"Chocolate milk, miss?"
"That would be correct."
"Are you sure you don't want a glass of wine? Champagne, perhaps?"
"No, chocolate milk is fine."
"Really, miss? I assure you we only serve the best –"
"And what we want is some of your best chocolate milk with our salad and ribs. Alright?"
The waiter cowered slightly under Sakura's glare, nodded once and rushed away after quickly replying, "Right away, miss."
"I don't understand why that keeps happening," Sakura remarked to Syaoran, who was sitting across from her, looking at her amusedly. "We want chocolate milk. How hard is it to understand?"
"Actually, I was planning on celebrating our anniversary with champagne, but you shot me down –"
"Stop trying to be a traditional romantic, I know you secretly wanted chocolate milk too."
Syaoran and Sakura lapsed into a comfortable silence, both taking in their glamorous surroundings. For their third anniversary they decided to go to one of the fanciest French restaurants in the city – they had read a superb review about its wonderful service, its breathtaking view, and excellent cuisine … no wonder the waiter hesitated, chocolate milk seemed rather out of place.
"This is pretty different from our last two celebrations," Syaoran started, frowning slightly. "It feels kind of weird."
"The one where you decided to make the chocolate milk yourself was a complete disaster," Sakura remarked.
Her boyfriend huffed. "That was not my fault," he scowled defensively. "There was an emergency meeting at the company and we ran out of tea and coffee for reasons that I have yet to understand, so they broke into my refrigerator and stole all the milk that I was planning to use that night."
Sakura grinded her teeth at the thought, clutching her glass tightly. "The nerve of them."
"They laughed when I shouted at them."
"They didn't even shake the milk well before pouring."
"Shame on them!"
"And worst of all …" Syaoran screwed up his face from the memory, "they gave me a bottle of champagne to make it up."
"You should've slapped them."
"I should have, shouldn't I?"
"… seriously though, no matter what, never make your own."
"I thought I was rather clever."
"Says the boy who names his toes after Lord of the Rings characters," Sakura mumbled, rolling her eyes. "We're out of water. Where is that waiter with my chocolate milk?"
Syaoran got defensive once again. "It was a Lord of the Rings phase I was going through!"
"I love the books too, but you don't see me screaming 'OW, PIPPIN! FRODO!' when someone steps on my shoe. Do you name your butt cheeks after Harry and Ron?"
Syaoran guffawed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Naming butt cheeks after Harry Potter? How stupid, don't be silly!"
Right, because naming your toes after Lord of the Rings characters is a lot smarter.
Sakura chose to ignore his comment and continued. "Your first attempt at making chocolate milk was cute," she commented, remembering the chunk of dark chocolate soaking in a glass of regular milk, "but the second was just embarrassing."
"Like I said, I thought it was rather well thought out."
She looked at him over her glass of water, dumbfounded. "Syaoran, when you were finished, the kitchen was covered in chocolate. I knew you didn't make those cookies you gave me in junior high!"
"… that wasn't my fault."
"Of course it wasn't," she commented dryly. "I'm just glad you learned your lesson. Never throw a slab of chocolate into a pan and set it on fire."
"I was trying to melt it!"
"You could've turned on the gas and kindled the fire under the pan, not on it."
"I like matches," Syaoran said stupidly, which made Sakura snort.
"And I still don't understand why you added alcohol to it. It was supposed to be chocolate milk, wasn't it?"
"I was trying to be creative!" he huffed. "Jamie Oliver said cooking is about feeling and tasting and going with your instincts."
"Feeling and tasting and going with your instincts does not mean blowing up chocolate bars in your girlfriend's apartment."
"I – you – oh look the chocolate milk's here!" Syaoran spotted their waiter coming towards them, frantically waved his arms around, knocking over a passer-by in doing so.
"Good!" Sakura beamed, completely forgetting their conversation. "Gimme!" She grabbed the carton from the apprehensive waiter's hands, shook it, and poured the contents into their champagne flutes. The people sitting near their table looked on amusedly.
"Would you two like anything else?" the waiter asked politely, while questions like 'WHY?' and 'WHAT'S NEXT, WASABI ON TOAST?' ran through his mind.
"Another carton, please," Sakura beamed at him before chugging down almost all of the contents in her glass.
The waiter nodded curtly and scrambled away without a word.
"Now, this time," Syaoran started, "I think we should set some ground rules."
"On the chocolate milk."
"Oh, no," Sakura groaned, closing her eyes. "Please tell me you didn't bring –"
"Aragon? Why yes, yes I did," Syaoran grinned, whipping out a small silver ruler with a flourish.
"… Aragon? Seriously, Syaoran, Aragon?"
"It was a phase, Sakura, how many times do I have to tell you –"
"I don't care what name it is," she cut him off, waving her hand offhandedly as Syaoran looked at her, highly insulted. "I'm not letting you use it –"
"– to measure the amount we'll be having with each glass to 'make it fair,'" Sakura ignored him, pouring another glass for herself. "First come, first serve!"
Syaoran looked at her, appalled. "So you're going to try and drink as much as you can, is that right?"
"Hmmm … yes."
"But that's not fair!"
"Suck it up."
Before Sakura could grab the carton again Syaoran snatched it away from her, grinning in triumph. Before he could say anything, however, a waitress came up to them and said snootily, "I hope you two aren't planning a food fight in the middle of our five-star restaurant?"
"Of course not," Sakura snorted. "Do we look like five-year-olds to you?"
She looked at their milk carton and champagne flutes filled with chocolate milk and sniffed. "I wouldn't be so sure."
"Mind your own business," Syaoran glared at her.
"I would," she retorted, looking down on them as a principal would do to pupils, "but that tablecloth cost us several thousand yen, and I'd like to say that those glasses you're holding don't exactly come from marketplaces either, it cost about five –"
"Go away," Sakura interrupted her, looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "Please."
The waitress hesitated and a slightly awkward silence followed, but it was cut short by her continuing, "I'd also like to remind you you're surrounded by people of the upper class, and I assure you, their suits and gowns are probably worth more than your apartments cost –"
"Go away," Syaoran growled but looked on amusedly, it was obvious this girl had no clue who she was talking to.
"I'm just saying, if a fight broke out between the both of you, you two would be in a lot of debt, and I don't think it's worth it over a carton of chocolate milk –"
"Excuse me?" Sakura spluttered out, now glowering at the waitress. "Not worth it?"
The girl rambled on stupidly, immune to the death glares shooting her way, "Well, yes. It's only chocolate milk."
Her statement was only followed by a stunned silence. It was only broken after Syaoran screamed out, "LEGOLAS! THEODEN!" before diving down, clutching his feet in agony where Sakura apparently stomped on in anger and shock.
"On … only chocolate milk?" she repeated, her voice raising an octave higher.
Syaoran emerged from under the table, cursing. But he looked equally affronted – or maybe his face was only screwed up in agony – before trying to keep his voice calm, "I'm going to say this in the nicest way I can …" he growled at the waitress, "… can you please –"
"– GET THE F –"
"According to Aragon, you now owe me two centimeters of chocolate milk."
"Syaoran, please don't bring that up right now."
Syaoran opened his mouth to retort, but decided against it and kept himself quiet. He looked at his girlfriend who sat on by his side, their surroundings completely changed – they now sat at a booth in an ever-so classy fast-food restaurant.
"If it's any consolation, I think you did a marvelous job at punching the girl's eye."
Despite her miserable state, the corners of Sakura's mouth lifted and she grinned. "I hope she gets a black eye."
"And maybe blinded her in the process," he agreed. "Now everyone knows they shouldn't mess with us when it comes to chocolate milk."
Sakura nodded in agreement but touched her hair lightly. "I can't believe she had the nerve to pull my hair though," she pouted, grimacing at the memory. "Thanks for pulling her off of me."
"I'm sorry she bruised your cheek though."
"I couldn't fought her off," Syaoran glared at her, reading her mind, judging by her face which couldn't keep a knowing smile from escaping, "I really could've! But the two cartons of chocolate milk needed my protection, who knows what would've happened if I hadn't snatched them away from harm's way?"
"Yeah, about that," Sakura frowned, looking at the aforementioned drinks on the table, "do you think they'll track us down for not paying those?"
"Sakura, we just gave them a check that could feed a small African country," Syaoran looked at her, eyebrows raised. "I don't think they care too much about two cartons of milk."
Syaoran poured him another two centimeters of chocolate milk.
"Will we ever have a nice, normal anniversary dinner?"
Syaoran swirled his straw around his drink, thinking. "That was rather normal to me."
Looking at him oddly, Sakura snorted. "Compared to what?"
"I don't know why we went their in the first place anyway," Syaoran replied. "I thought snuggling under a blanket watching a movie would be nice. A lovely, bruise-free night."
"You're such a girl."
"My beautiful cheek!" he sobbed, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the window beside him. "My gorgeous, chiseled face!"
Sakura rolled her eyes helplessly.
"Since you were the one who dragged me all the way over there and made one side of my face puff up like a puffer fish, I think you owe me," Syaoran stated, giving her a mischievous look.
She noticed this and said worriedly, "If this is some sort of kinky sex act you want me to do, then you can forget it –"
"Give me your chocolate milk."
"Hand it over, POP."
"Get your own!" Sakura hugged the drink to her chest protectively.
"You literally bruised my face, the least you can do is hand over my favorite drink in the whole wide world –"
"Why do you like chocolate milk?"
"What?" Syaoran looked at her suddenly thoughtful face.
"Why do you like it so much?"
Syaoran laughed, running his fingers through his hair. "You make it sound like I like it too much –"
"You once tried to call the police when they ran out of it in the supermarket."
"I did not –"
"You didn't, because I took the phone away from you before you could dial anything," Sakura shook her head and laughed. "That would've been embarrassing!"
"Look who's talking," he shot back. "You didn't even know who I was calling. You took it away to phone Tomoyo and Eriol to see if they had any cartons left."
"You were grateful."
"So why do you like it so much?"
"What's not to like?"
Syaoran looked at her and tapped his chin, thinking. "I like the taste," he finally said. "It tastes like chocolate."
He ignored her sarcastic tone. "I like the color," he added. "And I like the little cow-shaped chocolate on the cartons they come in."
Sakura snorted a little before sipping her glass.
"I like the cold feeling you get when it goes down your throat," Syaoran shrugged. "And I also like how it sort of got you and me together."
This wasn't an answer Sakura expected. She felt shy all of a sudden, touched. "Tomoyo sort of said the same thing," she smiled. "She said it was amazing, the power of chocolate milk."
"I don't think Touya agreed."
"No," Sakura agreed. "He laughed and remarked how stupid it was, didn't he?"
"Before threatening me to 'treat his baby sister well,' yes, I remember," Syaoran shook his head in disbelief. "What about you?"
"What about me what?"
"Why do you like chocolate milk?"
"Oh," Sakura shrugged, looking down at her glass. "All the reasons you mentioned, I guess."
"So you like the taste?"
"You like the color?"
"You like the cow-shaped chocolates?"
"Not really, no. They look like rabbit droppings to me."
"You like the cold feeling you get?"
"And you like how it got us together?"
"Or is it because it had nothing to do with the milk, was it because you couldn't resist my dazzling good looks and charm?"
"Don't flatter yourself."
Syaoran grinned and leaned close to her face, his lips inches away from hers. "You were only looking for a reason to be with me, weren't you?"
Sakura flushed pink, slightly embarrassed now that he had found out. "Even if I said no," she said, glancing down at his mouth, "you'd still think so, so what's the point?"
"That's a yes, isn't it?" he grinned triumphantly before catching her lips with his.
"… I still like the cold feeling in my throat more," Sakura said as he leaned back, breaking off the kiss. "Nothing beats that."
Syaoran frowned and scooted closer to her. "I guess I'll have to find a way to change that," he said firmly before leaning in and giving her a kiss that made her toes curl in pleasure, tasting the chocolate milk in her lips.
"Sakura," he broke off again, wincing slightly. "You just stepped on Arwen."
Two years ago when I wrote this, I was definitely not expecting to get nearly 60 reviews on this one-shot.
So as a little thank-you present and taking up the requests on making a sequel, I give you this chapter. It's a lot more different than the last one, I think – it's been a few years, they've grown up, and they're more mature.
… in Syaoran and Sakura-standards, anyway, haha.
I tried to keep it short and sweet.
Again, thanks for all the reviews – keep 'em coming!
(Check my profile for updates on my other stories.)