Disclaimer: As you all know, the mother of Skip Beat! is not an adolescent teen who lives a boring -yet busy- high school life.
Alibi: Forgive me to those who may have already read and/or reviewed this segment, however my younger sister had posted this as a new story without my consent and it had yet to be disclaimed and edited.
Chapter the First
It was a happy moment.
Both of them sitting side-by-side on that bench as she animatedly spoke about how happy she was to have made some more new friends in her latest drama. Her second romance since her debut from the President's "rehab for the love-less," better known as the Love-Me Section.
Caught in the la-la waves her small person was emitting, he happily responded that he was glad she was doing so well with her life, that if she ever needed any help she was always welcome to ask for his, and that he loved her.
Both of their eyes widened in shock.
The happy atmosphere crashed around them and fell to pieces.
Time was still for a matter of thirteen seconds.
She stood up and looked at him.
And she was not only shocked; she was shaking her head in denial.
No, wait! He'd said that on accident!
She was backing away.
He hadn't meant to say it!
She was going to run away.
But, no! He did mean it!
There was no doubt that her mind was suddenly thrown into confusion and working in overdrive.
Panic overtook him and before he knew it, he had grabbed her wrist and pulled her against his body into an embrace.
And he held on, as her small lithe frame encaged within his arms seemed so fragile at the frozen moment.
A hand upon her lower back, and a hand upon the back of her head, he thought it was a coincidental yet adorable trait of hers that she fit so easily to him.
They were both shaking.
Her; from this sudden display of affection, need, weakness, and possession from the man who she saw as a calm, imposing, adored and wanted actor of Japan.
Him; from fright of possibly being rejected and erased from the memory of the one woman who held his entire being within her small, beautiful, delicate hands.
She had had it for so many months now; it being almost near two and-a-half years since they met again after ten years of mortal loneliness.
And the irony of it all was that she still didn't even realize it.
She even knew everything about him now, she knew more about him than his parents, more than his fans and Yashiro, more than even the president.
Everything about him she knew: his name, his identity, his faults and weaknesses.
The only thing she didn't know was how important she truly was to him.
She didn't realize that she was his world.
He could feel her hands on his chest, feebly trying to push herself free, trying to push him away.
He only held her closer.
She was whimpering.
Gently he whispered into her ear, causing her to cease her half-hearted trembling.
"I'm not sorry, I'm not joking. Please, give me a chance." With that said, he gave her a chaste, lingering kiss upon her left cheek. Then softly, slowly, he let her go; careful to hide the raw pain, fear, and weakness he was feeling.
She took two steps back, her head bowed, her bangs covering whatever feelings her golden eyes were showing.
Minutes passed as each of them stood there facing each other, neither making a move, and neither making a sound.
Then, carefully she bowed to him, said she looked forward to the shoot they would have together tomorrow, and left.
And suddenly a dull pain resided deep within his chest, seeming to have a beat rhythm.
Please, criticisms and/or simple reviews are welcomed. -- L~PE