Dream a little dream of her never came, a month of nothing but bleakness as he closed his eyes consumed him… gods, it killed him each time he woke up without her. Without seeing her, how could it affect him so? Why didn't she come? It wasn't simple but it was grand, it wasn't a relationship but he didn't want to lose it, it wasn't real but he didn't want it to become nothing. Yet, it stayed true until the first snow…
She wasn't there.
Finally, he gave in to his friend's pestering, finally, he ventured out into the world again. Two nights into the weekend he took a girl home, the first real girl since his beloved Kikyou past. It felt great to plunge into her, for her hips to move along with his rhythm, but never did he bother to kiss her skin or finely painted lips nor did she. It was just a one night stand; it was just verification that he was still alive.
"That red head was pretty, eh?" Miroku nudged as they exited the coffee shop to head back to work, "the one you fucked last night."
"Yeah, I hadn't any idea what you were taking about until you said that," Inuyasha sarcastically scoffed. "She was nice."
"She's just a one night thing?"
"Well, its baby steps," Miroku nodded with a pat on the back, "and, just a little fyi, it's always better to stay in this stage instead of relationships."
"Mm-hm," he sighed.
Why'd he have to say that? Not a single document that was placed on his desk all day got done, nothing was typed up, nothing got filed away, his gaze jus lingered here and there. Relationships. He never bothered with one, as odd as it might seem for a twenty-seven year old, but it was true. He had never really had a girlfriend, he messed around with girls, he had sex with them, he went on dates sometimes, but never had he possessed one just for himself.
Kikyou, Kikyou, Kikyou… it was his fault she went away. Was it his fault the other left, too?
"Inuyasha…" it snapped him from his daze, his gaze glanced to the darkened sky outside before he looked at the stunned man standing there.
"What?" He murmured back before Miroku pointed to his own face. It took him a few too many moments to notice that his own cheek was a bit damp.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he assured as he straightened up, he hadn't even noticed…
"Inuyasha," Miroku mused for a minute before he walked over to him and set a card down on the table, "she's a therapist that specializes in grief consoling, my friend Sango's best friends with her, she's apparently the best at it. I really think you should call her… you should really set up an appointment."
"No," he grunted, he didn't need any help. Fuck that, he had pride, he wouldn't agree to it but… that didn't stop him from sliding the card into his pocket when Miroku turned to leave.
That night she came back finally.
It was different, though, they weren't in the normal flood of cream sheets but somewhere dark. A place where they couldn't get lost in anything but each other and that's what they did. Unified, they rocked together, their lips caressed each other's skin, their hands cuddled the other's body… but it ended too quickly.
No words were spared, again, nothing but their gasps, gods, he meant to ask something but he was pried from her.
And yet didn't see her for the remainder of the month…
As the snow piled up so did his regrets. Kikyou loved the snow; she was born in winter and loved the season the most. Snow… was her favorite thing. The more it fell, the worse he felt. Replays of that night haunted him each time he closed his eyes instead of the dream that had kept him sane all this time…
"I fucking hate the holidays," he cursed as he crossed his arms and leaned forward upon his friend's desk.
"You should come over to mine," Miroku suggested.
"So I can endure you and your new girlfriend' s lovey-doveiness?" He shivered at the thought.
"Why? Sango likes you—"
"I don't care."
"You don't like Sango?"
"That's not the point."
"You've been down lately," he couldn't help but state the obvious, "have you called—?"
"Fuck off," he snarled before storming away. Yet, yet… yet, maybe his friend was right? Maybe he needed to?
Maybe… maybe was a yes and even he knew that, he pulled out his wallet and dialed up the number. It was short notice, the secretary noted, but her last appointment before the holidays just opened up. Would he like to book it?
It killed him to actually go to the building that held his supposed cure. No, he couldn't do it; he took a step away from the building and buried his hands into his pocket more. No, he had to do it, so he stepped forward. Then back, then forward, then back, then forward, and then he stumbled into someone.
"I'm sorry," he stuttered before turning around to see… to see his goddess?
"It's alright," she assured with a sweet smile, an adorable laugh followed suit while she brushed some of her ebony waves of bliss out of her face, "you look lost, can I help you find somewhere?"
"I… I," he couldn't find the air that was sure to fill the world. Did she not recognize him? Did she not have the same dreams? No, she mustn't because she just kept on smiling as her hazel eyes wondered around his, "I…?"
"You, you, you?" She repeated in good joy before she looked up to the building, "I'm sorry, I have an appointment to go to… is there really nothing I can do for you?"
"I… I am looking for the fourth floor, room 420."
"Really?" She cocked a brow before looking about him, "are you Toashi Inuyasha?"
"Yes," he wirily replied.
"I'm Higurashi Kagome, I'm who you have an appointment with."
Fuck, why did the pretty girl have to be the therapist? Fuck that, no way was he going to bog her down with his problems so he shook his head, "no, you know I just came here to say I can't make it."
"Really?" She frowned yet smiled? Was that possible? Apparently it was, "you came all this way to say that?"
"I work just down at that building," he shrugged with a small nod down the street.
"Uh-huh, come upstairs with me," she requested as she grasped his jacket, "please?"
Every single bit of him wanted to go up there, to be closer to the real girl but he held his breath and shook his head. "No, it's… it's fine, bye."
Christmas Eve alone… alone, alone, how pathetic… so what better way to solve this problem then to drink at his favorite bar? The bar tender had gotten pretty close to him over the past two months and knew his favorite drink and how many was too many but he hadn't reached that limit yet. He was gone. He could be spending Christmas Eve with the woman he had loved—isn't that even worse? He hadn't ever told the women he had killed that he loved her, he hadn't even realized it until she was gone… but no, he had to fall asleep.
He had to kill her.
"Hey there, stranger," an ever so alluring lull of a voice whispered. With a slight turn of his head he glanced over to see… to see her, and right away a smile laced his lips. Was it possible for someone to look like Christmas? Because she did as she sported a red dress, "Inuyasha, right?"
"If," he paused for a moment or two before she sat down next to him, "you are going to try and whatever the hell therapist do then you can just move along."
"I am not a therapist right now," she assured as her fingers tapped, tapped, tapped away on the counter, "I'm just Kagome."
Oh, how he'd remember that name forever. How he took great pleasure that night to call it out whenever h could. She grasped his hair and pulled his lips down to hers that night. He pulled her thighs closer to him so he could feel her. Feel the real her, feel the bliss of her, feel… fucking fantastic. Nothing, nothing, gave him more pleasure then to hear her calling out his name that night. To hear her real gasps, her real moans, her real cry when she climaxed with him.
To feel her heartbeat pulse against him as he collapsed beside her.
"I'd tell you I don't do this," she giggled after gaining her breath back, "but you wouldn't believe me, would you?"
"Maybe not fully," he mumbled as he pulled himself off the bed to look over her, "if you don't, though, why'd you come back with me?"
She bit back a smile as she looked away, "this'll sound crazy…"
"I doubt it," he laughed—laughed, gods, how long has it been since he actually laughed?
"I… I may… have," she awkwardly rolled over onto her back and pulled the sheets up, "you… I… we have never met but…"
"Dreams?" He just had to let the word out there, just to see what she said and right away she flipped over to look at him, her eyes awe-struck and mouth almost open. "That it?"
"Do… did you?"
How was that possible? They both wondered that, they both knew that other did.
Instead, they just shrugged it off and turned to smile to one another… And started up where their dreams left off.
For once, she was there when he woke up. Every bit of him intended to keep it that way.
A/N: I'm fairly happy with this. Hope you enjoyed.