A/N: This is for a writing challenge, I'm not sure it's going to go anywhere, but I suppose that all depends on your reaction to it. I wanted it to have more of an American feel and it's completely AU. Some of the things in here your going to be like 'WTF?' but I promise it was all apart the challenge and had to be included. I just wanted to see if I could really pull it off and it was something to do while I attempt to cook up a sequel to 'When It's Easier to Forget'.
Disclaimer: I don't own DNAngel.
Have you ever heard of serendipity, meetings of predetermination or destiny? Is it possible to believe that every person we meet we are bound to by a thin strand of fate? Maybe this is the answer to so many's question of why things that are so wrong feel so right, and how two people who seem completely opposite in every way can fall madly in love.
The small bell in the corner of the doorway chimed as I pushed open the glass door with my shoulder and staggered in with a plastic basket full of laundry. Relieving myself of the heavy burden dragging down my arms, I rested it ontop of the machine next to the one I intended to use and began sorting through the load.
The mat was pretty much vacant, which fortunately almost garunteed me a peaceful wait. I needed it because my mood was a bit gloomy and despite the mocking of the perfect day outside, inside I felt grey. A small television mounted in the corner of the room displayed the local news above a wall lined with vending machines. A colored man sat in a chair across the room from me, flipping through his newspaper as his clothes tumbled dry. Abruptly, the bell rang from behind and I glanced over my shoulder to see a young man stroll in bearing a white garbage sack overflowing with dirty laundry.
Returning my attention to my own pile of unclean clothing pending wash, I began tossing them into the machine. The man was now occupying the machine next to me and it was only a moments pass before I felt an unwelcome tap on my shoulder.
"I'm emabarassed to ask you this," he smiled rubbing the back of his neck, "but can I borrow some change for the machine?"
I paused, an article of clothing still in hand and turned to him skeptically. He was a couple of inches taller than me, lean with a thin frame and an untamed length of violet hair. He might have been a year or so older than me. His handsome face was flawless, topped with narrow eyes and a lady-killing grin. I instantly disliked him.
"Are you serious?"
"Oh come on," he pleaded with glossy, amethyst, puppy dog eyes that would have made Risa bawl.
"I'm in dire need here- out of underwear," he smirked pointing to the garment in my hand.
Blushing furiously, I peered down at the pair of laced, hot pink panties dangling from my fingertips. Dropping them immediately, I jamed my hands in my pockets and scavanged for change. Upon finding the coins I tossed them to him nervously and fixated on my own cleaning duties.
Once my cheeks regained their normal color, I glanced over to the man who was carelessly throwing his clothes into the washing machine. He slid his black tee shirt over his head, sniffed it, then tossed it in with the rest -what mannerism. After adding the detergent, he slammed the lid and hopped on top of the machine- ignoring the "Please, don't sit on the machines" sign.
And depsite my immediate annoyance of him, my eyes found their way wandering up his toned chest. They drank in every defined line and up, then down movement of his breath. As much as he got under my skin he was still the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.
"Like what you see?" he smirked. "What's you name cutie?"
"Why should I tell you, creep."
"Hey, no need for name calling."
"You started it," I retorted.
"Alright," he threw his hands up in a surrendering notion, "you have a point."
"Riku Harada," I answered, shutting the lid on my own machine.
"Cute name. Dark Mousy here."
Mad enough that the stranger now knew my name, I stomped over to an empty seat across from the machines and plopped down. Deciding that I had no desire
what-so-ever to carry on a conversastion with this man and with doubts that anything he had to say could possibly be intellegent, I picked up a magazine and began flipping away. It was a baby magazine, which was perfect because I needed to studying.
My twin sister Risa would be having a baby soon. In my opinion, giving birth to a child at 22 is far too young. Doesn't she realize how much of her prime she is going to miss out on because she chasing after a drooling tot? Don't get me wrong, I love kids and this is probably the best thing for Risa. My sister was always the queen of popularity and married the king right out of highschool. And now Mr. and Mrs. Azumano Highschool are expecting, but Risa was always the susy homemaker type anyhow. I couldn't see her having a real career, but then again I'm one to talk.
See the reason I was going to having to know everything there was to know about bringing a child into the world within the spand of 3 months was because Risa was actually expecting me to be the midwife. She hates hospitals and in her head she thinks it's all a big conspiracy, that they will take her beautiful baby or mix it up with another. Too many lifetime movies, if you ask me. I went to nursing school for a while, but eventually dropped out because I didn't think I could make it. Well now I'm a P.E. coach at Azumano Middle School, suits me no? I was always a tomboy and an underachiever.
Sighing boredly at the countless pages of smiling babies and mothers, I peered over the top of the magazine at Dark. He was still perched a top of the washing machine as it roared beneath him. He had a set of head phones on, bobbing his head as the cord connecting them and the MP3 player in his pocket swayed. My eyebrow twitched as I notice his exceptionally unrhythmic tapping on the side of the machine.
"Could you not do that?" I called politely.
His eyes shot open as removed his head gear, "I'm sorry what?"
"Could you please stop that tapping?"
"Oh, sure," he smiled, " I just really get into the music, you know."
"Hmm," I mused. I didn't really listen to music that much.
"Expecting a bundle of joy?" he asked curiously, gesturing to the article in my hand.
"Too bad you would have made an excellent mother," he smirked.
"My sister's the one having the baby!" I fumed.
His smirk widened as a playful light danced across his eyes, obviously relishing in my frustration. "You're so cute when your mad."
A deep chuckled rumbled in his throat. "Maybe one day I can have my wish and you can have my baby."
The fuse had been lit. "PERVERT!" I shouted hurling the magazine into his face, startling the old man at the other end of the building.
"I was just kidding."
You're so immature," I heaved.
"I'm immature?" he pointed to himself. "I'm not the one throwing temper tantrums."
"You're right," I sighed, regaining compuser," and I'm going to be the grown up now and end this."
"Aw, you're no fun," he winked, sticking his tounge out.
Ignoring him, I strolled over to machine just as the cycle ended. Removing sopping handfuls of clothing from the washer, I tossed them into the basket and continued to the wall of steel dryers. His eyes followed me blankly as I moved from one end of the room to another, and if I didn't know any better I could have swore I saw his lips pout.
The remainder of my visit at the laundry was pretty much lived out in peace. The room was silent, all but the low murmur of the T.V. and the ticking hands of the clock hanging on the wall. I occupied my time by staring at the endless tumbles of the dryer in a trance-like daze. Dark ambled over to the snack machine to once to withdraw a box of pocky. As he slid the coins into the slot, I tossed him an angry glare.
"You had money!"
"I just wanted an excuse to talk to you," he offered me a lopsided grin.
Shoving a chocolate covered stick in his mouth, he shifted back to his seat.
And then it came! The sweet buzz announcing that the machine's job was done, I had been longing to hear it for sometime now. My hands worked swiftly to remove the clothes and fold them into neat piles back into the basket. Lifting it up, I headed for the door and just as I was about to push it open with my foot, I heard the last thing I wanted to hear.
"See you around, cutie."
"See you, Mr. Mousy," I peered over my shoulder and smiled.
Why did I do that?
And even though it would seem so easy to round it off as one of the worst days of my life, I left that luandry mat feeling alot brighter than when I had walked in. Maybe in his own odd way he had sensed my unhappiness and his teasing was a twisted way to cheer me up. It was a reasonable explanation, why else would you just randomly reach out to a stranger? Than again I'm probably giving him too much credit. Maybe it was fate. Also a reasonable explanation considering the events that followed...
a/n: And there you have it! It's a little different from me I know. It was hard getting into Riku's head, but 1st POV seemed more fitting then 3rd.