A/N: I hope you enjoy this article of fiction. Please go easy on me and submit a review if you find something to comment on. I'm still new at this so I hope you will find it adequate. I would assess that one could claim this to be "A.U." because of the character relations I've set forth.
I do not own Sailor Moon. I am merely a fan seeking to write stories based upon the characters.
Such an innocent flower blooms under the vigilant Emerald eyes of one woman. She is woman that most don't care to comprehend. With her tall figure, strong and muscled, she protects the small plant well. With her soft heart she tends the soil it needs to grow. In her gentle embrace she cradles the new sprout as she places it in its bed. Perhaps I should state that at this moment in time I envy the position of the small flower. This woman is many things to many people, but to me she is simply Mako.
Many people find our closeness hard to match as I forgo any honorific one may use. We do not need such formalities as of late. I care deeply for this woman of chestnut tresses just like she does me. Her eyes gaze up from her work to ponder her next task of the day. The dinner is in the oven, her homework complete, the house spic and span. Finally content that her chores are absolutely finished she finds a seat on the old sofa that stands out among the otherwise perfect room.
I cannot begin to clarify when it was that I started to fall in love with the woman before me. I can safely assure that she is as delicate as the flowers she so lovingly tends on a daily basis. Her heart is one that can only be described as that of a morning light. You see, the Sun shines brightly and Mako does not seek such rapt attention. The Moonlight can often be hidden in the shadows. Makoto, for as much as she remains introverted doesn't yearn to be that way. Instead she is that of the morning. She is the quiet calm that allows slight melancholy to don your features. She is the early song that the birds sing waking those from slumber. Lastly, she is the small ray of light that doesn't want to be seen; the one who shelters others happily forgoing its own time to shine brightly.
She smiles at me now, longing in her eyes. Slowly she stands moving gradually towards me. Those emotions captivate me even now as I sit breathless in the armchair I occupy. I cannot move, and cannot speak. Surely she is that beautiful. A simple white oversized shirt covered in dust and dirt masks her true beauty as a pair of jeans ripped in the knee snag on the corner of the end table. She falters slightly, muttering only a moment at her situation. I cannot help but giggle.
She grins back as she rolls her eyes dramatically. The ponytail she keeps bobs slightly as she shakes her head at my staring. What does she see I wonder? Does she see a plain and simple girl? Does she think me to be a beautiful woman like I see in her? Her gaze implores me to wonder. It seems I've not long to wait as she embraces me. Wordlessly she's telling me all I will ever need to know. She lifts me in her arms and carries me to the front deck where nothing but the crickets can be heard in the grass.
In her arms I feel safe as we sit on the porch watching the evening clouds roll by. Her old truck battered from the many years it's seen, finds perch on the gravel driveway. The air out here is fresh and clean and I feel at ease knowing we aren't near the busy streets of the city. The woodsy scent of Makoto's clothes invade my senses as I cuddle into her further, happy we decided to move out here. We are away from most of our family and friends, but, not so far as to not reach them. I know it may seem anomalous. I couldn't believe it myself either when we found out a few months ago.
As Makoto stretches her long legs out in front of her I see the green nail polish on her toes. As rough around the edges as she may appear she is actually much the opposite. She sighs contently as she moves her hands to rest on my abdomen where I know soon I will start to show. We have only her brother to thank for this wonderful gift he's given us. I know she felt bad she couldn't do it herself, yet I know she too wanted this more than anything. The gift of a child. As we now take in the soothing sounds of night I smile knowing that we have gotten what we really covet.
Family. The simplest of words happen to be the ones that mean the most. Zoisite cares deeply for the both of us, and he wishes his little sister to smile as they had as children. Makoto has lived a rough life. Left an orphan at the age of ten to be raised by a brother not five years older, existence was not always the easiest thing to come by. Still she managed to make it this far. Soon she will have a chance to be the mother she never had the chance to have herself. Times like this we need not speak. I know she loves me as I love her. Words fall flat considering our position. Her simple embrace speaking more than words could begin to clearly define. All that I have is all I will ever need.
Makoto, she's the one who needs so much more. She needs the sun to lighten her day. She needs the night to shed her tears. Those are only a few things a delicate woman like her requires. At that point it would be safe to state that my Mako has a soul that you can't equate to a human. Instead it is that of nature, one of a flower. Beautiful and delicate like that of petal. Protective and dangerous like a thorn. Yes, surely this description fits best. Even if this is the case, my Makoto becomes highly indescribable because a flower simply doesn't do her justice. She is far more than any definition in a dictionary can give, although many have tried. That is why we speak so often in terms that do not require speech. We have no need and in this we find our love.
To say I'm lucky would be a large understatement. I have a wonderful home that will become a haven for my future child to grow and play. A woman I adore more than words can say. Lastly, I see a future that even if unclear shines brightly just as the first ray of light cast in the dawn.
-Chapter 1: Completed- Chapter two will come shortly.
Tell me what you think. I hope you liked it. Constructive criticism is welcome and will be taken into consideration. This is a part of a much larger series of stories I have written over the years. I would be delighted to post more, but only if you are interested.