A product of Insomnia

Standard Disclaimers Apply

A first attempt in writing a FoR fanfic.

Swimming in the Dead of Winter

- Oblivion

Kirisawa Fuuko stood on the balcony of the hotel and shivered. It was the coldest night of the year, well below freezing, and she was wearing a 'lil excuse of a dress, sexy strappy shoes and to top it all up - a bright fake smile to boot. She was dressed to impressed; to show the others that she wasn't just the cold office tyrant they made her out to be - but she was also perfectly capable of having fun and being sociable, yet still looking reliably gorgeous, that is, only when the occasion calls for it.

And impressed she definitely did. For over half of the male population in the room had been training their eyes on her, eyeing her every graceful move admiringly, since the moment she first entered the hall. The other half were either happily married, had overly jealous girlfriends who kept them on taut leashes or were simply not interested in females at all.

She shook her head politely and smiled apologetically at a potential suitor, seeking to coax her into joining him on the dance floor. Three consecutive crazed dances were enough for her. And she was lucky to have yet broken into sweat.

Well, at least she made three people feel like they were the luckiest men on earth tonight. She smirked smugly at the thought. Then completely ridding her self of that wicked smile, she replaced it instead with her infamous cold facade that immediately rendered her unapproachable and peerless. A sign so clear that she wanted to be left alone that not even an idiot would miss.

She easily sauntered her way to the bar, choosing to sit her cute rear down on an empty high stool, in the most isolated corner of the room, failing to detect the presence of a comely stranger, sitting gloomily in its darkness.

She eyed the pinned up menu pensively before casually fingering the bartender to come over. She made her order and was briefly informed that her choice was a personal favorite of the owner of the place himself. She smiled faintly in acknowledgement before letting her eyes stray and pretending to be lost in the occasion's rapture.

She turned her head back, once she sensed the coated jester leave. Shutting her eyes, she breathed out a languid sigh wishing her self away from the hub of all racket.

Her thoughts went back to her order. The cocktail was called Oblivion, which was just what she was after. All the merriment in the ambiance was spilling on her, making her feel overwhelmingly like a hypocrite by the second. She felt the need for a strong drink and Oblivion seemed to fit the bill nicely.

Then suddenly, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand, her pulse quickened and her limbs grew cold.

"Fuuko." A low husky voice, most distinctively male, called out softly from behind her.

Her eyes fluttered open. She knew that voice and vaguely to whom it belonged to. But never in her lifetime did she expect to hear it address her by her first name so affectionately.

She must be dreaming, she thought.