Disclaimer: me no own.

A/N: probably the heaviest stuff I'll ever write. There is lime (nothing too heavy, its within PG13 range), you have been warned.

Games That You Play

Black waves crashed on the sand as the navy clouds rolled over the skies. Birds cried out in the midst of the deafening silence. The wind was howling and the air crept hauntingly closer to Sango. Sango stared lazily at the horizon, her eyelids drooped. Her feet was dangling over the pier, wading in the freezing ocean, her hands propped back as her head leaned back to enjoy the salty ocean air.

She wanted to forget. Forget everything that clouded her mind and bound her down. Forget the lingering sensations that rendered her speechless whenever he looked at her with those eyes. Those eyes, pools so deep she would voluntarily drown in. She let out a bitter laugh, scorning at herself at how weak she felt. She was weak, vulnerable, and her heart ached with a pain that felt good at the moment.

The wind played with her hair, and the sun was barely visible over that strip of horizon. The dock was deserted except for a few people tying their ships onto the pier. She withdrew her feet from the water and spread her body on the floating wooden boards. She could hear the ocean sloshing beneath her, all in tranquility was her state of mind.

Her life was fraying apart, like a shoestring. No matter how she tried to keep it together, it just fell apart. Nothing lasted with her. Everyone called her the silent warrior; someone too cold and independent to go near. If only they gave her a chance. Her brother was now old enough and need not to depend on her. If only she cherished the time they spent during his childhood. Her friends were too caught up in their own romantic lives to pay any heed to her. If only she had a soul mate.

She did not believe if soul mates anyways. It was a one in a million draw, and her luck was never good. Thinking of soul mates would only bring back memories if him. Everyone had gone to their own paths, scribbling in each other's yearbooks of vain attempts to always stick together. He, unlike the others, had kept his promise and they continually met up.

They were friends. No, even closer. In a biting distance so close, yet she was two inches short of reach. Not even two inches. But he too, left her. It didn't happen just one day. In a slow painful time of one year, his calls were shorter and rarer. Talks had slowly become more of a pleasantry, and soon he never called. The occasional postcard and Christmas card did not compensate for his absence but only made her long for him more.

She hated him. She hated how he would play with her, tease her, and end it with "you're the best friend I could ever ask for." Friend and nothing more. She frowned and stared at the sky. The first star was appearing. It was not smart of her to stay out so late. It was a very shady neighborhood and who knows what could happen to a girl out alone at night.

Sango shut her eyes tight, remembering the way he stroke the outline of her jaw, and left kisses in places she never knew were so sensitive. Their breath quickening, and the silent moaning against his shoulder. She hated him. And here she was now. She hadn't seen him for three years. Best friends can become strangers.

She heard footsteps behind coming closer to her. Sango quickly sat up and looked around. In the fast coming night, someone was approaching her. In the creeping dark, she could see it was a man, tall, handsome with a haunting smile. Her flimsy tanktop etched the shape of her body. Goosebumps rippled through her, and she was sure it wasn't just because of the cold night.

"Miroku," she murmured thickly. "Yes?" he replied. It was him. Of all times, of all places she imagined, here was not where she wanted. She let out a laugh, but sounded like contained puff of breath let out; an impression of a laugh. He kneeled beside her with concerning eyes.

"Miroku," she repeated staring at him. She wanted to forget about him, and he reappears now. She wanted nothing more but to forget everything. 'What do you want?' she wanted to ask. But instead it came out "What do I want?"

He smiled coolly and replied, "I know what you want." Sango drooped her eyes and leaned closer to him, giving him a gracious look down her, if he wanted to. "What do I want them?" she replied, daring him to answer.

Miroku gulped, his mouth ran dry. His black shirt clinging close, and he stiffened feeling Sango's fingers tracing the buttons. Pushing instincts aside, his lips brushed by her ear. "Me." he said huskily. He pushed her down on the wooden boards, his legs on either side of her hip straddling. He leaned close, his breath hot on her face. Sango's eyes glazed over and wanted to push him off, but he held her still.

He traced the outline of her jaw, from the ear all the way to the chin, slow kisses etched down the side of her neck. He lingered at the nape of her neck, where she was most sensitive, and he felt her body shivered under him. He could feel his heart throbbing. Down to the shoulder blades. Sango closed her eyes, trying to focus on the lips slipping around her bare skin and the heat of his body.

"Miroku," she breathed heavily. Her fingers ran through his hair. She had longed for this for so long. It didn't feel right. This was like a dream out of a book. A stranger from the past re-emerging and kissed her senseless. This wasn't right.


Miroku's stopped moving and stopped his hand from sliding down the strap of the tanktop. "Why," he demanded. His hair was disarrayed, and his body felt hot. Adrenaline was pumping through his blood and his hands ached to keep going.

"You never minded before," he bit out. Sango blinked and pushed him off. With as much dignity, she walked away to her car.

These games were never fair.

Miroku quickly walked after her and wrapped his arms around her body. She tensed, her back touching his chest. Once more, Sango tried to resist the temptation but her body reacted otherwise. She leaned her head back as he implanted teasing kisses between her neck and shoulder.

It was all a blur. Heat and lust rolled together, and she could not recall how they got from leaning against her car to now her back lying on the backseat.

Her lips met his in a kiss. It was long, passionate and demanding. His hands fumbled underneath her shirt, her skin fresh on his hands. He slowly traced the outline of her body, trails of sweat teasing her body. She arched forward, longing for more. His hands brushed by her breast, a quiet whimper escaped from Sango.

Her hands fumbled at the belt buckle. "Say it," he whispered. Sango's body was weak, aching, yet her mind was stubborn. "No," she said hoarsely. Miroku smirked at her familiar stubbornness. His tongue traced the outline of her tanktop, making sure each slow moment was savored. His cold hand found warmth between the softness of her leg.

Sango shuddered as the cold hand made small circles on her leg. He was prodding gently, and much like him, teasing, toying, urging her. Miroku moved down, tasting the musky scent under the skirt. His tongue running up the leg to her thigh. "Please," she said barely audible. No sooner, clothes were flying off and they found themselves in each other's naked rendezvous.

& & & & & &

The window was fogged up as morning barely woke up. Miroku held Sango, as they both cradled in the cramped backseat. The aroma of sex lingered, as he inhaled deeply in her neck.

"Sango," he said huskily. She didn't move.

He buckled his pants and threw on the shirt so he looked decent and got out of the car. The cool air rushed through him. Today was the day he'd tell her. Last night he tried, but certain things happened that distracted him from telling her.

Sango blinked when she felt the heat move away from her. Last night rolled through her mind, like a film without sound. She was desperate, and so was he. It was like an escapade from a romance novel. Like a game, he cheated and moved silently unnoticed. She fell into temptation to play again. She sat up, and looked at Miroku. He had something to say.

"Where are you going?" she said, her voice hoarse from screaming his name.

Miroku fidgeted with the buttons on his shirt, his eyes focused on anywhere but her. "I'm going to the church. I'm getting married." With a faint goodbye, he walked out into the thick morning fog, vanishing from view, vanishing from her life.

The games that you play kill me.