Inside the kitchen he grabbed a can of raspberry iced tea and was about to down it when something caught his eye on the refrigerator. On her To-Do list was his number and the name of his hotel in the Number one slot. Next to it was a note that read, “This is most important—call Nozomu first thing every morning!” with many exclamation marks next to it. He felt his smile deepen; she had called him every morning, true to her word. Before he could control himself, he lifted a finger to the note, trailing it slowly over the lettering. `She really called me…and never forgot, not once…' It was another split-second before he finally caught himself, eyes widening as he fell onto a chair, tea forgotten as his hands cradled his head. `No…no…what am I thinking?' Shaking his head furiously, he snatched the aluminum can up and walked to his room, suddenly somber. Once there he fell back onto his bed, turning his head towards the dresser where there was a picture of him and Mahiru, playing pick up sticks with jacks instead of actual sticks. He felt his cheeks aflame and turned to look at the ceiling. `Mahiru…what are you doing to me?'

 

:LINE BREAK:

 

Mahiru was utterly bored again, as was the usual, as she continued organizing carts for the next day. Keiko was up front helping people with Akira, and Mitsuru was nowhere in sight. `I guess…well, then it must've been a dream,' she mused as she placed a CD on the cart, her brows furrowed in concentration. `This sucks…' she was halfway through her first shelf when she realized that if it was a dream, how disappointed she really was. Sulking, she let her head fall against the CD's, her eyes watering a little. `I hate my life…'

 

“Hey.”

 

Instantly Mahiru fell off her stool, back hitting the floor. She groaned in protest as she squeezed her eyes shut. `Dammit…' Sighing, she did nothing to help herself as she tried to ignore the greeting. `He's not here, it's not real…I'm imagining.' She was about to cry when she heard it again. “Stop teasing me…”

 

“Are you ok, Mahiru? What the matter with you?”

 

`He's really here! But that doesn't mean it wasn't a dream…' Sighing again, she slowly lifted herself up. “Mitsuru…I thought you weren't coming in today. Keiko told me…” She trailed off suddenly. “Did you just call me Mahiru?” He nodded. “But you never…what's going on? That must've been one hell of a dream…”

 

“You thought that was a dream?” He stepped closer to help her up.

 

She gasped. “Well, it had to have been! There is no way you would've kissed me! You hate me, remember?” She let out a nervous chuckle when he just gave her an intense stare, his eyes narrowing. She hadn't realized how close he'd gotten in the process of helping her up, which was odd in itself. `Maybe it WASN'T a dream…' She laughed again, more nervous than before. “Mitsuru, I—”

 

She was silenced when his lips closed over her, softly and gently as he lifted her from the ground until she was kneeling in front of him, hands clasping his shirt. Once she seemed to be stable, he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along her lips until she gasped again. Taking this opportunity, he slowly probed the crevices of her mouth with his tongue, tasting the sweetness of strawberry jelly. She shivered as his hands brought them closer, his fingers curling around her waist. After a minute or so, they broke for air, Mahiru flushed and disbelieving while Mitsuru inhaled, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Do you still think it was a dream?”

 

She blinked, dumbfounded for a moment before her face suddenly turned red and her hands came up to cup of her face in embarrassment. “No, I…I don't think so,” she mumbled quietly as she leaned on his chest for support. His arms circled her automatically, rubbing her back comfortingly. “Oh…I…”

 

“It's ok. I meant what I said yesterday night, Mahiru.”

 

“I…I care about you Mahiru, a lot. I've…cared about you for a long time now. I don't want to rush you or anything…but I care for you, really I…” Mahiru blushed harder, burrowing into his chest at the memory. `Oh yeah…now I remember.' She nodded, reliving the night before. “I know…I just…I was hoping so badly that I tried to not get my hopes up so high that I…” she sighed. “I'm not making any sense.”

 

“I get it,” he whispered in reply, smiling a little. “But Mahiru, we need to…um…”

 

“Talk about what this means? About what happens now?” She supplied, her voice tentative. “Um…Nozomu can't know.”

 

“I agree,” he said. “But what about everyone else?”

 

“No one else has to know. I want to take things slow, remember?” She pecked his nose suddenly. “Just…let's take things slow.”

 

“Right…slow,” he murmured back as he moved in for another kiss. `I don't know where this will go with you Mahiru…but I love you…' He thought as she responded to his kiss. `I really love you.'

 

`She's not going to make it.' Mahiru felt another shiver run down her spine when she heard the voice again; but she pushed it away as she continued to kiss Mitsuru. `Mahiru, I love you.' Though the voice sounded a lot like Mitsuru, she decided to ignore it anyway. `Pay attention to Mitsuru, pay attention to Mitsuru!' She was slowly aware that things were becoming a bit heavy in her mind, and she clutched Mitsuru tighter as they kissed.

 

`Mahiru, I love you.' `This is your new sister, Mahiru Shiraishi.' `Akira.' `Misoka.' `Friend forever, right Mahi?'

 

`She's not going to make it.' `She'll lose it all, everything she used to know.' `Her recovery is amazing.'

 

`Please don't forget me…you are the only one who gave me a chance.' `Please wake up; I need you.'

 

`I'LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS; I HATE YOU!'

 

`I HATE YOU!'

 

Mahiru threw herself away from Mitsuru, hugging herself with her arms as she sobbed. Mitsuru raised a brow, confused as he leaned forward to ask her what was wrong. “Mahiru, what's the matter?” She shook her head. “Please tell me. Maybe I can help you.”

 

“Why? What are these voices? Why do you hate me? Why?” She shouted at him through her tears.

 

He blinked in disbelief, about to retort when her eyes suddenly rolled back into her head. He barely had time to catch her before she collapsed on the floor. “Oh shit…”

 

TBC

 

:LINE BREAK:

 

(AH! That was it for Chapter 8. I guess it was more of a filler chappie than anything else. It should get better in the next one. No real concrete stuff in this one—sorry all. Anywho, this one still took a while cause it's hard to write citrusy stuff, for me anyway. Well, not much else to say, except that the rating is gonna change. Please R&R if you liked or hated it. That's all. Bye.

 

Chocomintswirl