A/N: Sailor Moon not mine.

When Forget Wouldn't Work Anymore


They met as young adults, both unsure if they wanted to flex their wings.

She was the quintessential blonde; blue eyed and sun-kissed hair. She had the disposition of an angel and the mischief of the devil, with her sweet smiles and her infectious laughter that always managed to touch those near her.

He was the classic male ideal; tall, dark , and handsome. His lips were sensual, but they rarely smiled, and the deep blue of his eyes were always shaded by shadows of his past.

Both claimed to hating each other at first sight.

"How could I not?" she asked her friends when they plagued her with their questions. "He is so annoying!"

"Please," he drawled to his best friend, as he cradled his hot coffee, the deep blue eyes void of emotion, "The girl is a classic ditz. Hardly worth my time."

He left first, fulfilling his dream to study in the most prestigious medical school in America.

While she stayed behind and was courted by a dashing young man, who was a member of a well known idol group.

In time, both forgot about those lazy afternoons and of the stinging remarks they gave each other.

They had flexed their wings and flown away.

Away from each other.

He claimed he could not recall the crystal blue of her eyes. Or that when he bought an engagement ring for his girlfriend, the reason he preferred the antique gold bands was merely because he thought it was a classic look and had nothing to do with the silken strands of hair a girl from his past used to have. And when his fiancé' dragged him to sophisticated art exhibits featuring a woman's beauty, he ignored the nagging thoughts of how once, not so long ago, he fought constantly with perfection.

She lived her life, hidden in the shadows, unsure as she played the role of a celebrity's darling. She told herself when she looked deep into the midnight blue eyes of her sexy crooner, that she remembered not another man who stared the same way every afternoon, inside a noisy arcade. When her hands raked her boyfriend's raven hair, she stilled the whispers of yesteryears, and forced herself to forget about the shock of midnight black bangs that hid a sarcastic look.

Forget became their best friend. Forget helped them be content with their present lives.

But then one day, he was feeling blue and decided to go to a quiet cafe hidden behind quaint lattices and ivy. He sat on one of the small bistro tables and ordered a cup of black coffee.

That was when he heard the sparkling laughter.

And though he forced forget to help him ignore the gay tone, he could not help himself as he turned around and searched the owner of the voice.

He saw crystal blue eyes and minted gold. He saw peaches and cream, and chocolate milkshakes. He saw an angel.

He saw afternoons spent in the arcade, of endless hours spent waiting for his nemesis to appear.

He saw an angel.

But she did not see him.

Instead, she left, in the arms of another, her young body wrapped in the protective embrace of a tall man with a long ponytail. She was smiling, not aware that the careful illusions of his life became undone in that hidden corner, in that quaint cafe, where there were lattices and ivy.

Days became months. Time weaved its magic and made childhood memories dim and unclear.

But not for him. For forget wouldn't work anymore.

Forget had failed him after all.




"You," she said, her voice a soft whisper, her small hands held limp by her sides.

"Me," he said, his eyes pleading, his breath ragged. He raked his hair with trembling fingers and forced himself calm.

She closed her eyes, as images of the past flashed before her. She saw a wad of paper, and flying shoes. She saw a white counter and the cup of steaming coffee that was always placed before the fourth stool. She saw and found, she did not forget, either.

Forget had failed her after all.

But she had a life far removed from those afternoons. She had a man who loved her with all his heart. She had everything.

"Please, don't do this to me," she said, as her crystal blue eyes filled with tears. "Oh, please, don't."

He did not answer her. He moved, instead, so that he was inches away, the warmth of his body making her dizzy. She swayed as his presence overwhelmed her and she couldn't stand anymore. Her knees buckled and she fell down.

His arms came around her. He cradled her to him, his heart beating fast.

She heard the heartbeats, but thought it was her own. Her tears fell, and she gave up the fight, acknowledging her loss.

"You," she whispered.

His lips found hers and he gave it a gentle brush, his hands wiped her tears as they continued to fall.

"Yes," he murmured against the crook of her neck as he bowed his head low, inhaling her scent. "Me."




They did not forget the pain they inflicted on other people.

Though she tried, she still saw the look of betrayal the handsome man had given her, the day she gave back the solitaire ring and whispered her goodbye. She tried to ignore his many love songs about a broken heart when the songs were played on the radio.

He held firm despite his girlfriend's pleading of taking another chance. He simply stood as she slapped him and called him every hurtful insult known to man. He accepted it all, for he knew he deserved it.

They could not ignore the look of disdain from old friends who did not understood how it came about. They tried and failed to befriend their former lovers.

And at night, as his arms came around her and they satisfied the cravings of their body, both knew they would do it again. In a heartbeat, they would hurt other people, defy those who care for them.

For forget wouldn't work anymore, to stop them from admitting that long ago, before forget, they fell in love and became each other's salvation.