Love Doesn't Have A Price


It was snowing. Little white flakes glistening in the sky dropped to cover the already quilted ground. Sakura watched them with a smile, relief playing heavily in her mind.

Filming was finally over. In fact she would be glad if she never had to film anything again. Putting your tongue down someone else's throat for the sake of art was not the ideal job for Sakura. Especially since it wasn't the person she loved.

Yeah, she loved him. She could admit to that much now.

Tugging on the ends of her sleeves – a nervous habit she'd formed when she was younger – Sakura walked back to her caravan, taking one last look inside.

Nostalgia was taking over. Shutting the door quickly to bid the melancholy out of her system before turning around. The sight that met her then was definitely not what she had expected.

Standing in a boyish pose with his hands thrust into his pockets and his eyes seeking the ground at her feet was Li Syaoran, the man who she still loved, and who was still very much her husband.

She was confused, and she was sure that it showed plainly on her face. Syaoran wasn't looking at her face however, his eyes still hovered on the ground at her feet.

They stood like that in silence for the next few minutes before Sakura finally broke. "Syaoran, why are you here?"

She'd meant for the question to sound harsh, judging, she didn't want him to know that she still loved him. Love lead to forgiveness.

As if mocking her, the words had come out gently, accepting. His eyes looked up, caught hers and held them. His were unreadable and she hated that, because she was as open as a book.

"Syaoran." This came out a little firmer, and the sound strengthened her resolve.

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I really screwed this up, didn't I?"

Her fingers had left her sleeves and found her wedding ring now and were twirling it around her finger anxiously.

He started to take a step forward but then seemed to think better of it. His eyes showed resolve now.

"Three years ago I was engaged to a model," he said softly, "Her name was Aiko."

Sakura didn't say anything. She just watched him.

"I loved her and I thought that she loved me," He continued. "A week before the wedding I came home early to surprise her – and found her in bed with another man." His voice hardened. "I knew that she'd been sleeping around since the beginning, but without the solid proof I'd allowed myself to pretend that it wasn't happening. After that I promised myself never to get involved with models again and never to believe women."

He sighed, "I was used to being used Sakura, and even though you were different I didn't want to believe again."

He was looking at her now, eyes begging forgiveness.

At some point while he'd been speaking Sakura had looked at the ground. Maybe to get away from his eyes, she wasn't sure what she would find there. Now she looked up meeting his eyes.

"It doesn't make everything right." The reply was slow and soft.

"I know."

"What do you want Syaoran?" she asked weakly.

"You." The response was automatic.

It was almost enough to sway her. Almost.

"There's nothing I can do to change the past Sakura. All I can do is work at the future."

"And if there's no future left for us?"

When he didn't reply she continued. "Can you promise that you'll be able to set aside your past and trust me."


The breath she hadn't realised she was holding released in a rush. Disappointment filtered through. So it was really over.

"But I can promise to try."

A slow smile spread across her features, warming her instantly.

"I think I can live with that."
The resounding grin was worth her setting aside any qualms she'd had about agreeing. In one swift movement Syaoran had pulled her to him, his mouth latching onto hers.

She laughed and met his mouth with her own, pulling away and smiling at him. It wasn't perfect. Not yet. But it was something that she could live with.



Ah the sap. Kill me.

First story I've ever written that has finished with a happy ending. As of this moment this story is finished. Over. Never to be returned to. There will be no more.

EDIT - Maya the greedy loser who has struck nearly all of my stories again wants to be acknowledged. This time for having pointed out that snow was white... and fluffy.