WHITE BLISS
by varon, age 18
archivists: ask first! (varon_)

Standard disclaimers apply.

Italicized words here are either foreign phrases or Eriol's thoughts.

For those used to American dubbing, bear in mind that Tomoyo = Madison and Eriol = Eli. ^_^ And that this takes place when they were in their middle or late twenties, or so. Ü

And hey, if you liked this fic for even the slightest bit, please don't be shy in dropping me a line. *discreetly points to the bottom of the page* Reviews are very, VERY much appreciated. ^_^

Funny, indeed, how fast time has sped, as if the Dash Card somehow were at work.

Blinking away the bright sunlight that greeted him that morning, he automatically fixed his gaze on the woman lying beside him, her head nestled in the crook of his neck and shoulder.

Eriol Hiiragizawa smiled.

He loved looking at her like this, felt content watching her. Sound asleep, her face fixed in a beatific expression that Clow's Catholic angels would be envious of, she was a picture of tranquility. Her long lashes grazing her skin, her breathing soft and even, chest rising with every breath, her hair fanned out and spilled on the white satin sheets... She had always looked more childlike in the morning, and to him, she could not have looked more beautiful.

He realized that he's been doing this little habit, of waking up earlier than Tomoyo to watch her in her sleep, for more than a year already... and has never made an effort to break out of it.

He hoped he never would.

Carefully shifting to his side, Eriol reached over the nightstand for his glasses, so he could see her better. But even with the utmost care he took, she stirred a little when he moved, not looking too happy at the disruption from her slumber. Eriol wanted to laugh at her then, sleepily annoyed and looking every inch like a tot wanting to throw a tantrum, but kept it to himself lest he wanted to ruin the entire day.

"W'time is it?" she inquired, eyes still closed, her voice still thick with sleep.

"Too early for you to rise, Koishii," Eriol cooed, his voice low and soothing.

"Hmm." Tomoyo lightly rubbed her cheek against his bare shoulder, then rolled over to her other side, so her back fit snugly against his trunk. She bent her knees, clutching the sheets to her chest, as Eriol comfortably draped an arm over her slender waist. They were almost in a spooning position. "Then wake me up when it is."

He chuckled. "Will do." He ran a finger through her silky curls, in the way he knew she liked, trying to get her to sleep.

For now, let me watch you.

Beginnings were memories I have always been fond of looking back on.

"Love is lovelier the second time around," as they say -- and second loves truly we were -- her getting over the Sakura and I, over Kaho. One was an unrequited love, the other a life claimed by a tragic death, baneful up to this day.

Everything began in a chance meeting after several years. Loneliness had been our glue, and together, we recovered from it. In time all had been rooted in friendship. Lust came, then uncertainty, and finally, love.

The stars have spoken, and Destiny has a plan. Uncanny, how all events thereafter seemed to click together, as one turns a key in a lock. That the pieces of their life puzzle were all falling together into places.

How everything seemed so sensible, so... right.

Funny, how everything worked out.

Tomoyo was gradually drifted off to the realm of sleep when she woke to the delicious sensation of someone planting small kisses on her bare shoulder.

"Time to rise, Koishii." Eriol's breath was warm on her skin. She smiled.

"Good morning to you, too," she softly greeted her husband, who remained faithful to their routine, after more than twelve months. It never failed to amaze her how he could always, always get her to wake up with just the slightest touch on her skin... and how her body reacts to his when in contact with his, as if having a mind of its own, was just equally puzzling. It was obviously more than the rush of hormones; undoubtedly there was something about him. Tomoyo didn't find enough reason to analyze exactly what -- after all, it's not as if she's complaining.

"Come on, now." Eriol's lips climbed up her neck, to nibble on her earlobe. "Wakey-wakey," he whispered in her ear. She chuckled, her eyelids finally fluttering open.

"Ah, there you go," Eriol said, his voice still ridiculously low, "I thought you would sleep the morning away. Never knew you to be so tired, Tomoyo."

"I never knew you to be more rigorous than last night, Eriol."

"Good point," Eriol said, one arm sliding underneath her body, holding her in a firm grasp on the waist, then turning her around to him, tilting her head back to plant a gentle kiss on her lips. "But then again, we don't get to a have a prior celebration to an even more important celebration too often, do we?"

"Hmm," Tomoyo murmured in agreement, returning his kiss, "do we really have to get up?"

"If you still want to make it to your mother's house in time for the luncheon you promised her -- then the answer would be yes, I'm afraid."

At that Tomoyo sat up quickly, the sheets slipping from her grasp a notch so that Eriol has a good full view of her right breast. "Well, what time is it already?"

"Ten o'clock, darling," he responded, his eyes unashamedly fixed on her exposed breast.

"It's already ten and I haven't even stirred from my sleep?" Tomoyo caught his gaze and half-heartedly raised the sheets back up to her chest. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at Eriol. "Have you been using a sleep spell on me lately?"

Eriol rolled to his side and propped his head up on one hand. "Now why would I want to do that?"

"Because you like watching me sleep? I don't know, Eriol, you tell me."

Eriol again almost laughed, as she was right to the point, but kept an innocent facade, sitting up and holding up his hands in defense, "I wouldn't do that, Koishii. You were simply... exhausted, as you were supposed to."

Tomoyo clucked her tongue, disapprovingly, almost running a frustrated hand through her hair, "We've still got two hours anyway... should we skip breakfast?"

Eriol swung his legs over his side of the bed, stood, and reached for his robe hanging by the bed post. "Why don't we take a trip to the tub first, then we decide what to do later, okay, Tomoyo?" He held out his hand to her, grinning the smile he knew she couldn't resist, then escorted her to the bathroom.

* * *

Their bath took longer than necessary. They were supposed to take turns soaping each other, as practicality calls for it, but as soon as Tomoyo rubbed his back in slow, sensual circles Eriol responded, and within seconds, they were making love in the tub. Sometimes, all the propriety they were bred in, and all the intellect they possessed were overridden by desire, and they found it difficult to keep their hands off each other. But then again, when they were alone, decorum is tossed far into a corner, most likely mixed together where their clothes lay.

If Eriol had his way they would not have left the tub for some good thirty minutes more, but Tomoyo was insistent on getting to her Mother's on time. "After all," she pointed out, "you got me into bed a tad too late." Besides, their skin was getting wrinkles.

Eriol helped Tomoyo into a fluffy white robe as she got out of the tub. He couldn't help but admire the way the droplets glistened off her sculpted body, the body of a goddess -- HIS goddess.

Tomoyo tied the sash around her waist. "We really should hurry," she said, tiptoeing to kiss him briefly, then padded out of their bathroom. "I don't want Mother to hate you more than she already does."

Eriol tried not to cringe at that. He grabbed a towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist, running his fingers through his wet hair. "All right," he told his wife, "but first, I think now might be a good time to open my gift."

She set down her brush at that, grooming her hair momentarily forgotten, as Eriol sat down behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his finger running lazily across her stomach. He gestured at the wrapped package sitting atop the dresser.

She turned to him. "Eriol, when did it get there?"

He shrugged. "Just now."

She raised an eyebrow at his eccentricities (Really, Eriol, sometimes you scare the daylights out of me, she recalled saying that to him) but proceeded to open the gift with happy, eager curiosity.

As soon as the paper wrappings were off the small box, she took off its lid, and reached inside. Tomoyo saw that the white, stiff binding was decorated with what looked as abstract representations of the wind and water, with the stars thrown in for good measure. There was a clasp on it, like that of a closed journal. Tomoyo flicked it open.

Inside, she saw a stunning likeness of her face imprinted on a sheet of glossy material, no only slightly larger than her hand. "Beauty" was written under an image of her in a white dress, a lily of the valley tucked in her ear. She flipped it over, then saw another one similar to it. She, in a green dress, looking over the ocean with the breeze whipping through her hair, and below it, "Serenity." She looked at the next one, and found "Mischief;" the next, "Joy;" then, "Temperance;" then, "Slender."

There were fifty-two of them... It was a deck of cards. A special deck of cards, and each of her traits, whether physically or otherwise, was on every piece.

Very much like Sakura's Cards, back in her "capturing" days.

Eriol watched her reaction in the vanity mirror. "I call them 'Tomoyo Cards,' for obvious reasons." Then he added, by way of explanation, "For the forty-eight weeks I have shared with you, plus the one month before we were wed. One card, for every week -- each week you have exhibited one of these qualities, in one way or another."

Tomoyo did not immediately respond. He could see her eyes, glazed, as if drifting off to some far memory, but reflecting, all the same; moved, even. Suddenly she looked very fragile... Eriol hoped he had been careful enough not to break her.

Her eyes finally met his. "They're... beautiful, Eriol. I -- didn't expect this." She leaned back, so that her head was on his bare shoulder; as if on cue he promptly kissed her temple. A small but grateful smile played on her lips. "Thank you."

"Even then..." In all gentleness that he could muster, Eriol just had to ask. "Do they remind you of Sakura?"

He watched her finger the cards for a moment, then came her soft reply. " You know that my love for Sakura-chan is long forgotten. Her friendship is still important to me, but in the context you're putting it, today... she seems like someone from my past. Pushed back very far into the past." Tomoyo raised her head so she can meet his stare. Her eyes were like never he had seen them -- content, and sure. "Now, I have only you."

"Hmmm," Eriol murmured, bending down to kiss her again, "you better."

Funny how everything seemed so -- magical, for lack of a better word.

Tomoyo reluctantly broke away from his kiss, which was beginning to progress into something more. She did so not wholly out of her own volition, but because her body was reacting again, and she had to prevent another lovemaking session. She was not going to embarrass herself in front of her mother by smelling like she and Eriol had just had sex.

"We'll continue this later, okay, Anata?" Tomoyo promised, disentangling herself from him, then turning her attention back to her mirror.

"As you wish." Eriol got up and went into the walk-in closet across the room. He was in the process of picking out a dress shirt when he heard Tomoyo's soft voice speak to him again.

"Ne, Eriol," she began, thoughtfully.

Eriol picked out a cream-colored shirt, then reemerged into where she was. "Yes?

He found her examining the cards once again. "Do these cards have...power, too?"

Aa. "Hmm," was all he said.

She heard the knowing smile in his voice. She mockingly raised an eyebrow, and demanded, "Well?"

Eriol's eyes glinted. "Let's just say -- I designed them to draw their power from you."

He was rewarded with another smile -- puzzled, even doubtful, but charming, all the same. How come he can never get enough of those, of her? "Oh well," Tomoyo said, with overstated contemplation, "I suppose we can include magic in our lives once in a while."

"We already have magic in our lives," he said huskily, coming up behind her again and nuzzling her ear. "I found you, remember?"

"Iie, Anata," Tomoyo said with a of shake of her head. "That wasn't magic." She turned around to fully face him, a finger reaching up to place a gentle caress on his lips. "That's called love."

Eriol's smile, slowly spreading across and lighting up his face, was magnanimous.

Funny, how the sickeningly mushy, although romantic, things I can scorn at, suddenly weren't funny at all.

They were simply, true.

~ end ~

Hmmm... Tomoyo Cards. ^_^ Could be a series in the works... XD

Need help in Japanese?

Koishii -- "darling," I think. Most often used term of endearment by Kenshin to Kaoru in Ruouni Kenshin fanfics. XD Well, it sounds nice, so I decided to use it here.

Anata -- term of endearment for the husband, as far as I know.

Iie -- "No."

-chan -- term attached after the name of a dear friend, or a girl, or a child.

~ varon
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