Love from Venus: Arc 2, Part 1
Title: Love from Venus
Part: ARC 2, Part 1
Author: Aquarius Galuxy
Fandom: Power Stone
Pairing: Rouge/Ryoma
Genre: Romance/Erotica/Friendship/AU
Rating: varies from PG to NC-17
Word count: 3,861
Summary: Sales representative Ryoma Iwakura's life careens off course when a business deal brings him to a hostess bar, and into the company of hostess and strip club dancer Rouge. A spark of attraction ignites between them, one Ryoma tries to deny. Despite his reservations, he embarks on a scandalous friendship with Rouge that questions his plans for the future.
Author's Notes: Two more chapters! Ending is still not finalized. =p Prompts are from 10_prompts.
#32 (9:10 Commit)
Ryoma adjusted his necktie in the bathroom mirror, inspecting his attire to ensure that it was appropriate for the lunch meeting he had later that day. His shirt and pants weren't much different from what he usually wore; what stood out on him was the burgundy pin-striped tie Rouge had given him months ago, that he saved for important occasions.
With a fond smile at the article, he glanced over the crowded shelves on the wall, now filled with feminine beauty products he couldn't even begin to name. Rouge had certainly made herself comfortable in the month or so she'd been here.
Ryoma wandered out of the kitchen, noting that the curtains were left drawn from the night before. He and Rouge had been too preoccupied to remember them then. The unhampered window would soon let the sun in; he strode over and pulled fabric across it, glancing at Rouge when the metal hoops hissed noisily across the curtain frame. She remained curled up in bed, deaf to the world in slumber. Her hair was braided to prevent it from tangling. He preferred it when it was undone, though, because her silky locks were a joy to run his fingers through.
It was almost difficult to believe that Rouge was living with him now. It had taken a few weeks for Falcon to find another apartment he could rent (incidentally, it was a unit in the very same building, just a couple floors above, that he shared with some stranger) and Mindhi to settle in with Ayame and Cassie, before Rouge was willing to make his apartment her home.
Yet, for all the connections they shared and things they did together, he and Rouge were still just friends.
Granted, they were intimate companions who had sex together on a regular basis. They weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. Maybe lovers. But there never was a clear distinction, a spoken agreement between them.
Rouge had not told him how she felt. Ever since that morning he confessed, they hadn't talked any more about their emotions, merely continuing as they were before. He didn't dare ask about her feelings, not because of a fear of rejection, but because he could not give her anything other than friendship. Their current situation was far from what was right. He was disappointing his future wife, his parents, but Rouge-- She was an addiction he couldn't wean himself of.
He liked the way she laughed, loved her smile. He looked forward to her teasing and touch, to their conversations on life and cultures and hobbies. Rouge challenged his beliefs and supported his ideas. Not to mention the way she was in bed, voracious and brazen, with a range of eye-popping kinks she was slowly tutoring him on.
Ryoma didn't want to decipher what he felt towards her now. He wasn't ready for it. Perhaps he'd never be prepared to purge her from his system, either. Unease roiled in his gut, a nagging doubt he suppressed as best as he could. No news arriving from his parents meant that he could live on borrowed time for just a little longer.
He looked at her sleeping figure, trailing his gaze over the covers bunched around her form. She'd expressed such delight at having a functioning radiator around during wintertime. Ryoma smiled at the memory, sweeping his eyes over the touch of girlishness that she'd brought into his apartment.
For all that she hadn't told him, there was a softness to her smile that he had not missed, a tenderness to her touch when she thought him distracted. He sometimes wondered if she liked him in return, or maybe even loved him. But he always quashed those thoughts before they gave him false hope.
A knock on the door drew his attention away from her. Ryoma turned towards his desk, grabbing his briefcase and getting ready to go. That had to be Falcon, dropping by to pick him up for work. He cast a last glance at Rouge, making sure she was comfortable, before exiting the apartment to start his day.
---
#33 (12:1 Letter)
Falcon set the groceries on the draining board and sauntered out into the living room, where Ryoma was sorting through his mail. "So, popped the question yet?"
"What question?" Ryoma glanced up at the blond suspiciously, separating bills and flyers into two separate piles on his desk. As far as he knew, he'd asked Rouge all the essential questions he had remaining since she'd moved in. None of which Falcon was privy to.
"Oh, you know, asking Rouge to be your girlfriend?" Falcon looked archly at him, before heading over to the TV. "You've been living with her for two freakin' months, buddy!"
"Stop harping on that." Ryoma frowned and turned away from his ex-roommate, ignoring the burst of noise from the television set. What went on between him and Rouge was his own business, wasn't it? Besides, Falcon didn't know the half of his reasons. If he had the choice to ask her-- If he had the choice...
Ryoma suppressed the thought and focused on his letters instead. It would sting if he thought about what things could have been.
The blond had been dropping by frequently since he moved out, keeping to their old dinner routine on the evenings Rouge wasn't at home. Despite how much he annoyed Ryoma with his emphasis on a relationship, Ryoma appreciated his company. He'd got used to having noise around the apartment, with how Falcon practically lived in front of the TV and commented on the most mundane of subjects.
"C'mon, spare a thought for poor Rouge, Ryoma. She's been living with you for so long. Most girls don't do stuff like this without a good reason." Falcon tossed the TV remote in the air and caught it, cushioning his head against the wall with his forearm. "And by 'good reason', I mean an 'I like you so much that I'd live with you' kinda reason."
Ryoma blushed lightly, keeping his eyes on the dwindling pile of letters in his hand. He was about to respond to when a small envelope caught his attention. His name and address were inked in a familiar scrawl, one that made his heartbeat slow with dread. With luck, this would be just like the ones he'd received in the months before.
He eased the flap open, gingerly sliding the thin, yellowed paper out from within. The pigments had seeped through to the other side, an unreadable mess of words until he unfolded the missive and scanned it through. His stomach plummeted.
Dear Ryoma,
How have you been? Your father and I are doing well. There is still plenty of rice in the bin, and we've had more than enough meat with the money you sent. It's been raining lately though, so the roof is leaking, but other than that, the house is fine.
Do you remember Mai, the neighbour whose house you used to play at when you were a boy? Her daughter Miko just had a baby son this spring. He's a very handsome little lad! Your cousin Ami is due to wed this summer, and so is her sister, Yui. Everyone's looking forward to the wedding preparations.
You'll be 24 in a few months' time, won't you, Ryoma? It'll soon be time for you to wed a girl and start your own family. Your father and I have been going to the matchmaker's, who introduced some very nice young ladies to us. We've met them and their parents, and we've picked out the best girl for you: Her name is Miho. She's beautiful, fair of skin, with long black hair--
At this point, Ryoma felt too sickened to read on, but he forced himself through to the end of the letter, his insides coalescing into a hard lump.
--She is the sweetest, kindest young woman of the lot. Pure, obedient, very keen to please. We've made sure that she hasn't had any dealings with other men in the past. (Hussies would bring such shame to the family, as you know.) Miho just turned 18 not long ago. She likes to sew and sing.
We're very convinced that Miho will be the perfect wife for you, Ryoma. Do come home soon, we'd like for you to meet her, and arrange a date for your marriage. I'm certain that you'd be pleased with her.
In the meantime, do take care of yourself, and eat well.
Love,
Mother
He stared blankly at the letter for a long time. Miho? She didn't sound the slightest bit like Rouge. Was she to be his wife? He could imagine her vague features, imagine her to be the sweet, young thing his mother described. Ryoma swallowed with some difficulty. He pictured the girl, Miho, at his side, pictured her in his distant future. It didn't feel right, not by a long shot.
But it was going to be the path he took, anyway. He'd decided on this long ago, and he couldn't just abandon his resolutions on a whim. It just didn't help that having to end things with Rouge right now felt like the wrongest thing on Earth.
Falcon noticed his silence, looking over curiously. "What's wrong, Ryoma? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
He blinked, shifting his gaze to the blond slowly. The letter had made him forget that Falcon was even present. He looked between his friend and the missive. It felt heavy, the thin sheet of writing. Before the gears of his mind had even moved to formulate a response, Falcon had stood up, walking over to inspect the offending material.
"What's that?" Falcon pulled the letter from his fingertips effortlessly, just as Ryoma thought to keep it away from him. With a growing sense of unease, he watched the man's blue eyes flicker from left to right, the expression on his face growing more incredulous by the second. When he reached the end of the letter, Falcon looked back up at him. "The hell? What about Rouge?"
Ryoma frowned and looked away, regaining some control of his frozen body. He couldn't even begin to voice the disquiet in him. "I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Falcon waved the letter in his face. "Were you aware of this beforehand?"
He nodded tightly, avoiding Falcon's gaze. How was he even going to tell Rouge about this?
"You knew? You knew you were gonna tie the knot with some girl, and yet you've been fooling around with Rouge all this while?" Falcon stared accusingly at him, glancing at the piece of paper. When he didn't answer, the blond straightened, his eyes widening with some sort of realisation. "This is why you haven't actually hooked up with her."
"Yeah." Ryoma ran his fingers through his hair, before pulling the desk chair out and sitting heavily on it. Letting go of Rouge was the last thing he wanted to do right now.
"I can't believe it, Ryoma. You're such a--" Falcon paused to find the right word, "--a bastard!" Ryoma leaned forward on his knees, burying his face in his hands. He already knew all that. Falcon, however, continued with his verbal onslaught. "I mean, having two girls at one time is one thing, but having a fiancée and another girl is just damn wrong!"
"I've told Rouge that I'm getting married," Ryoma mumbled into his palms, realising the reason why she hadn't spoken to him about being in a relationship; he'd mentioned it so long ago that he thought she'd forgotten. It just made him ache for her all the more.
"Yeah, and what did she say about it?" the blond pressed.
Ryoma exhaled deeply. Rouge had opposed to the idea of arranged marriages, not him getting married. But that was months ago, before this mess started. He sometimes wondered where she'd have wanted things to head, though never for long, because it was a pointless thought to have. "Nothing."
Falcon snorted. Ryoma saw him set the letter on the desk through a crack in his fingers. "I don't believe she feels nothing."
"I don't, either," he admitted, wincing at how much more he was going to put her through. "It's just... all this wasn't supposed to have happened." He shouldn't have even glimpsed Rouge the first time. All it took was just a single meeting for him to fall into the mire, a single kiss to sink him waist-deep, and a single night to corrupt his desire.
"Well, now that things have happened, what're you gonna do?" Falcon stepped back to observe him. Ryoma shrugged. "What do you feel about her?"
He shook his head, pushing himself off the chair to pace next to his bed. "I don't--" Ryoma was about to tell Falcon that he didn't know, but it hit him that the answer was in there, somewhere. He just wasn't ready to face whatever he felt. A vague emotion was easier to let go of than something concrete, wasn't it? "I don't want to know."
The blond stared at him, baffled. "You've got issues, Ryoma. You either like Rouge, or you love her. There's no way you can't feel anything for her. Hell, you looked like you'd just received your death sentence!" Falcon paused. "Come to think of it, you probably l--"
"Cut it out, Falcon," Ryoma snapped, at the same time Falcon continued his sentence.
"--Love her." He raised his eyebrows.
"I do not!" Ryoma retorted, out of habit rather than with any thought to his situation. He drew a deep breath and looked away. Breaking things off with Rouge was something that had to be done sooner than later, before they got any worse. What would become of them after that, he would deal with when the time came. "I'm just going to tell her that this has to end."
He didn't like the sound of that.
"Right, you have some serious issues to get through, buddy." Falcon clapped him on the back, slanting him an almost-sympathetic look. "Just remember that Rouge is a person, like you. She won't take kindly to being strung along."
Ryoma sighed and passed his hand over his face, wishing that there was some other way around this.
---
#34 (12:10 Pieces)
"I'm home!" Rouge called the moment she set foot into the apartment, brightening at the lights that were still on. Ryoma was at his desk -- she hadn't seen him awake since a few days ago, when she'd had her whole day off work. Things had been fun then.
She placed her satchel aside and shut the door, shrugging her thin coat off. Ryoma had turned to watch as she entered; Rouge felt her lips twitch upwards of their own accord, meeting his gaze. Curling up with him tonight seemed a very good idea after all the time she'd spent without him. She wanted to tell him about her day, on top of asking about his.
There was a slowness to Ryoma's movements when he stood, that Rouge didn't pay mind to when she crossed the room, lifting her arms to encircle his form. "Hey--", she began, closing the distance between them.
Ryoma stepped back, away from her.
"Rouge, there's something I need to tell you," he spoke quietly, shadowed eyes meeting hers.
Rouge stilled in shock, drawing back, her eyes widening in confusion. Her arms fell limply to her sides. A growing sense of foreboding worried at her; Ryoma had never looked so haunted, nor had he rejected her so openly during the time they'd been living together. "What is it?" she breathed, not daring to raise her voice, for fear of breaking this sudden tension between them.
"I--" He glanced away, towards a folded letter on the desk. She followed his line of sight. Something told her that the missive played a part in this. "Do you remember the time we talked about arranged marriages?"
She nodded slowly, vaguely recalling their exchange at Bailey's. Ryoma had told her that he was to have an arranged marriage. She hadn't pushed him for a relationship for that very reason-- Rouge froze, having an inkling of where their conversation was headed. "Don't tell me..." she trailed off in the middle of her whisper, unable to voice her nagging doubt.
"I'm going to be married." He slid his gaze back towards hers, his expression unreadable.
Rouge felt the blood drain from her face. She couldn't breathe, staring blankly at him, waiting for him to convince her that it wasn't what she thought it was. But Ryoma never, ever pulled jokes. She swallowed, swallowed again. This couldn't be happening. "You? Married?" she repeated faintly, desperately trying to find some glimmer of determination in his eyes that signalled they would be together.
"Yeah. My parents have chosen a girl for me. I'm due to go back and meet her." He watched her solemnly. For a moment there, the apartment and the world outside else ceased to exist. Her chest felt as if was crumbling and everything within her ribcage was being emptied out.
"What about us?" Rouge croaked, knowing her question was pointless the moment she asked. This was bound to happen someday. There wasn't a future to their relationship. All the same, she wished he'd reach over and hold her somehow.
Just the other day, they'd been laughing and snuggling. Just the other day, he'd leaned over and kissed her. She glanced around the apartment jerkily, over the desk and closet and the bed -- their bed -- and back at him. There was no hope for them, but she wanted to be a little selfish again. "What about me, Ryoma?"
He looked away. She bit her lip, tasting lipstick. It hurt thinking that he would be leaving her. "I... I'm sorry."
"Doesn't any of this matter to you?" she asked breathlessly, gesturing at the apartment. Her mind was spinning and she didn't want to imagine what was going to happen. "Don't I matter enough to you? We've been living together for two months now."
"This was all a mistake." He glanced back at her, frowned. She read the regret in his eyes all too well. Ryoma regretted meeting her; he did not regret having to marry someone he did not know.
Rouge inhaled shakily, the corners of her eyes prickling. "Am I a mistake, Ryoma? Is that all I am to you?" She kept her gaze on him long enough to bite the questions out, before turning away, swallowing at the tightness in her throat. Her chest ached. All she wanted to do was to curl up and cry. This had been all a lie she'd hid herself in for a while. Ryoma had been -- was -- so important to her. She wasn't the same to him. What had he seen her as, in that case? When Ryoma did not respond, she lashed out at him, "Why did you even ask me to live with you?! You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?"
"I-- Yes, I did." He looked guiltily at her, clenching his fists. "It was an honest mistake on my part. I-- I'm sorry."
'Sorry' didn't even begin to cover the fissure he'd torn in her chest. Rouge watched him incredulously, wishing there was some way she could change this all. He'd just been giving her empty hope all this time, and she'd been too desperate to walk away. "How could you do this to me?"
"I didn't plan on it! Being with you makes me do things I shouldn't." He didn't have to explain what those things were. She knew them well, could relive them all over again if she wished. Had they been important to him? Had she been important to him? Probably not, not at this point.
"At least tell me what you feel towards me," she choked. Her eyes were hot, and she turned to the side to blink their moisture away. All these months couldn't have been for nothing.
"I can't." Ryoma shifted uncomfortably on his feet. She looked at him hopelessly, wondering what ground there still was for her to clutch on to. "I don't have an answer for you, Rouge."
Rouge bit down a sob, taking deep breaths to calm the turbulence within herself. Ryoma was probably just having a good time with her. She closed her eyes, willing the prickle in her nose to go away. If she was going to leave Ryoma, she'd want to know what would become of him, at the very least. Or what sort of girl he was choosing above her. "Wh-What is she like?"
"She--" Ryoma hesitated, looking back towards the desk. She concentrated on his voice, committing it to heart so she could remember him properly in the future. "She's a young girl. Her name is Miho. From-- From what my mother told me, she's sweet, mild... and, well--" He glanced away. "--A virgin."
She stared mutely at him for a long moment, realising then that she hadn't a chance with him. A dead weight settled in her chest, full of hurt and resignation. He was slipping away right before her eyes. "She's everything I'm not, huh?" she whispered.
Ryoma looked away, unable to meet her gaze. She sobbed drily, blinked hard to keep hot tears from welling in her eyes. What had happened to their vague, simple relationship? Everything was falling apart. She turned away, glancing obliquely at him, relishing his facial features. It would be better if she left now. There wasn't a chance left for them, anyway.
She would bunk at her friends' place, and return to move her things out when he wasn't home. There wouldn't be a trace of her when she was done, nothing to remind him of her. That thought alone made her chest clench tightly. Saline leaked from her eyes; she squeezed them shut the instant he turned to look at her. Ryoma moved, just a little, but she was already making her way to the door, grabbing her bag and coat before he could change her mind.
"Rouge." He touched her arm the moment she grabbed the doorknob.
She trembled, swallowed hard. Ryoma was so close to her that she could feel his heat. His warmth was addictive; he ought to have known that by now. The prospect of not seeing him ever again forced more wetness from her eyes. She gulped. There was just one last thing she had to know, that she didn't quite dare ask. Rouge fixed her eyes on the plain white paint of the door, breathing slowly, piecing words together in her mind. "Will-- will she love you? As... as much as--"
As much as I do.
She choked, her throat clamping shut. On second thought, she really didn't want to know. Saltwater streaked down her cheeks, ruining her makeup, but she didn't care about that now. Ryoma shifted behind her; she yanked the door open. "No, don't answer." Her voice broke.
Rouge knew he was still watching her when she slipped out of the apartment, her face crumpling in a mess of tears he couldn't see.
------
Part: ARC 2, Part 1
Author: Aquarius Galuxy
Fandom: Power Stone
Pairing: Rouge/Ryoma
Genre: Romance/Erotica/Friendship/AU
Rating: varies from PG to NC-17
Word count: 3,861
Summary: Sales representative Ryoma Iwakura's life careens off course when a business deal brings him to a hostess bar, and into the company of hostess and strip club dancer Rouge. A spark of attraction ignites between them, one Ryoma tries to deny. Despite his reservations, he embarks on a scandalous friendship with Rouge that questions his plans for the future.
Author's Notes: Two more chapters! Ending is still not finalized. =p Prompts are from 10_prompts.
#32 (9:10 Commit)
Ryoma adjusted his necktie in the bathroom mirror, inspecting his attire to ensure that it was appropriate for the lunch meeting he had later that day. His shirt and pants weren't much different from what he usually wore; what stood out on him was the burgundy pin-striped tie Rouge had given him months ago, that he saved for important occasions.
With a fond smile at the article, he glanced over the crowded shelves on the wall, now filled with feminine beauty products he couldn't even begin to name. Rouge had certainly made herself comfortable in the month or so she'd been here.
Ryoma wandered out of the kitchen, noting that the curtains were left drawn from the night before. He and Rouge had been too preoccupied to remember them then. The unhampered window would soon let the sun in; he strode over and pulled fabric across it, glancing at Rouge when the metal hoops hissed noisily across the curtain frame. She remained curled up in bed, deaf to the world in slumber. Her hair was braided to prevent it from tangling. He preferred it when it was undone, though, because her silky locks were a joy to run his fingers through.
It was almost difficult to believe that Rouge was living with him now. It had taken a few weeks for Falcon to find another apartment he could rent (incidentally, it was a unit in the very same building, just a couple floors above, that he shared with some stranger) and Mindhi to settle in with Ayame and Cassie, before Rouge was willing to make his apartment her home.
Yet, for all the connections they shared and things they did together, he and Rouge were still just friends.
Granted, they were intimate companions who had sex together on a regular basis. They weren't boyfriend and girlfriend. Maybe lovers. But there never was a clear distinction, a spoken agreement between them.
Rouge had not told him how she felt. Ever since that morning he confessed, they hadn't talked any more about their emotions, merely continuing as they were before. He didn't dare ask about her feelings, not because of a fear of rejection, but because he could not give her anything other than friendship. Their current situation was far from what was right. He was disappointing his future wife, his parents, but Rouge-- She was an addiction he couldn't wean himself of.
He liked the way she laughed, loved her smile. He looked forward to her teasing and touch, to their conversations on life and cultures and hobbies. Rouge challenged his beliefs and supported his ideas. Not to mention the way she was in bed, voracious and brazen, with a range of eye-popping kinks she was slowly tutoring him on.
Ryoma didn't want to decipher what he felt towards her now. He wasn't ready for it. Perhaps he'd never be prepared to purge her from his system, either. Unease roiled in his gut, a nagging doubt he suppressed as best as he could. No news arriving from his parents meant that he could live on borrowed time for just a little longer.
He looked at her sleeping figure, trailing his gaze over the covers bunched around her form. She'd expressed such delight at having a functioning radiator around during wintertime. Ryoma smiled at the memory, sweeping his eyes over the touch of girlishness that she'd brought into his apartment.
For all that she hadn't told him, there was a softness to her smile that he had not missed, a tenderness to her touch when she thought him distracted. He sometimes wondered if she liked him in return, or maybe even loved him. But he always quashed those thoughts before they gave him false hope.
A knock on the door drew his attention away from her. Ryoma turned towards his desk, grabbing his briefcase and getting ready to go. That had to be Falcon, dropping by to pick him up for work. He cast a last glance at Rouge, making sure she was comfortable, before exiting the apartment to start his day.
---
#33 (12:1 Letter)
Falcon set the groceries on the draining board and sauntered out into the living room, where Ryoma was sorting through his mail. "So, popped the question yet?"
"What question?" Ryoma glanced up at the blond suspiciously, separating bills and flyers into two separate piles on his desk. As far as he knew, he'd asked Rouge all the essential questions he had remaining since she'd moved in. None of which Falcon was privy to.
"Oh, you know, asking Rouge to be your girlfriend?" Falcon looked archly at him, before heading over to the TV. "You've been living with her for two freakin' months, buddy!"
"Stop harping on that." Ryoma frowned and turned away from his ex-roommate, ignoring the burst of noise from the television set. What went on between him and Rouge was his own business, wasn't it? Besides, Falcon didn't know the half of his reasons. If he had the choice to ask her-- If he had the choice...
Ryoma suppressed the thought and focused on his letters instead. It would sting if he thought about what things could have been.
The blond had been dropping by frequently since he moved out, keeping to their old dinner routine on the evenings Rouge wasn't at home. Despite how much he annoyed Ryoma with his emphasis on a relationship, Ryoma appreciated his company. He'd got used to having noise around the apartment, with how Falcon practically lived in front of the TV and commented on the most mundane of subjects.
"C'mon, spare a thought for poor Rouge, Ryoma. She's been living with you for so long. Most girls don't do stuff like this without a good reason." Falcon tossed the TV remote in the air and caught it, cushioning his head against the wall with his forearm. "And by 'good reason', I mean an 'I like you so much that I'd live with you' kinda reason."
Ryoma blushed lightly, keeping his eyes on the dwindling pile of letters in his hand. He was about to respond to when a small envelope caught his attention. His name and address were inked in a familiar scrawl, one that made his heartbeat slow with dread. With luck, this would be just like the ones he'd received in the months before.
He eased the flap open, gingerly sliding the thin, yellowed paper out from within. The pigments had seeped through to the other side, an unreadable mess of words until he unfolded the missive and scanned it through. His stomach plummeted.
Dear Ryoma,
How have you been? Your father and I are doing well. There is still plenty of rice in the bin, and we've had more than enough meat with the money you sent. It's been raining lately though, so the roof is leaking, but other than that, the house is fine.
Do you remember Mai, the neighbour whose house you used to play at when you were a boy? Her daughter Miko just had a baby son this spring. He's a very handsome little lad! Your cousin Ami is due to wed this summer, and so is her sister, Yui. Everyone's looking forward to the wedding preparations.
You'll be 24 in a few months' time, won't you, Ryoma? It'll soon be time for you to wed a girl and start your own family. Your father and I have been going to the matchmaker's, who introduced some very nice young ladies to us. We've met them and their parents, and we've picked out the best girl for you: Her name is Miho. She's beautiful, fair of skin, with long black hair--
At this point, Ryoma felt too sickened to read on, but he forced himself through to the end of the letter, his insides coalescing into a hard lump.
--She is the sweetest, kindest young woman of the lot. Pure, obedient, very keen to please. We've made sure that she hasn't had any dealings with other men in the past. (Hussies would bring such shame to the family, as you know.) Miho just turned 18 not long ago. She likes to sew and sing.
We're very convinced that Miho will be the perfect wife for you, Ryoma. Do come home soon, we'd like for you to meet her, and arrange a date for your marriage. I'm certain that you'd be pleased with her.
In the meantime, do take care of yourself, and eat well.
Love,
Mother
He stared blankly at the letter for a long time. Miho? She didn't sound the slightest bit like Rouge. Was she to be his wife? He could imagine her vague features, imagine her to be the sweet, young thing his mother described. Ryoma swallowed with some difficulty. He pictured the girl, Miho, at his side, pictured her in his distant future. It didn't feel right, not by a long shot.
But it was going to be the path he took, anyway. He'd decided on this long ago, and he couldn't just abandon his resolutions on a whim. It just didn't help that having to end things with Rouge right now felt like the wrongest thing on Earth.
Falcon noticed his silence, looking over curiously. "What's wrong, Ryoma? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
He blinked, shifting his gaze to the blond slowly. The letter had made him forget that Falcon was even present. He looked between his friend and the missive. It felt heavy, the thin sheet of writing. Before the gears of his mind had even moved to formulate a response, Falcon had stood up, walking over to inspect the offending material.
"What's that?" Falcon pulled the letter from his fingertips effortlessly, just as Ryoma thought to keep it away from him. With a growing sense of unease, he watched the man's blue eyes flicker from left to right, the expression on his face growing more incredulous by the second. When he reached the end of the letter, Falcon looked back up at him. "The hell? What about Rouge?"
Ryoma frowned and looked away, regaining some control of his frozen body. He couldn't even begin to voice the disquiet in him. "I don't know."
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Falcon waved the letter in his face. "Were you aware of this beforehand?"
He nodded tightly, avoiding Falcon's gaze. How was he even going to tell Rouge about this?
"You knew? You knew you were gonna tie the knot with some girl, and yet you've been fooling around with Rouge all this while?" Falcon stared accusingly at him, glancing at the piece of paper. When he didn't answer, the blond straightened, his eyes widening with some sort of realisation. "This is why you haven't actually hooked up with her."
"Yeah." Ryoma ran his fingers through his hair, before pulling the desk chair out and sitting heavily on it. Letting go of Rouge was the last thing he wanted to do right now.
"I can't believe it, Ryoma. You're such a--" Falcon paused to find the right word, "--a bastard!" Ryoma leaned forward on his knees, burying his face in his hands. He already knew all that. Falcon, however, continued with his verbal onslaught. "I mean, having two girls at one time is one thing, but having a fiancée and another girl is just damn wrong!"
"I've told Rouge that I'm getting married," Ryoma mumbled into his palms, realising the reason why she hadn't spoken to him about being in a relationship; he'd mentioned it so long ago that he thought she'd forgotten. It just made him ache for her all the more.
"Yeah, and what did she say about it?" the blond pressed.
Ryoma exhaled deeply. Rouge had opposed to the idea of arranged marriages, not him getting married. But that was months ago, before this mess started. He sometimes wondered where she'd have wanted things to head, though never for long, because it was a pointless thought to have. "Nothing."
Falcon snorted. Ryoma saw him set the letter on the desk through a crack in his fingers. "I don't believe she feels nothing."
"I don't, either," he admitted, wincing at how much more he was going to put her through. "It's just... all this wasn't supposed to have happened." He shouldn't have even glimpsed Rouge the first time. All it took was just a single meeting for him to fall into the mire, a single kiss to sink him waist-deep, and a single night to corrupt his desire.
"Well, now that things have happened, what're you gonna do?" Falcon stepped back to observe him. Ryoma shrugged. "What do you feel about her?"
He shook his head, pushing himself off the chair to pace next to his bed. "I don't--" Ryoma was about to tell Falcon that he didn't know, but it hit him that the answer was in there, somewhere. He just wasn't ready to face whatever he felt. A vague emotion was easier to let go of than something concrete, wasn't it? "I don't want to know."
The blond stared at him, baffled. "You've got issues, Ryoma. You either like Rouge, or you love her. There's no way you can't feel anything for her. Hell, you looked like you'd just received your death sentence!" Falcon paused. "Come to think of it, you probably l--"
"Cut it out, Falcon," Ryoma snapped, at the same time Falcon continued his sentence.
"--Love her." He raised his eyebrows.
"I do not!" Ryoma retorted, out of habit rather than with any thought to his situation. He drew a deep breath and looked away. Breaking things off with Rouge was something that had to be done sooner than later, before they got any worse. What would become of them after that, he would deal with when the time came. "I'm just going to tell her that this has to end."
He didn't like the sound of that.
"Right, you have some serious issues to get through, buddy." Falcon clapped him on the back, slanting him an almost-sympathetic look. "Just remember that Rouge is a person, like you. She won't take kindly to being strung along."
Ryoma sighed and passed his hand over his face, wishing that there was some other way around this.
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#34 (12:10 Pieces)
"I'm home!" Rouge called the moment she set foot into the apartment, brightening at the lights that were still on. Ryoma was at his desk -- she hadn't seen him awake since a few days ago, when she'd had her whole day off work. Things had been fun then.
She placed her satchel aside and shut the door, shrugging her thin coat off. Ryoma had turned to watch as she entered; Rouge felt her lips twitch upwards of their own accord, meeting his gaze. Curling up with him tonight seemed a very good idea after all the time she'd spent without him. She wanted to tell him about her day, on top of asking about his.
There was a slowness to Ryoma's movements when he stood, that Rouge didn't pay mind to when she crossed the room, lifting her arms to encircle his form. "Hey--", she began, closing the distance between them.
Ryoma stepped back, away from her.
"Rouge, there's something I need to tell you," he spoke quietly, shadowed eyes meeting hers.
Rouge stilled in shock, drawing back, her eyes widening in confusion. Her arms fell limply to her sides. A growing sense of foreboding worried at her; Ryoma had never looked so haunted, nor had he rejected her so openly during the time they'd been living together. "What is it?" she breathed, not daring to raise her voice, for fear of breaking this sudden tension between them.
"I--" He glanced away, towards a folded letter on the desk. She followed his line of sight. Something told her that the missive played a part in this. "Do you remember the time we talked about arranged marriages?"
She nodded slowly, vaguely recalling their exchange at Bailey's. Ryoma had told her that he was to have an arranged marriage. She hadn't pushed him for a relationship for that very reason-- Rouge froze, having an inkling of where their conversation was headed. "Don't tell me..." she trailed off in the middle of her whisper, unable to voice her nagging doubt.
"I'm going to be married." He slid his gaze back towards hers, his expression unreadable.
Rouge felt the blood drain from her face. She couldn't breathe, staring blankly at him, waiting for him to convince her that it wasn't what she thought it was. But Ryoma never, ever pulled jokes. She swallowed, swallowed again. This couldn't be happening. "You? Married?" she repeated faintly, desperately trying to find some glimmer of determination in his eyes that signalled they would be together.
"Yeah. My parents have chosen a girl for me. I'm due to go back and meet her." He watched her solemnly. For a moment there, the apartment and the world outside else ceased to exist. Her chest felt as if was crumbling and everything within her ribcage was being emptied out.
"What about us?" Rouge croaked, knowing her question was pointless the moment she asked. This was bound to happen someday. There wasn't a future to their relationship. All the same, she wished he'd reach over and hold her somehow.
Just the other day, they'd been laughing and snuggling. Just the other day, he'd leaned over and kissed her. She glanced around the apartment jerkily, over the desk and closet and the bed -- their bed -- and back at him. There was no hope for them, but she wanted to be a little selfish again. "What about me, Ryoma?"
He looked away. She bit her lip, tasting lipstick. It hurt thinking that he would be leaving her. "I... I'm sorry."
"Doesn't any of this matter to you?" she asked breathlessly, gesturing at the apartment. Her mind was spinning and she didn't want to imagine what was going to happen. "Don't I matter enough to you? We've been living together for two months now."
"This was all a mistake." He glanced back at her, frowned. She read the regret in his eyes all too well. Ryoma regretted meeting her; he did not regret having to marry someone he did not know.
Rouge inhaled shakily, the corners of her eyes prickling. "Am I a mistake, Ryoma? Is that all I am to you?" She kept her gaze on him long enough to bite the questions out, before turning away, swallowing at the tightness in her throat. Her chest ached. All she wanted to do was to curl up and cry. This had been all a lie she'd hid herself in for a while. Ryoma had been -- was -- so important to her. She wasn't the same to him. What had he seen her as, in that case? When Ryoma did not respond, she lashed out at him, "Why did you even ask me to live with you?! You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?"
"I-- Yes, I did." He looked guiltily at her, clenching his fists. "It was an honest mistake on my part. I-- I'm sorry."
'Sorry' didn't even begin to cover the fissure he'd torn in her chest. Rouge watched him incredulously, wishing there was some way she could change this all. He'd just been giving her empty hope all this time, and she'd been too desperate to walk away. "How could you do this to me?"
"I didn't plan on it! Being with you makes me do things I shouldn't." He didn't have to explain what those things were. She knew them well, could relive them all over again if she wished. Had they been important to him? Had she been important to him? Probably not, not at this point.
"At least tell me what you feel towards me," she choked. Her eyes were hot, and she turned to the side to blink their moisture away. All these months couldn't have been for nothing.
"I can't." Ryoma shifted uncomfortably on his feet. She looked at him hopelessly, wondering what ground there still was for her to clutch on to. "I don't have an answer for you, Rouge."
Rouge bit down a sob, taking deep breaths to calm the turbulence within herself. Ryoma was probably just having a good time with her. She closed her eyes, willing the prickle in her nose to go away. If she was going to leave Ryoma, she'd want to know what would become of him, at the very least. Or what sort of girl he was choosing above her. "Wh-What is she like?"
"She--" Ryoma hesitated, looking back towards the desk. She concentrated on his voice, committing it to heart so she could remember him properly in the future. "She's a young girl. Her name is Miho. From-- From what my mother told me, she's sweet, mild... and, well--" He glanced away. "--A virgin."
She stared mutely at him for a long moment, realising then that she hadn't a chance with him. A dead weight settled in her chest, full of hurt and resignation. He was slipping away right before her eyes. "She's everything I'm not, huh?" she whispered.
Ryoma looked away, unable to meet her gaze. She sobbed drily, blinked hard to keep hot tears from welling in her eyes. What had happened to their vague, simple relationship? Everything was falling apart. She turned away, glancing obliquely at him, relishing his facial features. It would be better if she left now. There wasn't a chance left for them, anyway.
She would bunk at her friends' place, and return to move her things out when he wasn't home. There wouldn't be a trace of her when she was done, nothing to remind him of her. That thought alone made her chest clench tightly. Saline leaked from her eyes; she squeezed them shut the instant he turned to look at her. Ryoma moved, just a little, but she was already making her way to the door, grabbing her bag and coat before he could change her mind.
"Rouge." He touched her arm the moment she grabbed the doorknob.
She trembled, swallowed hard. Ryoma was so close to her that she could feel his heat. His warmth was addictive; he ought to have known that by now. The prospect of not seeing him ever again forced more wetness from her eyes. She gulped. There was just one last thing she had to know, that she didn't quite dare ask. Rouge fixed her eyes on the plain white paint of the door, breathing slowly, piecing words together in her mind. "Will-- will she love you? As... as much as--"
As much as I do.
She choked, her throat clamping shut. On second thought, she really didn't want to know. Saltwater streaked down her cheeks, ruining her makeup, but she didn't care about that now. Ryoma shifted behind her; she yanked the door open. "No, don't answer." Her voice broke.
Rouge knew he was still watching her when she slipped out of the apartment, her face crumpling in a mess of tears he couldn't see.
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