Guess What? I don't own the characters of Sailor Moon. The pretty soldiers and their pretty boys belong to Naoko Takeuchi. Sadness! ;)
This chapter took me a long while to come up with. Admittedly, I haven't even actually decided on where I want this fic to go, so I'm pretty much wingin' it. Hope it's still remotely interesting to someone out there. And I'm pushing this thing forward because I don't want this to take a hundred more years to finish. Things are going to be moving pretty freakin' quickly from now on if I do what I think I'm going to. I will have a finished fic before I die, dammit! *falls over* And remember, this is a work of complete and utter fiction…which is why the things that happen herein can happen herein. Yay!
Some lemonish happenings at the end, just so ya' know…
*SLIGHT* UPDATE: A few of you pointed out that I'd neglected to add something important into the lemonish bit, so I fixed it. Thanks to those that let me know! :D
She stared out the window, silence reining as mile after mile passed. The couple had vacated their hotel room just before dawn, both having slept fitfully through the night, Serena still resembling a zombie of sorts as they drove towards their destination. She still wasn't sure exactly where that was, though she'd firmly decided to put her full faith in the man by her side, a hard line drawn across his face as they continued on. It was beyond obvious that his mind was full and Serena was too anxious to interrupt his brooding to ask anything further about their destination.
She ran his earlier reply over again in her mind, wondering who on Earth he was speaking of. 'To see a friend.' What sort of friends would this man keep? Other hit men? It was still an impossible thing to believe, though Serena had turned it over so many times in her mind now that she'd almost come to accept it, as terrible a truth as it was. The only saving grace she'd been able to come up with was that perhaps he'd only taken the lives of those deserving to lose them…the scum of the Earth, as it were. She hoped against hope that it were true, that he wasn't some indiscriminate killer that did anything and everything to make a dollar. If that were the case, she could see things becoming even more woefully complicated than they'd already become, and very quickly at that.
"Are you feeling alright?" came his deep voice, snapping her out of her small reverie. She turned towards him, managing a small smile.
"Sorry. I'm a little spaced," she admitted, leaning into his hand as he cupped her cheek.
"You have every right to be. I suppose you'd like to know where we're going," he noted, his hand moving to rest upon her thigh.
"I can't say I'm not curious. I'd really love to know, actually," she admitted, her fingers tracing along his bandaged knuckles. She wondered absently how many people would assume the two of them had been engaged in a domestic squabble after taking in the sight of them, Darien with is bandaged knuckles and she with a healing split lip. The raven haired man began his explanation, taking hold of the small fingers tracing along the top of his hand as he spoke.
"My father was, amongst those of our trade, a master. He lived by the gun and the blade for many years, after working his way to the top of his game. The city we're bound for was his haunt, many years ago. A man lives there…Sam is his name. He was my father's closest and perhaps only true friend in this life, and he is my godfather. He and his wife practically raised me while my father made his living...provided for both of us with his skill. I lived with Sam until I became old enough to learn my father's trade. After that, I began training under him, learning all there was to know about becoming a deadly weapon, just as my father himself. Never was there a man that could best him in all his years. It was because of that reason that many a jealous rival banded together to assassinate him. My father laid waste to God only knows how many that attempted to steal away his life, but even so, he was at last taken down by a man named Marco…a man that had hidden his true ambitions behind a mask of friendship.
Sam discovered his plan too late. By the time he arrived, my father had already been overcome, Marco having slipped poison into his drink and left him behind to die. Sam arrived to find my father in convulsions, near the end of his time on Earth. He managed to utter Marco's name before he passed, and Sam swore an oath to avenge my father's death. I, however, got to him first. Marco became my first hit. I was fifteen years old when I put a bullet through his head. I've never felt such a sense of satisfaction in my life…until you came along. Sick, isn't it? That the act of killing and the presence of an amazing woman can have to same sort of affect on me?" he wondered, the information he'd just revealed causing her heart to sting.
God, he'd been so young when he'd been exposed to this life. No wonder, she thought, that he'd turned out to follow in his father's footsteps, having known nothing else his entire life. Serena thought for a moment, choosing her response carefully.
"You know…if someone killed my father, I'd want them dead, too," she said, lifting his arm and slipping in under it, her head coming to rest upon his uninjured shoulder.
"You're such an odd girl. You make no mention of the fact that I enjoyed the act of killing another human being. That makes me a monster, doesn't it?" he wondered, his arm pulling her closer against him.
"Monsters have no emotions, no conscience. You obviously have bouts of dealing with both, so you can't be so horrible. You wouldn't have saved me if you were such a beast, would you? I mean, you don't just kill anyone…do you?" she asked, hoping that his answer would be remotely acceptable.
"Well…my emotions and conscience I blame entirely on you," he teased, "and no, even I have prerequisites. When it comes to hits, I only dispose of those that deal in less than wholesome activities…drug trafficking, extortion, torture, kidnapping, murder… I suppose you could even consider it justice in some sick way or another. I'm a villain that kills villains," he told her, the man having been made content by the feeling of his companion's small form tucked in against him.
"You're the Angel of Death," she said, a small chuckle escaping him. "But I don't think you're so much of a villain. Not really. You're probably making things easier on a lot of people with what you do. Look, I'm not leaping for joy over the fact that you enjoy taking lives, but it makes it a tiny bit easier knowing that you don't just kill to get paid without having other reasons. The cops would probably thank you, if it were legal and all that jazz," she muttered, sighing mightily at the weight of their conversation.
"Angel of Death," he said, turning over the thought in his mind. Perhaps he was just that.
"You may be, but you're my guardian angel," she informed him, her stomach growling without her consent. Glancing at the clock in the dashboard, she noticed it was nearly 9 o'clock and had been a while since she'd eaten. In fact, she was practically starving, but she'd had quite enough occupying her mind as of late to run the idea of eating form her mind. Until now.
"We'll find somewhere to stop shortly. I'm sorry I haven't taken better care of you," he apologized, the girl looking up at him, a smile tugging at her lips.
"I'm sorry to be such a burden. Everything would be fine if it weren't for me. Maybe you should've just left me there to…"
"Serena, don't say such foolish things. I'll face hell head on to keep you from harm. It's because of me that you've been through so much already. I'll not allow you to be hurt again," he vowed, "because you and only you mean the very world to me, baby."
His words caused flames to dance within her chest, her heart aching upon hearing such things spoken by the man that had turned her very world upside down since she'd first laid eyes upon him. That day, which hadn't been long ago at all, seemed like an eternity away, their whirlwind romance having left her completely breathless in its wake. Even after everything that had occurred, she still couldn't find it in herself to regret having met him, this enigma of a man that had stolen her very heart away.
"Sorry. I must be delirious," she said, Darien turning to place a kiss upon her brow.
"But delirium makes you so enchanting," he noted, still holding her close as they continued down the highway, Serena's mind refusing to give her any peace.
The light haired manpaced to and fro in the cold, sterile room, stopping periodically to drum his fingers against the table before him. He glanced downward, his hand picking up the lone scrap of paper, his eyes running over the black numbers scrawled across it. Where were those idiots? He'd sent them to determine exactly who the phone number belonged to hours ago and hadn't heard a word from them since.
He picked up his phone, quickly dialing and awaiting an answer. After several rings, his frustration only growing, a voice was heard on the other end of the line, the man immediately barking his demand.
"What the hell are you morons doing besides wasting my fucking time?" he growled, his impatience growing by the second as he awaited an answer.
"Sorry boss. Don't worry, though. We've got her name and we're in the middle of finding where she lives. We just need a little…"
"Time? I've given you quite enough of that. God, how I wish he'd have just killed you as well when he had the chance…and by the time this is over, he'll be wishing the same. I'm only telling you this once more: find out who she is and when you do, I'll give you further instructions. Do not come back here until you do, or you'll regret it. Is that clear?"
"Yeah, boss. I've gotcha'. We're all over it," his henchman assured him, before hearing the line go dead.
"What a fuckin' asshole," the man muttered, shoving his phone back in his pocket.
"Are you guys sure we should be doing this?" Lita wondered, sitting with her three companions at the coffee shop they frequented, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor.
"What else can we do? They told us to keep doing what we normally do," Mina pointed out, "and we all have our phones in case she calls."
"Damn it, what if she doesn't ever call?" Lita said, her jaw clenching as she attempted to fight back her frustration.
"Lita, don't. You know they're doing all they can," Amy tried, her eyes glancing over to see Raye sitting with her head buried in her arms on the table. She'd been totally despondent since they'd left the police station, the raven haired girl blaming herself again and again for not accompanying Serena when she'd excused herself at the club.
"That may be, but it's not enough. And Darien hasn't been around since she disappeared, either. Doesn't anyone else think that's a bit strange? I mean, before he couldn't stay away…and now he's not around? God damn it," she ground out, her fist connecting hard with the table before her.
"They said he was a person of interest until they could prove otherwise. You know what? I think…no, I know he has something to do with this. I just hope they find out what before it's too late."
The lock clicked before the door swung open, the two men entering the apartment cautiously, one fumbling to find the light switch upon the wall. Flipping on the light, the two moved forth, determined to complete their mission. If not, there was no way they could again show their faces to their boss. He'd warned that he'd quite literally have their heads if they returned empty handed…something they would avoid at any cost.
After a quick scouting of the five rooms, they found the apartment to be empty, one of the intruders barking orders to the other.
"You take that room. You're the one that saw her, so what did she look like?" he demanded, his companion quick to respond.
"She's got long, light hair and she's kinda' small," he told him, cursing as he was smacked in the back of the head by his partner.
"Is that it?" he demanded, the angry answer soon to follow.
"Yeah, that's all. Shit, it was fuckin' dark out there, man! And that bastard was after me, so I didn't exactly have time to take a picture of her," the man grumbled, almost able to see the light bulb grow bright above his companion's head.
"You dumb fuck, that's it. There's gotta' be a picture of her somewhere in here. Go fuckin' find it…and hurry it up," he ordered, shoving his partner into the adjoining bedroom before stalking off into the other.
He spared no corner, his eyes tracing over the room before landing upon the pictures tacked to the corkboard on the wall. Moving closer, he saw several of a girl with long blond hair, his fingers removing one in order to scrutinize it further. She was flashing a brilliant smile at the camera, the man turning it over. A smile curved onto his lips as he read 'Serena, Summer in the Park' scribbled on the back. So this was their girl. He made his way back out into the living room, calling for his partner.
"Hey, dipshit! I've got it. Let's get the fuck outta' here," he called, the man soon emerging.
"Lemme' see," he said, the other man handing him the photo. A chuckle escaped him, the man nodding his head.
"Yeah, that's her. Damn, she's a hot little bitch, ain't she?" he noted, his companion snatching up the picture before he could manage to damage it.
"All the better. Boss is gonna' love breakin' her."
"Are you feeling ill?" came his question, Serena poking at her eggs as if they were roadkill on the plate before her. For some reason, she just wasn't that into the idea of eating at the time, having watched Darien inhale his food, the man now intent on downing the cup of black coffee in his hand.
"No, I'm good. I'm just not as hungry as my stomach announced I was, I suppose," she said, taking a sip of her orange juice. She had no clue how far from her home they actually were now, nor how much further they'd be driving until they at last reached their destination. Serena couldn't help but wonder how her family and friends were fairing in her absence…if they'd all lost it and gotten themselves arrested for verbally assaulting the entire police force yet. How on Earth was she supposed to explain her way out of this?
After things had blown over a bit, she'd have to let them know she was alright, and when she did, she had no clue as to what she could possibly say to cover for Darien, or to keep herself from being unceremoniously slaughtered. Perhaps, she thought, they'd be so happy she wasn't dead and buried in a shallow grave that they'd be satisfied with anything. She sighed again. Or not. No, she knew her people far too well for that. They'd be demanding answers and blood when they at last heard from her, and she was sure it wouldn't matter whose blood.
"You should eat. We've still got quite a long way to go," Darien pointed out, though she was simply unable to follow his advice. She was sure that if she attempted to shove anything else in her mouth that it'd do nothing but revisit her immediately thereafter.
"It's ok. I'll be fine," she assured him, managing to down the rest of her juice before he left a few bills on the table, getting to his feet soon afterward.
"Whatever you say. We should get going," he told her, feeling her small hand take hold of his. Despite the severity of their situation, calm seemed to wash over him as he led her back to his Jeep, her hand warm in his own, in stark contrast to the chill autumn air around them.
The engine roared to life as he prepared to cover the last leg of their trip, the man still concerned about his companion as she sat, staring silently out the window. He longed to ask her what was troubling her, though he knew the answer without uttering a word.
She swallowed hard, her stomach in absolute knots as she followed her savior into the rather intimidating looking building nestled in the heart of the foreign city she now found herself in.
"So…how far from home are we now?" she wondered, her jaw dropping as the answer was delivered.
"About 1,200 miles or so," he replied, the girl blinking as she tried to comprehend her own reality. Had they really come so far in the days since they'd made their exodus? The hours had all seemed to meld together since they'd managed to evade their pursuers, her mind having been in a haze for the entire while.
Now, it'd come time for her to meet the man Darien had spoken of, and she was on pins and needles as she stepped through the door he held open for her. He again took the lead, Serena following him down a short corridor that led into a large, open room. She was somewhat surprised to discover herself in a dimly lit bar, her eyes travelling over the empty tables and bar stools. It seemed as though they'd come before they'd opened, the girl nearly colliding into Darien's back as he stopped abruptly. She kept still, a strange voice soon spreading throughout the room.
"My God…am I seeing a ghost?" the man wondered, "because it's been so long since I heard from you that I was damn sure you'd finally been done in." Darien chuckled, Serena remaining still as their conversation continued.
"The world's not nearly so lucky. It's good to see you again, Sam," he said, the man known as Sam speaking once more.
"So…what brings you around? I thought you were doing fine where you were."
It was then that Darien moved aside, revealing the blond that had been hidden behind him, Sam becoming stone still. She stepped forward, Darien's hands at her waist as she took in the sight of the man behind the bar. There was nothing particularly significant about him, his long dark hair streaked with grey, his face beginning to show signs of his age. After recovering from his momentary shock, the man spoke.
"Explain to me what I'm seeing here," he asked, Serena feeling like some circus freak on display as Sam continued to look her over with apparent awe.
"We've got a bit of a mess on our hands," Darien told him, Sam at last snapping out of the momentary stupor the blond beauty before him had caused, the man stepping out from behind the bar. Unconsciously, Serena moved closer into her companion, his arm slipping about her as his old friend stopped just before them. In all the years he'd known the raven haired man, Sam couldn't recall a single moment that Darien had ever seemed so concerned for another human being, the protective nature she caused to spring forth from him more than obvious as the pair stood before him.
"I can only imagine," he said, his curiosity growing as the petite girl began chewing her lip nervously, the moments seeming to drag by. Realizing his rudeness, her eyes locked with his as he extended his hand, the girl hesitating only a moment before taking it. He shook it thoroughly, a grin spreading across his face.
"I'm Sam," he said, the girl offering a small smile in response.
"I'm Serena. Nice to meet you," she returned, the man at last releasing her in order to eye Darien once again.
"Likewise," he told her, before turning and motioning for them to follow him into the back. They did as he bade, Darien taking hold of his companion's hand as he led her into the adjoining room.
They each took a seat around the large round table there, Sam leaning forward on his elbows as he delivered his question. Darien had settled in next to Serena, his hand upon her thigh under the table, a small comfort in what was quite an unnerving situation for her.
"So, what exactly brings you two my way?" Sam wondered, Darien sighing mightily as he prepared to relay their tale.
The two rushed in, one of them still clutching the picture in his hand as they were granted an audience with the man that controlled their cash flow and most every other aspect of their lives, a scowl upon his face as they entered.
"Well?" he demanded, his arms crossed over his chest as he awaited an acceptable answer. These idiots had fouled up enough to last a lifetime, causing him to question why on Earth he'd not seen to replacing them sooner. Still, one had been a witness to what had occurred earlier that very week and was therefore not yet expendable.
"We found it," one of his henchmen declared, sheezy grins plastered upon both of their faces. Maddox sighed mightily, in no mood for guessing games.
"Found what, you imbecile?"
"This," he replied tersely, slapping the photo down upon the table, the light haired man leaning forward, his eyes tracing along the image of a very comely blond.
"You're sure this is her?" Maddox asked, the two both nodding zealously in response as he turned the picture over in his hand, reading what was scribbled on the back.
"Serena," he said, trying it out before a smile crept across his lips.
"So she's his weakness, is she? Well ,then. I'll be sure to show her quite the welcome when we find her."
By the time his explanation came to an end, Sam was sitting speechless, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of all the things that could have possibly occurred, never had he imagined that his former charge would have shown up with a girl in tow, and all in order to keep her sound. The Darien he'd always known had been cool and collected, always focusing on his goals and nothing else. Never had he shown any genuine interest in anyone before, not since his father had been killed.
That day changed him, turned him cold and had taken away what remained of his humanity…or so he'd thought. However, after only a few minutes of observing him as he sat next to the diminutive girl he'd stolen away, Sam realized that his former assumptions were no longer reasonable. This girl, it seemed, had done something incredible. She'd managed to break through the impenetrable fortress that he'd erected around himself, something Sam had thought no one would ever be able to accomplish.
With a mighty sigh, Sam allowed his gaze to linger upon her, noting how nervous she was as she sat close to her companion, her blue eyes at last rising to meet his. He was nearly struck dumb as he began to drown in them, immediately understanding why Darien had become so smitten with her. Not only was she beautiful, but her eyes were so deep that he swore he'd never be able to escape them.
"How long?" Sam asked, at last able to break himself free from the spell he'd momentarily fallen under.
"As long as it takes to remedy things, though I'll try not to burden you for very long," Darien replied, Serena still silent at his side.
"It's no trouble. It's actually good to see you after so long, though I wish it were under different circumstances. I'll do whatever I can to help you out, but we'll need a little time to get things in order. Until then, you two can lay low in one of the apartments on the east side," Sam told them, getting to his feet. Likewise, Darien rose, Serena soon to follow. Her stomach all in knots, she locked eyes with her consort before he ushered her out the door before him, his hands on her shoulders to guide her as she followed Sam into the unknown.
The blond looked around, her eyes taking the immaculate apartment in which she stood. It was furnished with the most modern of amenities, though the white walls caused the space to give off a rather cold vibe. It wasn't very inviting, though Serena realized that in their current situation, they couldn't be at all choosy when it came to their living situation.
Sam stood behind she and Darien, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the girl surveying the living space. He saw her turn to her consort, her hand clinging to his arm as he looked down at her.
"Is…isn't this a bit much?" she wondered, a smirk gracing Darien's lips.
"If you'd prefer, I could set you up in a fleabag on the south side," Sam interjected, the girl turning to him at last.
"Sorry. This…it's just more than I'm used to, I suppose. Thank you for doing this," Serena told him, the man offering her a smile.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. You two just lay low here for a while until we can figure out how we're going to handle things. You should get some rest. I know it's been a long drive and we have plenty of time to get acquainted later," Sam assured her, noticing as Darien's arm slipped around his companion's waist, his hand resting upon her stomach. Never had he thought anyone could bring out such a protective nature in the man standing before him, though seeing it being displayed was a bit endearing.
"Thank you for everything, Sam. It may take some time, but I'll find some way to repay you," Darien assured him, Sam shaking his head as a chuckle escaped him.
"That's just like you, but you know better. I don't expect you to repay me and you know it," Sam said, clapping is friend on the back before turning his attention back to Serena.
"Well, I'll leave you two be. Come see me when you're ready," he told him, turning and taking his leave, the door shutting softly behind him. Darien locked the door, a mighty sigh leaving him as he turned back to the girl who stood silently behind him. Her eyes locked with his, the man noticing how full they seemed, beginning to drown in them as was always the case whenever he looked into them.
His arms stretched out, Serena melting into them as he rested his chin on the top of her head. They stood unmoving for a time, the girl concentrating on the rhythm of his breathing, his chest rising and falling beneath her palms.
"How are you feeling?" he wondered, his hand brushing a long blond tendril from her face. Craning her neck, she caught his gaze once again before closing her eyes, his lips touching her forehead softly.
"Ok, I suppose. Still overwhelmed, but generally ok," she answered, soon following after him as he took her hand, leading her into the adjoining room. She took in the spacious bedroom, the wall painted a rich crimson, a dark spread covering the largest bed she'd ever seen. The few pieces of furniture dotting the room were quite modern in style, the black dresser and nightstand the only furnishings in the room besides the massive bed. The frame was crafted of wrought iron, a dark comforter covering it.
Serena looked up, her lips parting as his hands began disrobing her, leaving her feeling the same familiar heat beginning to creep throughout her body. She eyed him curiously after he'd succeeded in divesting her of her coat, then ushering her over to the large bed. He pulled down the comforter before taking hold of her shoulders, guiding her down until she sat upon the mattress.
"What's up?" she wondered, his damaged hand cupping her cheek.
"You need to sleep for a bit. I know how troubling this all must be for you and if you don't get some rest it's only going to be harder on you. I don't wish for you to become ill because of this," he answered, caressing her cheek before turning to go. She would have none of it, however, the girl's fingers gripping his coat sleeve tightly and thwarting his escape.
"And what about you? You didn't sleep any better than I did last night," she pointed out, still holding fast to his sleeve.
"I've things to discuss with Sam. I'll be close, so you don't have to be afraid. You'll be safe here, so please…get some rest," he tried again, though his lover had yet to be dissuaded.
"Can't your discussions wait for a bit? Darien, you've been driving for hours on hardly any sleep at all. I know you must be dead on your feet. Come here," she said, getting to her feet and pulling him closer. He watched silently as she removed his coat, the man kicking off his boots before allowing himself to be drawn down onto the mattress, Serena stretching out next to him.
"Stay with me," she asked, Darien unable to say no as his eye swept over her face, her eyes a bit hazy as he at last caught her gaze.
"That's entirely unfair. I look into those eyes of yours and there's no way I can refuse you," he said, sighing mightily as she tucked herself in against him, her head resting against his shoulder. His arms enveloped he small form, his lips touching her forehead before he leaned back against the pillow behind him, at last allowing himself a moment of peace.
"I know that feeling all too well," she told him, breathing in the warm scent of him, one she'd grown to adore in the short time she'd known him.
"You know…I don't regret anything," she said, "about you and I. You may think I'm crazy, but I feel like I was supposed to meet you, that I've spent a decent chunk of my life just waiting for you to show up."
She looked up, seeing the sad half smile that touched his lips. Pain shot through her, the sight heartbreaking despite her valiant efforts to keep herself collected.
"It pleases me to hear you say that, though I have no right to be," he told her, causing a heavy sigh to leave her.
It was then that she realized that his shirt was damp, the girl sitting up in order to inspect the cause. Her eyes grew wide as she took in the sight of the dark blood that had seeped through his bandages, her brows furrowing as she attempted to gather herself.
"You're bleeding again," she told him, her voice grave as she touched his bandage lightly, traces of red staining her fingertips.
"It's…" he began, only to be cut off abruptly.
"It's not fine, ok? Do you want to bleed to death or what?" she demanded, getting quickly to her feet before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom, reappearing soon afterward with full arms. She dumped her burdens on the bed, Darien sitting up in order for her to remove his shirt.
He winced despite himself as she unwrapped his soiled bandages, tossing them aside before pressing a damp towel against his silently weeping shoulder until the bleeding had ceased once more. Serena cringed as she observed his wound, one that she was sure needed stitches in order to heal properly, though her consort seemed hell bent on allowing it to continue to burden him. She bandaged him once more, ensuring his dressings were secure before beginning her argument.
"You need to get this taken care of, Darien. It's just going to keep doing this," she pointed out, shocked as he pulled her close against him, her palms resting against his bare chest as he gazed down upon her.
"Don't fret so much over it. I've survived worse," he assured her, though she remained unconvinced.
"You keep saying that, but I don't buy it. You were shot, you know. You aren't supposed to just keep going without any treatment after you get hit by a bullet."
"Fine. I'll have Sam see to it later if it will ease your mind," he promised, tilting her chin back before capturing her lips, the girl losing her breath to his kiss. She pulled back, still concerned for his well being.
"Don't. It may open up again," she told him, but to no avail.
"It's fine if it does. Right now, I just want you," he said, heat rising to her cheeks as his hands slipped beneath her shirt, touching the soft skin beneath. She was taken aback for a moment before her arms laced themselves around him, her head tilting back as his lips touched her throat softly.
"Talk about unfair," she managed, her eyes closing as she surrendered to his touch. She found herself on her back, his larger frame hovering over her, his hands working diligently to rid her of her attire. Her own small hands helped him shed his own clothing, the warmth of his naked skin soon meshing with her own beneath the covers, shutting out the chill around them.
His fingers trailed along her cheek, his lips descending upon hers as he kissed her breathless, her arms clinging to him with desperation. She felt her resolve slipping, her body responding wickedly to his ardent touch. He pulled back, his eyes taking all of her in, sweeping over her naked body as she lay spread out before him like some golden goddess.
"You're so beautiful," he nearly whispered, her body aching as his lips closed around one breast, desire building to an almost painful level as his skillful hands ran along her skin.
She found herself between his legs, her back resting against his chest as she leaned back, her hands on the tops of his thighs. Serena gasped as his fingers slipped between her thighs, stroking the pearl of her being slowly, her head tilting to the side as his lips touched the column of her neck. His hand kneaded her breast, her body aching for him, the girl wishing for nothing more than to always know the feeling of his torturous hands as they wreaked havoc upon her.
"Darien," she breathed, her body arching to meet his every touch, her fingernails digging into his flesh.
"That's it," he said, lips trailing along her naked skin, his fingers moving more quickly, drawing forth more sounds of pleasure from his lover. She felt so good under his hands, her body responding to his every move, her voice relaying her pleasure as he drove her further towards her end. He stroked her harder, his teeth raking along her shoulder, her body writhing before him until he at last pulled back, denying her what she so longed for.
"Darien?" she said, shocked as he laid her down before reaching into the pocket of his discarded pants. He dug around until he'd found what he'd sought, the man soon prepared to lay claim to his most precious treasure.
His body surged into her, her voice echoing throughout the room, her cries like pure bliss to him. He drove into her to the hilt again and again, her legs lacing over his shoulders, her hands gripping his arms tightly as he showed her the deepest realms of pleasure.
"Does that feel good?" he wondered, seeing the bliss wash across her face.
"Yeah. Don't stop," she asked, her body meeting his every stroke, his heat filling her completely as she felt herself nearing the end of all reason.
"Harder," she breathed, her voice crying his name as he did as she bade. He allowed himself to become utterly lost within her, her body like a warm tomb as he allowed himself to lose control. Darien heard his name, his lover chanting it like a sacred mantra, her body enveloping completely as he met his end. His body came to rest atop her, her arms holding him close as the two struggled to regain the breaths they'd been denied.
He left her for only a moment before gathering her in his arms, her small form huddled against him, his lips touching her forehead softly.
"Did I hurt you?" he wondered, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers. She looked up, her eyes still hazy as she kissed him.
"No, I'm fine. I'm so glad I met you," she said again, her arms holding him close as she sighed contentedly. Her head was spinning, the girl still unable to comprehend the situation she currently found herself in. The entire thing was pure madness, and yet she found herself at ease, for she knew that the man by her side would let no harm befall her. In his arms, she realized, was the safest place on Earth for her to be.
"Darien…I love you," she nearly whispered, tucked comfortably under his chin, the warmth of his body permeating her as she lay against him.
The sentiment both pleased and unnerved him, the man knowing that there was no turning back after all that had occurred. He hated himself for allowing things to come so far, though he knew full well that there was nothing he would trade for the time he'd been fortunate enough to spend with her. His selfishness ran deeply, Darien unable to stomach the thought of ever releasing her from the world she currently found herself stranded in. He wanted nothing more than for her to be happy and out of harm's way, though hearing her words only served to solidify the emotions he'd felt on her account since the day he'd first been granted the sight of her. So it was that the man found the words flowing forth for the first time in his entire life, his heart paining him as he spoke.
"I love you too, baby. I've never known what it feels like to love anyone, and yet, every time I look at you…every time I touch you, it nearly breaks me. I never want to let you go," he told her, feeling the wetness of her rogue tears as they touched his chest.
"Don't cry," he nearly begged, clearing her hair from her face as he attempted to console her. She looked up at him, his thumb brushing her tears from her cheek with care.
"I'm sorry. I just…I wish things were different. I wish there wasn't so much in the way. I'm so afraid I'll lose you," she admitted, closing her eyes as he kissed her with reverence.
"You'll never lose me. I swear I'll be with you, always," he told her, initiating another, more intense kiss, his greatest treasure soon lost to his touch once more.
Chapter 8, END! I guess this is progressing at a speed I'm ok with, but I STILL don't know where this fic is going. That's bad, isn't it? I'm trying to figure out which fics to put on the backburner while I finish the others, but I can't decide. What was I thinking, getting' in over my head like this? Six fics at once! I'm not that good, I tell you! ;P
Thanks for reading! You guys so rock. *nods*