A/N: I am now going to post Makoto's point of view. I know some people might find it as if I'm repeating myself. I hope you will find this fascinating enough to read and review. Constructive criticism is not only allowed, I highly encourage you to do so.
I do not own Sailor Moon.
Calculating azure eyes watch from afar as a slight woman takes perch in her favorite armchair. I know she thinks I remain unaware of her gaze as I tend the flowers on the windowsill. She studies me intently lost within her own thoughts. With her slim fingers toying with the fabric on the chair she clearly thinks I'm focused on the small rose bud in my hands. I allow my eyes to revert back to my hobby, making sure the soil is ready before I plant the little sprout. One day it will blossom into a rosebush worthy of a place in the garden. For now it is still too small and the sill will have to do.
After I've finished I check my mental list. The flowers have been trimmed, weeded, and watered. The house has been dusted, vacuumed, floors washed, and furniture polished. My psychology homework has been completed for the day awaiting Ami's revision and a mild dinner is cooking in the oven. Everything seems to be in order and I now decide to pad my way over to the sofa to collapse my tired body. Ami hates that I insist on doing all of the housework. She never likes it when I do every little thing for her. She says I pamper her too much. I can't help myself. She hasn't been feeling her best lightly and so it's my job to care for her.
It's nice to know I can forget about formalities. I haven't had to worry about that for a while now. She and I are far too close for that. I wonder what she thinks about on a daily basis when she putters around the house aimlessly. Her eyes are on me again, a can feel it. She's thinking something, although I can't tell you what that is. Ami's funny like that. Behind those blue eyes of hers she's always thinking something. She's such a poet, so eloquent in her words and actions. I miss her in my arms and this must be fixed.
I manage to pry myself off of the sofa and look into her eyes. Those same calculating eyes that study everything in an attempt to find answers to things never written are now looking back with intensity. I wonder what she thinks of me. Am I a woman that she will always love? Can I trust she won't leave me like many in my life have? I know when I look into her eyes I become lost. I can't explain it so I don't try. I'd rather act on impulse. She would rather use logic. I know she's beautiful but my brain can't seem to tell my darn legs to move. I know I should be moving, but for some odd reason my leg seems to resist. I look down and notice my problem lies with the hole in my jeans. Great! Perfect! Blasted garments catch on everything! I hear her giggling lightly now and I realize I must have spoken aloud. I don't care, not now, not ever. Yeah, I know I should have better grace than that. Sue me.
I free my leg from the table before I roll my eyes at my mistake. I know I shouldn't but I stare long and hard into her blue eyes. She's starting to feel uneasy. She's been acting odd lightly. Saying she's unattractive and crying for the smallest reasons. Her mood swings are starting to get worse and I know she can't help it. She's still in her pajamas from this morning and I can't fault her in the slightest. She's still a little pale and I have a feeling she'll be in my arms again crying feeling as if she's not good enough. I have to comfort her.
I hold her in my arms. I hope my embrace speaks of love and comfort. I pick her up and carry her to our front porch. I want her to relax and be at ease. Slowly she does as we take a seat. I make sure she's still in my arms protectively. The outside of the cottage isn't much to look at. We are still trying to get settled. My truck is parked in the driveway. It's old but reliable. The grass is still growing and my garden has yet to be started. It's peaceful as I hear the crickets chirping. She's snuggling in closer to me now and I know she's finally getting comfortable.
I stretch out my legs so they don't fall asleep. I glance at my toenails and realize that I'll need to put on a new coat of polish in them soon. The green is starting to chip away at the edges. Serves me right, I hate socks and shoes and in my own home I see no need to wear them. I smile contently knowing Ami is feeling at least a little better and I bring my hands at rest on her belly. She'll start to show soon, I just know it. We will be parents quicker than I think we realize. Now, I'm sure most people are wondering how that little miracle happened. Let's just say you have my brother to thank. He was the donor.
Zoisite is hard to describe. Sometimes he's a jerk; other times he's the guy riding in on his white horse when you know you're in trouble. Either way he's my brother plain and simple as that. We fight as siblings often do as we seek to better ourselves in this world. The rivalry has gone on since we were kids. That's what made us strong. We had to push past our limits to even get to where we are now. He's in the city with his new boyfriend hoping to start a family. I'm in the country wanting to do the same with Ami. Our life hasn't been perfect. Even if I promise that I no longer cry for my past, I know I'm lying. Very few have given me a chance to start fresh. Now that have that chance I won't let it slip away.
I feel Ami sigh into my embrace and I know everything will be alright. I see a light that shines brightly in our future. Now that I have her love and support that light, the small growing spectacle is now within my reach. No, scratch that. It is now within our reach.
Please tell me what you think.