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Actually Loved	By : Tsuichi Category: Weiß Kreuz > General Views: 747 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Weiß Kreuz, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Actually Loved
- 1
A/N: Just a reminder to those of you who weren't directed here by me, and who havn't read my profile. This story is based upon an RP by myself and my best friend. It recounts what might've happened after an especially painful cliffhanger one night, though after reading it my friend decided to be nice and let them stay together *snicker*. WARNING: this story is not about the sex. although it does contain sex, it's rather abstract and definatly not nearly smutty enough for an NC17 rating(though I often will write those). Anyway, please keep that in mind as you read and if any of you wish to force me to tell the backstory, just leave a review or message me through my profile. Thanks and enjoy!

Actually Loved

She dealt out the cards and called the right words but she wasn’t really there. Not really. In her mind she had gone back three years, remembering what it was like to be young and in love, like the couple before her. She sighed almost silently, winning the round of blackjack again, which she was supposed to, considering she was the dealer. It was almost sad how far she’d fallen since those happy days, but, she supposed, nothing could be worse than what HE brought her out of. She’d had this job barely a year yet, and she was struggling to get by. The jewelers had finally stopped accepting her excuses for lateness or sickness by the time He was okay again. So, she’d had to move out and look for a new job. She knew that she could’ve easily stayed with Ken and Omi—but they were newly-weds, about to become proud new parents, and they were far too close to Him. She could’ve gone to Grace’s and taken care of her baby again… but that seemed, again, too much like a poor excuse to be near him when he wanted nothing to do with her ever again.

It was her own fault, she supposed. She did chase him away with her rather stupid actions. But...then, she’d known she didn’t deserve him from the beginning. He was too good for her; he always had been, no matter what he said. She sighed again and smiled prettily as the people in front of her moved on to the roulette wheel. She had no one to deal for now and as long as she smiled she could focus on whatever she liked. She couldn’t stand any more of the heartbreak that came with that train of thought so she looked around for distraction.

Everything was running smoothly in the casino, as it did on most nights. The louder gamblers were already being set upon by the many bodyguards and security members, the drinks were flowing freely at all the tables, and there was her boss, running from something as always. Wait minute….he should be in his office…something was wrong….Her head whipped around as it searched for the reason and suddenly she saw, and she knew, and she feared. Not her for mind or her body. But she feared for her heart.

The doors were slammed closed and locked as alarms started going off. There wasn’t to be a mad rush to the exits however, since there was a line of police across them holding everyone inside. A voice raised and she quivered; she knew that voice as it told her to get to her knees with her hands behind her head. She followed the instructions but she involuntarily searched the line for the source of that voice. There was a tiny smile, very tiny, for a mad Yohji, which she’d never truly seen. And there He was. You couldn’t miss him with all of that red hair…he looked exactly like she’d seen him the first time he saved her and it hurt too much to kneel there anymore. She slowly sank onto her bottom and just watched him, holding in the pain enough to make it invisible but for her weak knees. It was amazing how much she was still overwhelmed with all of her emotions around him. Three years, but it wasn’t long enough. And the ghetto wasn’t far enough. Nothing ever would be.

She hadn’t brought home a lover since that fateful night; or gone to them, either. Celibacy really wasn’t her thing, but she did it out of respect for his memory. Especially since he was still alive. Alive. Breathing. Watching. Oh no…there he was… He was watching her. He was watching Her. OH god, he was watching her. She swallowed harder, but still kept her outer face solid. She was strong; she didn’t need him… right?

As she watched the room was divided for questioning for the three men who shared an office space. She was amazed as she saw Ran willingly take the section she was in. Sighing, she stood carefully and sat on her blackjack table, facing the distant walkways; she needed some time and space for herself, knowing he wouldn’t get to her until the end. Of course, her mere movement elicited a response from one of the other cops and they forced themselves through to her and cuffed her. But before they could do more they were directed elsewhere by a still angry Yohji. She sighed and waited for what seemed an eternity. And quietly she slipped away from it all to replay the movie in her mind, the one of her and Him, a white picket fence, children. A ring, a beautiful ring, and all of it flowed with the pure joy they had in one another so many years ago.

“Chris.”

She jumped in surprise, even though she’d known he was going to speak to her sooner or later. Slowly she turned her head over her shoulder, flipping her hair out of the way and smiled. “Sorry, but I don’t use Chris anymore.”

He was silent for a moment. “Then what would you like to be called.”

“It’s back to Charisma, of course.”

Again, there was that pregnant silence, “Fine. So you work here now?”

“Yes. But let’s just get down to the point, shall we. I’m assuming you’re on a raid for my boss; he’s certainly a cowardly piece of work. You know I’ll tell you everything you want to know, but I’d much prefer to do it out of these.”

“Out of what?”

“These handcuffs.”

He slowly walked around her, being followed by a turn of her head. He shook his head a bit as he saw the solid steel encircling her bare wrists. He reached forward for her hands to undo the cuffs and paused. Likely it was because they were resting on her thigh, and literally her thigh. Her dealer costume was much more likely to be seen in a playboy mansion rather than a casino. But, she did what she had to do for as strapped for cash as she was. She smirked a little and lifted her arms, holding them out to him and he quickly removed the cold metal, strapping them on his hip. He then pulled out his notepad and pen and perched lightly on the edge of her chair. Quietly he asked his questions in simple words, his voice never wavering, his eyes watching her as she gave each answer and his pen moving without personal overview across the pages. She gave him everything she knew, as she knew she always would if asked, not just for this man. As he flipped the notepad closed and slid the pen away she sighed a tiny sigh of regret.

“Three years.”

She looked up in surprise. “Yeah… it’s been a long time.”

“How have you been?”

“Well, getting by is tougher without a permanent job or anyone to help you, but other than that, okay.”

He watched her a long minute. “So. You’re not seeing anyone.”

“No.”

“I’m surprised; I thought you would hardly be able to wait to leave the hospital before jumping some poor man.”

Oh….THAT stung. She frowned a bit and lifted her head higher. “Just because I retained that name doesn’t make me the whore that I was.” Even though I know I am and always will be.

“…Sorry. Look, why don’t we talk, how about dinner?”

“I don’t get off work until one.”

“We’re closing this place down, you’re off now.”

“Well, see, I’ve had to deal with the cops doing that more than once, which means I try to keep on hand at least 3 jobs.” She glanced at the clock “And it seems now I must go, you’ve already kept me from being able to remove this horrible costume, and I cannot be late for work.”

“………….. We still need to talk. How about we get coffee later?”

All she could do was snort. “You don’t drink coffee, and neither do I.”

“People change, Chris.”

“And they don’t too: it’s Charisma.”

“…. Fine. Just tell me where to meet you after work so I can walk you home and we can talk then if nothing else will do.”

“Fine,” She sighed softly. “Don’t be mad at me, okay? It’s the best I can get anymore.”

He just blinked at her a few times.

“The Geisha Dream.”

“Isn’t that a- “

“Yes. It is. But I can do it and I need the money, okay?”

“….Fine. One you said?”

“….yeah. One a.m.” With that she slipped off the table and grabbed her purse hiding in a cubbyhole behind it, and then ran out the door.

She got in trouble that night at the strip club for being distracted and lost an hour of work for it. At least she still got all of her tips, the boss couldn’t touch those. At one she shakily slid into a robe she’d be allowed to escape with till the next work day when she could return it. As she stepped out into the night she immediately felt a chill in the air, and forgetting about Ran, started briskly on her way home to warm up. A hand dropped on her shoulder and she let out a small scream, whipping out her tiny handgun and bringing it to bear on the offender. Her eyes widened further as she saw a pair of amethyst ones staring back at her. She shuddered once as his hand moved and she lowered the gun again into the folds of her robe.

“Are you always so well armed?”

“You kind of have to be on these streets. Buying it cost me my rent and I got evicted, but, honestly, I still think it’s worth it.”

“Used it often?” It seemed he was almost surprised when she nodded in agreement. She sighed again.

“I’m a dancer, a bartender, and I was a casino-bunny. A lot of men have fights to pick or things they want from me. I’ve just decided to handle it the best I can, and on these streets, firepower is my only option.”

“I see. Well, lead on, I can assure you safety at least this night.” He didn’t seem to notice as she looked away, remembering all those nights that he promised her safety for an eternity. Quickly she started walking to what she fondly calls her castle, trying to remember whether or not she picked up her underclothes from the previous day off the floor. They got to her place without much talk at all, and standing outside the door she stopped and looked up at him.

“Thank you.”

“We didn’t talk.”

“What is there to really talk about, Ran?”

She shivered as he lifted a lock of hair off her cheek and placed it behind her ear. “A lot.”

“No…you sai- we said all we needed to say in that hospital room, Ran.” She turned and slid her key into the lock, pausing as his hand settled on her shoulder again. “Yes?”

“Invite me in, I’ll make hot chocolate.”

“….I thought you would’ve gotten it by now; I’m too poor to even buy bread, never mind hot chocolate.”

“…Let me in anyway.”

“Fine,” she couldn’t keep the little squeak of pain out of her voice this time and it shamed her, her cheeks flushing, as she opened the door and let them both in. She quickly picked up the panties she HAD forgotten to put away that morning and slid them into a basket next to the futon that doubled as her bed. “Well. Welcome to my happy home.”

The sarcasm rent the silence of the room in a way nothing else could. She watched him as he turned his head, taking it all in, and she tried to see it from his eyes. Gunshot-holed walls that she’d tried to quick patch but were still painfully obvious; a toilet next to a sink and a tiled floor with a shower head that served as bathroom and kitchen, a tiny stack of books beside the futon that he would know instantly, because, god help her, they were his favourites and she still couldn’t just let him go; the futon that was still laid flat and a mess of sheets; a small side table that was an everything rack for her, from holding books to a glass of filthy water to a bowel of leftover boiled white rice; and then against the furthest wall a clothes rack filled with her many costumes over the years, a pair of jeans, a blouse, a t-shirt, and oh my god. She’d totally forgotten about his shirt that she’d packed three years ago unconsciously that she still hadn’t had the heart to sell.

The shirt that she still slept in, pretending it still smelled of him. The only thing in the room that still felt like home to her. She glanced at him, seeing him notice it with surprise.

“I’d wondered where that’d gone.”

“I-I…I’m sorry. “

“What happened to everything else you had when you were with me?”

“I had to sell it all to eat.”

“I see.”

“Well. Are you happy now?”

“No, we haven’t talked yet, Chris.”

“God damn it! And Goddamn you Ran Fujimiya! I can’t talk with you, okay!” She cried as she stormed to the far side of the room and removed the shirt from its hangar, coming back and thrusting it into his surprised hands. “Just get out! Get OUT!”

She never saw them coming, with the tears blurring her eyes. But as she let go of the cotton shirt she was caught in his arms with no escape. “Let…me…go!” She tried to struggle, but it was no use, he’d caught her and that was the end of that. Finally giving up and collapsing on his chest she let the tears flow freely. “Just go, leave me alone!”

“No.” those two little letters ruined her, and her knees promptly gave out on her. Of course, she was so caught in his web that she couldn’t even sink to the floor properly. And now he was picking her up in his arms and bringing her to the futon, laying her down, and laying down beside her. “Chris.”

She shook her head violently. “No! NO! I’m not your Chris! I never was your Chris, I’m just the whore known as Charisma, get it through your skull--!” She never got to finish her derogatory comment for she was cut off by a kiss. Oh….god, he was kissing her. He was kissing her! And it was the same as three and a half years ago, that mad passion, the swirl of emotion, and the calm sea that was tossing violently with heartbreak that could often be called love. She hadn’t felt it in so long she couldn’t resist it, or him. No, never would there come a day when she could resist him.

He drew her closer to him as her lips parted for him slowly sliding her robe free of her body and setting the handgun on the table. Before she could even remember her name he had her clothing on the floor and it was quickly being joined with his own. No…please, no. I won’t be able to ever let him go again. Please, God, have mercy on me, make him stop so I can be free……Even that thought was cut off as he slid inside her in that all too familiar way. A moan escaped her lips as she twined her arms around him, holding him closer as he slowly brought their fight, and their love, to its climax.

She could never truly fight against this man, he was her forever love, after all, whether she wished to remember that or not. With a soft cry her universe collapsed into the single thought that was the man above her, the man who was joining her in the glory of the moment. He kissed her again and slowly withdrew, laying down beside her and pulling her against him for the first time in three years. She simply fell into the curve of his body clinging to him with her heart, feeling the warmth that was his flood her body, and fell asleep with a smile on her lips and a tear stained pillow- though she remembered neither.

The next morning came far too early and she sat up knowing it was bright outside, though the lack of window never let it penetrate inwards. She reached beside her and felt nothing but empty covers and she couldn’t bear to look over, to see him gone. She should have truly known that this is what would happen; he’d screw her like the whore she was, just to prove it to himself, and then leave her. She pulled her knees to her chest and indulged in a fit of crying before dragging her aching body to the cold shower awaiting her.

On her way she stepped on something soft and she looked down to see his shirt she’d taken. It had lain there all night, forgotten about even in the break of dawn. Shaking she reached down and picked it up, holding it to her chest and sobbing again. Carefully she hung it up and then moved on with her daily routine, promising herself to never wear it again.

But, that night as she came in from her second job as a barmaid she reached for it automatically and slept curled up on the side he took the night before, searching for anything left of him in the impersonal covers.

~6 Years Later~

In a marketplace which has changed little in the past decade but for quality of wares, a little girl played with her ball in bare feet and a patched dress. She was sat at the fountain like she’d been told to; but suddenly the water sprayed with the wind and made the ball slick, sending it shooting from her hands to bounce at the feet of a strange man.

She ran to it, knowing it was a precious treasure, and almost ran into the man. Looking up to apologize she blinked at his surprised expression, and at eyes that matched her own exactly. It as odd enough for eyes to match exactly, but she knew hers were special. Her mommy told her so every single day. And as she looked up at this stranger through her curtain of jet black hair she saw what she saw in the mirror. Amethyst her mommy always called them, amethyst. As he leaned down to hand her the ball which she’d forgotten about she remembered her manners and tried to apologize.

“’M sorrah sah…” no, wait, that wasn’t right. That’s what the other children she played with said, her mommy told her a different way, so she tried again. “Ah’m sorree Siiir….” Well…not quite, but that was as close as mommy was going to get.

“It’s…quite all right. Are you alone?”

“Nah, muh mommee’s oveh in tha’ shore” and she pointed it out to him, turning back to him to accept her ball.

“OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! MAMA! Rosie’s in trouble, RIGHT!!!”

Oh no!!! She looked over her shoulder at the little boy flying towards her. “Mav, don’!!!!!!!! I’ were an assiden’, an’ on’y fur a seckant.”

“Mama! Mama!!!!” He was laughing as he pulled to a stop beside her, breathless. Only now did he look at the stranger, who, ironically looked exactly like himself. With scarlet locks and amethyst eyes, their skin paler than milk. He blinked in surprise as he looked at them. “Rosie…Mama’s gonna be mad.”

“Where is your mom?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry about my kid-” The words were cut off with a gasp. “Ran.” She was shaking as she saw him next to her kids... their kids.

He looked up at her and just stared. “Is this some kind of joke?”

She shook her head and reached out grabbing the two ruffians by their sleeves, pulling them to her, leaving Ran holding the ball, only to have him drop it in his shock. “These are my children, Rhoswhynnl and Maverick.”

“No, Mama! It’s Mav!”

“An’ Rwosey!”

Chris looked down at them and sighed. Then looked back up at Ran. “Rosie and Mav, my apologies.”

“Chris…”

She just shook her head at him. “Don’t you ever listen? I haven’t used that in years, Ran. I can’t, okay.”

“They’re….”

“Yeah; the products of a one night stand. But they’re mine, and I love them, and so help me I won’t let you take them from me.”

“Chris, I – I wouldn’t…..but…. They’re…”

“No. You couldn’t. And yes. They’re yours.” Tears filling her eyes she picked up the forgotten ball from the street and slid it into her shopping bag, taking the kids’ hands and heading out of the market. Towards the exit that lies adjacent to the roughest alley in the city, too low even for crime and drugs; the slave quarters. Again, it seemed, Charisma had fallen too low to get up again and this time had brought Ran’s children with her because he didn’t even know they existed.

The only one who looked back at him was Rosie, her eyes begging him to help them since she now knew he was the one her mommy always spoke of with such love. How could a man her mommy actually loved be bad and not help them. …Right?

~Fin´i
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